<Episode 92>
* * *
One minute before Abellard regained his senses, his body had been overtaken by Dekarv, who had struck a deal with the goddess Yulias.
“Is this how you honor your promises?” Dekarv sneered.
“If you’re impressed by my efficiency, I’ll take it as praise,” Yulias, controlling Eveline’s body, replied coldly, releasing her grip on Elkais’s collapsing form.
Elkais clutched at his bleeding neck, his eyes locking onto Eveline—or what appeared to be her. But this wasn’t Eveline.
Her hair wasn’t red, and her eyes were a piercing, unnatural blue.
In his fading consciousness, Elkais realized the truth. The entity controlling Eveline’s body wasn’t human. It was a predator far above mankind.
“The alliance is over. Remeros will be eliminated here,” Yulias declared with icy finality.
“Fine. But make sure it’s finished properly,” Dekarv responded, his gaze shifting toward Ferite.
Ferite, catching Dekarv’s cue, conjured sharp ice spikes and suspended them ominously in the air around Abellard’s body.
“Do it carefully—don’t let him die,” Dekarv ordered.
Ferite launched the ice spikes, targeting Abellard with calculated precision. As the shards pierced Abellard, leaving deep and jagged wounds, Dekarv observed his handiwork with satisfaction.
“What is your goal, Yulias?” Dekarv asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
“Do you think I’d tell you?” she retorted coolly, her manifestation in Eveline’s body fading.
As Yulias withdrew, Eveline’s body fell limp, the goddess’s influence receding entirely.
Dekarv laughed hollowly, knowing their alliance had fully crumbled. With the betrayal complete, he, too, had no reason to remain in Abellard’s body.
He prepared to abandon it, leaving behind the wreckage of their failed union.
* * *
Abellard returned to reality just moments after Eveline had shot herself in the neck.
Watching her collapse, blood pouring onto the snow, he let out a heart-wrenching scream.
“Eve!!”
Panicked, Abellard rushed to her side. Thankfully, she was still breathing, though faintly.
“No, no! Eveline, stay with me!”
His hands trembled as he tried to stop the blood flowing from her wound. He pressed against her neck, desperately attempting to channel his divine power into her.
“Ah…”
But nothing happened. The divine power that had always flowed effortlessly from him was now completely absent. All he could feel was her cooling blood on his hands.
“No, no, no…”
Shaking his head frantically, he fought to summon his strength, his tears falling freely onto Eveline’s pale face.
Her unfocused, sky-blue eyes gazed in his direction, but it was clear she wasn’t truly seeing him. Her expression was eerily vacant, like someone on the brink of death.
“I was wrong! Please… please, Eveline, don’t leave me!” he sobbed, his voice choked with desperation.
He tried again, this time pouring every ounce of effort into unlocking the divine power within him. He reached into the depths of his core, attempting to transfer the divine energy to Eveline.
Then, finally—
“Ugh…!”
The divine power surged from Abellard’s hands into Eveline’s body, knitting the wound in her neck. Her color began to return, her breathing stabilizing. Seeing this, Abellard collapsed onto her chest in relief.
“Save Elkais too…” Eveline murmured weakly before slipping back into unconsciousness.
<Even if you save me, it won’t matter. If Elkais dies, I will choose death again.>
Abellard clenched his teeth, realizing he had no choice. If he let Elkais die now, Eveline would inevitably follow through on her words when she woke.
She hadn’t hesitated for even a second to end her own life before. He couldn’t let it happen again.
“Sob… Eveline…”
Tears streaming down his face, Abellard turned to Elkais’s lifeless form. Grasping Elkais’s arm, he forced what little divine power remained in him into the man.
A blinding light engulfed them both.
When the light faded, Elkais’s body stirred faintly, but Abellard had collapsed to the ground, unconscious from exhaustion.
* * *
Abellard dreamt of the day he had come to this place—a vivid recollection of events that felt all too real.
“How dare you spy on me.”
Abellard had always had a habit of watching Eveline while she slept. Whenever she fell asleep, he would quietly slip into her room to make sure she was resting well.
He told himself it was because her restless nights were his fault.
“Who are you?”
Standing over Eveline was a man with crimson hair, his hand covering her closed eyes. Abellard instantly knew the figure wasn’t human.
There was something overwhelming about him—something predatory, far beyond the presence of an alpha or omega. The sheer weight of his existence pressed down on Abellard, making it feel as though a single word from the man could erase him entirely.
Abellard’s breath caught in his throat, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep himself from falling to his knees.
“Do you intend to interfere with divine matters?” the man asked coldly.
