Before the Villains' Ending

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“I don’t care who Your Grace spends time with or what you do. Unnecessary suspicion will only disrupt your plan.”

“Then why are you saying such things?”

A moment of silence filled the air. Margaret didn’t provide any response to his question, and Calix wasn’t anxious because the woman in front of him had an expression on her face that spoke more clearly than any words she could have said.

He had seen that expression somewhere before.

Yes, he had indeed seen it before.

Definitely.

It bore a striking resemblance to Florencia Eilish’s , the Marquis’s older daughter.

Calix Hamel realized it then.

Margaret Eilish really didn’t care about him that much. What she said was merely an objective and unattached advice; whether he followed it or not didn’t matter to her.

“…Your Grace, do whatever you want. Eilish won’t betray your trust. And not actively participating in your rebellion should keep us safe from any retaliation.

She spat out a series of words without regard for Calix’s reaction, and immediately turned away.

A clear and polite dry cough was heard. And despite the reputation of her being sickly, the woman’s posture was similar to that of a queen.

Calix didn’t heed her advice.

Truthfully, he wanted to forget about it all together. At that time he firmly believed that his feelings for Beatrice wouldn’t waver or stray away.

It was remarkably stupid of him.

And while sitting in this desolated prison cell, Calix now pondered over the barely existing emotions.

When Beatrice, whom he had once valued more than his own life, stood alongside the prince and told him to give up on his foolish dreams, he wholeheartedly crumbled.

The feeling of having his reason for existence denied nearly killed him.

“…Tsk.”

What happened after that?

He remembered killing quite a number of people. Depletion of morality and his experiences from numerous wars resulted in a large-scale massacre. Yet, even after all that, his plan didn’t succeed.

In the end, all that remained were Beatrice’s disappointed face, the prince’s triumphant smirk, and his own upcoming death.

It felt like something broke inside of him. The subsequent feeling of powerlessness was truly overwhelming.

Calix didn’t resist during the journey to the prison.

And after everything was over, Margaret came here and stared at him from the other side of these cell bars.

“Mel.”

Calix mulled over the nickname he had never dared to utter in front of her.

Yes, at that time, Margaret looked at him with her Characteristic expression, offered him some medicine, and said in a sincere voice, ‘You did your best. You worked hard.’

* * *

“Are you going to wait any longer?”

The voice of the guard broke the silence. Calix woke up from his reverie and calmly looked in front of him.

He noticed the guard standing there alone, looking at him with a sympathetic gaze.

He gritted his teeth.

She didn’t come today after all.

But maybe she’ll come tomorrow.

Or perhaps the day after.

In his delusion, he suddenly remembered the foolish question he had asked Margaret three days ago.

He asked whether her disease was cured or not.

Calix chuckled at his own stupidity. He knew Margaret’s illness was an act, but he still momentarily lost sight of the truth in his moment of fear of losing her.

Come to think of it, was she still using that obvious lie?

What’s the use of that now?

He suddenly recalled that his shackles were ridiculously loose.

The heavy restraints were meaningless in the presence of his strength. His power wasn’t a weak ability that could be suppressed by these low-level magical restraints.

He estimated the time left until his execution and shook his head.

There wasn’t much time left. Two months seemed long but it would actually pass as fast as the wind.

He missed Margaret so much already.

So much that he tried to erase her from his mind for a moment and pondered over something else.

But he kept going back to her.

If he obediently took the painkillers as she advised and endured what was left of his damn life quietly, Margaret would surely praise him.

He could already hear her say, “You listen surprisingly well.”

Calix then moved his unfocused eyes to the vacant visitation room across from his.

It was empty, there was no Margaret in sight. He laughed weakly at himself again. Ultimately, the futile daydream faded away with his hope of seeing her today.

He next thought about the day he was first thrown into solitary confinement. At that time, he laughed, saying it was just like when he was abused as a child.

Back then, he had no will to live on. Until Margaret came and began to call him ‘Mr. Hamel’ with her sweet voice.

Until getting his hair stroked by her little hand became his daily routine.

Yes until then, he had always been in that state.

After some time passed and small changes occurred, he quickly adapted to that routine. So much so that he would feel anxious if those things didn’t happen.

He wanted to feel the touch of her hand gently patting his head. He longed for her gentle voice that casually asked about his well-being, relieving his days of their lethal loneliness.

But she was no longer here, and he couldn’t just keep waiting like a helpless old man while his execution was now less than two months away.

It was drawing closer, day after day.

Calix didn’t know how important she considered their relationship to be.

But, if she also leaves me like this, if I am betrayed twice, if she abandons me too…

His lips trembled in the dark cell and a voice tainted with obsession withered away in a whisper.

“It can’t be….”

Until I die, you must not leave.

I can do that much for you, Margaret.

He closed his eyes completely as he felt his reason being devoured by the overwhelming solitude.

Then, he spoke out loud in a cold voice,”If you don’t come to me, then….”

I won’t give up on life.

For the first time since his imprisonment, the man wanted to break those flimsy iron bars.

And as soon as he thought of that, a harsh and metallic sound echoed. Splitting the restraints open as they slowly began to deform.

It was surprisingly easy.

The guard didn’t even hear the loud noise.

Yeah, it was pathetically too easy.

That day, Calix Hamel decided to escape from prison for the first time.

