After I Died, My Husband Went Mad

There was no need for thoughts, or explanations.

 

In the face of her death, words became meaningless.

 

Dehart simply ran. 

 

Even when his horse cried out.

 

Even when it limped, and he eventually crashed on the ground.

 

This must be what being a complete mess look like; a passing thought cruelly mocked him. 

 

But his two legs were already moving again.

 

When did the sun set?

 

When did his rain-soaked clothes dry out?

 

When did his throat get so dry, and when did his eyes close? 

 

He didn’t remember anything; there was no reason to, nor was there any time to dwell on useless memories if he did remember.

 

In that way, Dehart reached the north, his hometown, his house, his family. And, of course, Sebelia should have been there.

 

However, what filled his vision was a gloomy spectacle, and the servants’ shameless gaze.

 

“Ah.”

 

Dragging his mud-stained shoes, Dehart dashed towards the sound of the ringing bell.

 

On the other side of the window, the priest’s solemn chant had begun. It was the final farewell, bidding her goodbye and severing her from this world.

 

No.

 

It can’t be.

 

I can’t let you go.

 

Thud!

 

The cold air inside the funeral hall pushed against him, but Dehart charged forward.

 

Ignoring all the gazes staring him down, he aimed for the highest point, the altar.

 

There, she was waiting for him.

 

“……This can’t be real.”

 

With a serene expression on her face, Sebelia kept her eyes shut.

 

As if completely freed from the pain he had inflicted on her, she appeared entirely happy and at peace.

 

“Ahhhhhh!!!”

 

A scream he couldn’t let out tore through his insides. Vivid emotions in shades of red clawed at his vision.

 

“This can’t be real. You, really…”

 

Before Dehart knew it, his once proud knees touched the ground before her. 

 

With trembling lips, he clung to the coffin.

 

“No, Sebelia. No, please…….”

 

Drip. Drop.

 

Raindrops suddenly started to pound against the window.

 

While in the distance, thunder began to roar loudly.

 

It was truly a fitting day to mourn the tragic death of the Duchess.

* * *

 

Crash!

 

 “Kyah!”

 

With a loud noise, windows shattered, scattering pieces of glass across the floor.

 

“Ahhhh… Help!”

 

Bloodied servants clung to the wall, releasing trembling breaths.

 

They couldn’t even remember how many days had passed.

 

The eerie phenomenon that began after the Duchess’s funeral had gradually driven Hylend Hall into a state of terror.

 

A maid, wrapping her arms around another servant, asked in a trembling voice filled with fear.

 

“W-What should we do?”

 

A long scar adorned her neck—a souvenir left by a shard of glass.

 

“For now, let’s inform the butler. We can’t stay here any longer…” The servant comforted her with his blood-soaked hands and was about to walk down the corridor.

 

But then…

 

BOOM!

 

As if it had been waiting, the ground shook violently before a flash of white lightning struck the roof.

 

“Ahhhhh!”

 

In an instant, screams erupted from all over the place.

 

“Help! Someone come over here. James fell off the ladder.”

 

Four days had passed since Sebelia’s funeral.

 

And Hylend Hall was now a living hell.

* * *

 

Standing in front of the broken window, Dehart looked down at the mansion with darkened eyes.

 

At the servants darting around, the busy butler comforting them, even Gwen, glaring at him with wide eyes.

 

“Haha.”

 

It was an absurd sight, far from what one might expect right after a funeral.

 

Perhaps the nobles who came to pay their respects will leave murmuring gossips.

 

They’ll probably spread rumors about the infamous state of Inverness as they please.

 

It was satisfying.

 

Terribly satisfying.

 

There was nothing more joyful than seeing the family’s prestige and honor rolling in the mud.

 

Then suddenly, Dehart’s face, which was adorned with a smile, turned pale in an instant.

 

“……Sebelia,” he called.

 

A wave of despair hitting him like a thunderbolt. 

 

His emotions oscillated wildly, resembling the erratic peaks and troughs of waves.

 

“You should see this.”

 

You should witness Gwen, who deceived and betrayed you, making this ugly face.

 

Then you’d…….

 

Hah, what’s the point of all this? Dehart shuddered with a sense of disillusionment. 

 

No, in fact, his hands had been trembling long before.

 

“Ha….”

 

Everything was so dreadful. 

 

Everything in this mansion was disgusting.

 

“But the most disgusting thing here is me.”

 

Mocking his own hypocrisy, Dehart turned away.

 

Liquor bottles and hallucinogenic herbs, scattered across the table, warmly welcomed him.

 

“Well, it’s all just excuses anyway…”

 

Instead of tobacco, he filled the pipe with the hallucinogenic herbs.

 

This extraordinary item showed him visions of Sebelia. 

 

It showed him a Sebelia who still loved him and was waiting for him. 

 

A hollow laughter escaped Dehart lips.