“W-what do you intend to do with Eveline?” Abellard stammered, his tone turning polite despite himself.
Dekarv, the figure before him, smirked mockingly. “Do you think I’d tell you?”
“Eveline is my sister. Use me instead. She has no divine power… she’s of no use,” Abellard pleaded.
For some time, he had been troubled by how Eveline had changed.
The Eveline he once knew would have reacted to his provocations with fury, schemes, and vindictive retaliation. But at some point, she had stopped reacting altogether, brushing off his provocations and even treating him kindly.
It unsettled him.
Abellard realized he had been watching Eveline more often, hoping for her attention. The vague, distant emotions he felt weren’t hate. Instead, her kindness, which felt so alien, filled him with unease.
Abellard didn’t believe in love. He believed in hatred—something deeper, more consuming. If Eveline hated him, it would be stronger and more lasting than any fleeting love.
Hatred was absolute, rooted in the soul, while love was fragile, capable of changing at any moment.
“Do you think I can’t read your thoughts?” Dekarv sneered.
“N-no, I—”
“To love your sister… how pitiful.”
Abellard froze. He had never once considered his feelings for Eveline to be love. Yet, hearing it spoken aloud by Dekarv made him realize he couldn’t deny it.
The reason he wanted to hold Eveline’s deepest emotions—it could only be because of such a feeling.
The realization, forced upon him by another, filled Abellard with both shame and anger.
“You think offering yourself as my pawn will make me lose interest in Eveline?” Dekarv asked, his tone dripping with amusement.
“I…”
“Has Yulias told you nothing?” Dekarv asked pointedly.
Abellard knew the goddess Yulias had blessed him, her divine power making his own abilities remarkably strong. Yet, he had always hidden this power, unwilling to embrace the path of a holy servant.
“This girl will serve a noble purpose. She’s my masterpiece,” Dekarv declared.
“Are you intending to use her as a saintess?” Abellard asked hesitantly.
“No.”
“Then as a high priestess?”
“No.”
“Then what… what are you planning to do with her?”
Abellard locked eyes with Dekarv, whose crimson gaze curved into a crescent, radiating an unsettling red light as though he were savoring the moment.
“My ultimate weapon,” Dekarv said with quiet glee. “The spear that will make me supreme.”
“And what happens after she becomes this… spear?” Abellard asked, his voice trembling.
Dekarv didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Once she’s fulfilled her purpose, she’ll die.”
* * *
At that moment, Abellard awoke from his dream.
“Eve!”
He immediately looked over to check on Eveline.
They were inside what appeared to be a cabin. The wooden ceiling loomed above, and there was an oddly strong smell of something burning. Eveline lay still, her eyes closed.
“Eve… Hic… Eve, I was so scared. Eve…”
Abellard buried his face against her chest, his tears soaking into the fabric of her dress. Pressing his ear close, he listened intently for the sound of her heartbeat.
Thump-thump, thump-thump. The steady rhythm reassured him.
In the quiet, he could also hear his own rapid breathing, a result of his sobs. Gradually, he tried to calm himself, closing his eyes.
<Please accept me. I’ll become the goddess Yulias’s pawn! If you choose me, I’ll do anything! Please!>
<I have no interest in becoming the leader. Remeros and Dekarv’s games are childish.>
<But if you don’t help us, Eveline will die! I can’t live if Eveline dies…! You’ve always favored me! The power I have is your blessing! Please, I’m begging you!>
The memory of his desperate prayers at Yulias’s shrine resurfaced, sending a chill through Abellard’s heart.
He took a deep breath, forcing the memory away, and opened his eyes. Tears pooled and fell from his lashes, landing on Eveline’s pale face.
“Eve…”
Calling her name reminded him of why he was here. His purpose wasn’t to wallow in guilt and grief. He shook himself and glanced around, realizing something critical.
Elkais and Crown Prince Ferite were nowhere to be seen.
Abellard’s chest tightened when he noticed the state of Eveline’s white wedding dress. It was stained with blood, stark and cruel against the fabric’s purity.
Once, in fleeting moments of fantasy, he had imagined Eveline as a bride—his bride. But seeing her like this, drenched in blood and on the brink of death, was nothing short of a nightmare.
To ensure she was truly stable, he tried to summon his divine power again. However, his reserves were utterly depleted. He had spent everything earlier.
“Damn it. It’ll take at least a day to recover,” he muttered bitterly, his vision swimming from exhaustion.
At that moment, a blue piece of paper materialized in his palm.
The message on it read:
[Elkais de Robein must be eliminated. If you fail to do so within the given time, Eveline Wilden will die.
D-Day: 3.]
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