* * *

Taylor Knight was a genius regardless of his age or level of experience. Well, at least when it came to assassination and swordsmanship.

His exceptional talents surpassed those of most Ability users, making him a formidable opponent.

A man who could kill without a sword. A genius who could successfully take out five people with just one needle.

Within the guild, there were many words of praise about him as a young promising man. Yet, he didn’t care about any of it.

He was called a master, but the man who acted like a father to him always repeated the same words.

‘Can you hear the voices praising you?’

‘You have to live up to their expectations. You can do this much, can’t you? If you do that, you’ll be able to eat dinner, but if not…..’

“…Damn it,” the young man cursed.

It was disgusting.

Taylor huddled on the bed covered with white sheets.

It’s been quite a while since he realized that these people’s praises and admiration were meaningless. And that he truthfully always felt lonely.

He tried to comfort himself with the idea that assassins were originally lonely Individuals, but it didn’t really help.

It has been four days since Margaret stopped coming to see him.

And during this time, he had several seizures, resulting in his bedsheet being changed three times already.

Having a sheet on his prison bed was absurdly luxurious, but in Taylor’s case, it served the purpose of monitoring his self-harm tendencies, which is usually a sign of an upcoming seizure.

And he kept having the same nightmare recently.

Over and over again.

“Mel,” Taylor murmured faintly in a hoarse voice.

Though Margaret claimed her absence had nothing to do with anyone else, he didn’t completely believe her.

Perhaps she’s just busy, Taylor thought as he buried his sad face in the pillow.

Well, Margaret didn’t seem to be lying so maybe….

It didn’t matter what emotions he evoked to her, the only important thing to Taylor was that Margaret deeply cared about him.

Whether it was sympathy, empathy, or any other reason, he could bet his life that she didn’t pretend or fake her feelings towards him.

There was no reason for her to do that anyway.

So, he believed she would definitely come back.

She had to come.

The memory of her trembling pupils when he reached his injured hand out to her the last time, reinforced his beliefs.

She will come back to him, unless she suddenly starts to dislike him.

And if in the end she really couldn’t come because of someone, he would find that culprit and get his revenge, Taylor swore to himself before murmuring,

“My Mel….”

* * *

Two months ago, Florencia Eilish proposed a commission of 2 billion gold to Taylor’s guild and threw an envelope at them.

But the repercussions caused by her request were far greater than the guild expected, and the name of the Glacius Guild quickly became a hot topic.

She gave them 2 billion gold. Considering that the guild earned 300 billion gold annually from various illegal activities such as drug trafficking, contract killing contracts and so on, the price of this one commission was considered to be the highest ever in their scale.

The Master hesitated, the officials discussed it loudly among themselves, and the lower-ranked guild members began to get excited.

When they finally opened the envelope, they discovered the commission was to kidnap Beatrice Mary Lozenge.

Taylor smiled at the sight.

He recognized the crescent-shaped seal drawn at the end of that letter as Florencia Eilish’s.

He knew the request was very personal, and the reason the guild Master hesitated to approve it was because of the well-known story between Florencia, Beatrice and the Prince.

But Florencia was a VIP client of the guild, which is why they ultimately decided not to refuse such a huge sum of money.

As a result, when the commission was definitely approved, the executioners were chosen among the most high-ranking and talented members.

“You will do it,”The Master commended, and Taylor didn’t decline.

Taylor, who was naturally perceptive, easily found out about Calix’s involvement in the kidnapping.

And to him, the Duke was obviously planning a rebellion.

If he cuts the tail, his own demise was obvious. But Taylor knew that he was the only one who could handle this job flawlessly.

Moreover, Beatrice was a woman who enjoyed challenges.

When Taylor first met Beatrice, he told her that he didn’t plan to kill her, and she laughed.

He never met someone who wasn’t afraid of death, so her sarcasm naturally amused him.

Since then, he developed a strange desire to see her blue eyes break down in tears. Besides, the connection between her and Florencia was also an interesting sight for him to behold.

When he met Beatrice, Taylor felt excitement for the first time towards something other than killing people.

It was an emotion that he couldn’t understand.

And as he was tying up Beatrice’s hands and feet during their last encounter, he saw her face contorting in horror.

To be honest, he was pleased. Taylor felt thrill coursing through his veins, well that was until Kastiel swung his greatsword at him, trying to cut him open.

“Damn lunatic. You must have gone crazy from the drugs you take,” Kastiel sneered at him in a cold tone, when he saw Taylor laugh.

After that event, Taylor was imprisoned with the other rebels.

Alcatraz.

On the day of his imprisonment, he clenched his fist while memorizing the name of the solitary tomb he was trapped in.

When the guild master learned that the Crown Prince planned to crush the guild entirely, he decided to let Taylor rot away in Alcatraz life.

For the preservation of the illegal throne, it could be considered a pretty good deal.

“Useless.”

The Master said that. Apart from the flash of sparks when the torch hanging on the iron bars and the crackle of lightning, there was almost nothing to see in the lowermost level of underground Prison.

Thoroughly isolated, Taylor’s feelings for Beatrice and animosity towards the guild disappeared like dust.

The only thing that remained were the occasional urge to kill someone, and the side effects of the tool the guild placed inside of his body.

Those weren’t particularly good emotions.

Ah, he wanted to see Margaret so bad.