 

Ah, if only he hadn’t pushed her away like that.

 

Instead of getting angry and abandoning her, he should have listened to her at least once.

 

As always, regret came way too late.

 

And he welcomed regret that was holding a sharp whip in each hand with open arms.

 

“…Cough!”

 

Blood spurted from his lips as he deeply inhaled the smoke. But his eyes, soaked in ecstasy, wandered somewhere in the void.

 

“Ah, Sebelia. There you are.”

 

Dehart reached out to her. 

 

“Come here.”

 

The sharp edge of a broken window pierced his hand.

* * *

 

“What on earth were you thinking, Dehart!”

 

When he came back to his senses, the first thing he saw was Flora’s tearful face, and Gwen, who seemed on the verge of collapsing.

 

“Please stop. Sebelia’s death alone is already a great loss, but if you also go down that path….”

 

Blinking in silence, Dehart recalled being pulled up by someone just before falling out the window.

 

Ryan: he thought, his eyes scanning the room.

 

However, his knight was nowhere to be seen, not even his shadow.

 

“…….”

 

So, thinking of going back to Sebelia’s room, he pulled himself up.

 

Sebelia only appears there.

 

But the moment he stepped out of bed, Flora’s immature words cut him off.

 

“Brother, how long will you continue like this because of that cursed woman?”

 

Crash! Clang!

 

As soon as Floria finished speaking, all the glasses and handicrafts in the room simultaneously shattered.

 

“What are you doing right now?” Gwen stared at him in disbelief.

 

“I…”

 

Dehart continued speaking, raising his golden eyes that looked like lightning striking through his matted black hair.

 

“I guess you still think I don’t know anything.”

 

As a sharp laugh followed, Gwen’s expression harden for a moment.

 

No way: she said inwardly, doubt rising in her chest.

 

Meanwhile, Flora, with a frightened face, shook her head and held onto his wrist.

 

“Brother, please stop this.”

 

He wasn’t in his right mind. That insane woman was even trying to devour her brother.

 

“Please, snap out of it, okay? Even if I have to call the sorcerer again, I will bring you back, brother ….”

 

At that moment, Dehart’s gaze, which had been fixed on Gwen, turned to Flora. 

 

“Did you know too?” he asked.

 

“What?”

 

“If you knew, when did you find out? Was it before her rights were taken away? Or…?”

 

Pale complexion, disheveled attire, intense gaze. 

 

Flora felt as if she was facing a madman.

 

I’m scared; she thought, unconsciously releasing her grip on him and taking a step back. 

 

However, Dehart persisted.

 

“Enough, stop it.”

 

Impatient, Gwen stood in front of Floria, blocking his way.

 

“Dehart, let’s not inflict wounds on the family over things that have already past.”

 

There was no hint of shame in her resolute demeanor.

 

“And, as you know, Sebelia’s death was her own tragedy.” 

 

Deep down Gwen felt grateful that Sebelia had taken her own life. 

 

What would have happened to them if they had hired an assassin as planned?

 

Just thinking about it made cold sweat run down her spine.

 

Judging by his attitude, he seems to have only caught wind of some old trickery; she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.

 

At times like these, she had to confidently take the lead. Bowing her head in acknowledgment would be akin to handing victory to the opponent with her own two hands.

 

So, Gwen, with a tender and persuasive voice, tried to convince Dehart.

 

“We’ve only done what needed to be done for Inverness, just as the esteemed Duke’s family desires.”

 

“…….”

 

It was the same words, the same attitude as Rash.

 

And when he heard them, Dehart’s eyes lit up as he looked a Gwen.

 

Then, he slowly stood up.

 

Gwen instinctively hugged Flora and put some more distance between them. However, Dehart didn’t pounce on them.

 

“Did you know, Aunt?”

 

Brushing his disheveled hair back, he stared at her with eyes that were even sharper than before thanks to all the weight he lost.

 

At the same time, a rustling sound echoed throughout the room and small sparks suddenly began to hit the floor.

 

“What is this?!”

 

The scene in the room, which was starting to burn brightly, reflected on Gwen’s astonished face.

 

The carpet, the tapestries, the thick curtains covering the windows, and even the high-quality wooden door; white flames engulfed it all, and soon a firework-like fire began to burn.

 

“They say the only way to get rid of rats is to set the whole place on fire,” Dehart added in a languid tone as he personally opened the window. “Still, it’s a bit unsettling to see family suffocate and burn to death right in front of you. Well, what do you think? If jumping is difficult, I can give you a little push.”

 

“Oh, brother!”

 

With Flora’s cry, a fierce gust of wind whipped across his cheek.

 

“You’ve finally lost your mind. That cursed blood of yours has awakened.”

 

But facing Gwen, who was glaring at him, Dehart only let out a deep chuckle.

 

There was no need to deny that he had lost his sanity.