Chapter 9
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The Grand Duke entered, gripping the man's ankle tightly, dragging a crimson trail across the marble floor.
A red line was drawn straight across the marble floor, following his steps.
"Y-Your Highness...!"
Someone cried out in horror, but he paid no heed.
He threw the man, barely clinging to life, into the middle of the banquet hall.
Blood pooled around him like a puddle.
"I'm getting tired of this. I wish you'd approach this more creatively."
He muttered as if bored, drawing his sword with a blank face.
In an instant, someone gasped and covered their mouth among the murmuring crowd.
"...That's the priest who was with the Saintess!"
He was the one who had attended the banquet just a few hours earlier, claiming to be the protector of the woman who was said to be the Saintess.
As the man's identity was revealed and the crowd was thrown into confusion, a woman was dragged in, her arms held by two knights.
The Saintess.
The woman whom everyone had been wary of, thinking she might be chosen by Grand Duke Ludeviel Excepcion.
"If you are the real Saintess, you should be able to foresee the near future."
He turned his head and looked down at the woman kneeling on the floor.
His tone was light, as if posing a riddle, but his voice was laced with sarcasm.
"Am I going to kill this assassin who tried to poison my tea, or am I going to be generous and show mercy?"
Ludville smiled languidly.
"Try to predict it."
His steps were unsteady, and his gaze was slightly off.
He was clearly drunk, but his violet eyes shone brightly like those of a predator stalking its prey.
The woman trembled with a pale face and knelt down.
"P-Please, spare me. Please have mercy...!"
The Saintess prostrated herself on the floor, bowing her head.
But Ludville spoke before she could even finish her answer.
"Wrong."
The sword flashed with a tearing sound that ripped through the air.
The man was no longer moving.
"Aaaaaaah!"
The Saintess collapsed as if her legs had given way and wailed loudly.
The knights, as if it were routine, didn't even blink an eye as they forcibly pulled her up and dragged her away.
And silence filled the banquet hall.
No one dared to open their mouth.
Ludville kicked the blood-soaked trophy with his toe and walked to the head table to sit down.
As if nothing had happened, he was nonchalant.
There was no emotion in his eyes, only a void greater than madness.
"Who's next?"
That one word froze the entire banquet hall.
No one dared to step forward.
No one.
Amidst the silence, Odelia slowly examined him before her.
Ludeviel Excepcion.
My Ludville...
She traced him with her gaze instead of her fingertips.
His forehead, his tightly closed jaw, his blood-splattered cheek.
As if confirming the warmth of a living person from the man entangled in madness and bloodshed.
A long time ago, now remembering their first meeting. As if the sensation of examining him with a wall between them reacted first.
My lover, my savior, my sword... and my deceiver.
The man who once shed blood for me, and who was once more cruel than anyone else.
Even so, he saved me in the end.
'He's alive. Still...'
But he had changed too much.
In the past, he was a ruler, a strategist.
No matter what chaos struck, he somehow managed to control the situation within it.
But now, all that could be seen was untamed wildness and murderous intent.
The eyes that once flashed with endless calculations were now as empty as an abyss.
'His memories are definitely gone.'
The fact that he didn't come directly to Odelia, but instead brought in women as if wandering, was proof of that.
It seemed that he had no memory of her, except for fragmentary things like her blue eyes.
That was the problem.
He had lived with the sole goal of saving Odelia.
Now that he had lost that goal... he was like a ship adrift in the vast ocean without a compass.
It was an unexpected worst-case scenario.
I wanted him to forget me and be happy.
I wanted him to live his life.
If left unchecked, this man would eventually sink himself.
"...I'm next."
Breaking through the silence, she stepped forward.
And slowly raised her head.
Odelia had made up her mind.
To watch over him.
To stay by his side.
To fill the empty void in his memory with something other than herself.
The eyes revealed beyond the old, worn robe contained only one person.
"I've come to propose a deal, Your Highness."
Then Ludville asked back very slowly.
"A deal?"
A dry and indifferent tone.
It was a reaction as if he didn't care who the person in front of him was.
"What kind of deal?"
He asked as if telling her to say whatever she wanted.
There was no expectation or wariness.
It was as if he was just reacting reflexively to the countless approaches he had received.
"...It's the kind of story that can't be told in this place."
Ludville chuckled.
"I suppose so. A mysterious figure in a hood, a secret story, a special condition that it must be just the two of us... That's how the self-proclaimed Saintess and the deposed princess all started."
"I'm..."
"Do you want to say that you are the woman I'm looking for?"
He asked without even looking at Odelia properly.
"..."
She couldn't answer.
As silence continued, Ludville turned his head as if he had become tired of all this.
"I should dismiss the banquet soon."
And he got up from his seat, completely ignoring her.
Odelia was momentarily speechless.
"..."
The urge to reveal that she was the person he was looking for suddenly reared its head.
But that was something that should never happen.
Odelia would die before she turned thirty.
A terminally ill patient with only about five years left to live.
If Ludville were to become attached to someone like that again...
That would be driving him to ruin once more.
Ludville walked past Odelia.
As if a miracle had happened and the sea had parted, people quietly opened the way in front of him.
On the red carpet, the hem of his black cloak fluttered indifferently.
Odelia silently watched his back for a long time.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ludville left the banquet hall and walked aimlessly down the long corridor.
As the splendid music and laughter faded away, the emptiness in his heart deepened.
Since when was it?
When did the world start to go awry little by little?
A man who was born a slave and crawled up from the lowest depths of the empire.
The Grand Duke of Excepcion, who ruled the northernmost and harshest land of the empire.
With the venom etched in his blood, he had cut down thousands of enemies and severed hundreds of conspiracies.
But...
'...Annoying.'
He didn't know why, but it was.
Commanding soldiers, pledging allegiance to the empire.
Winning, conquering, ruling.
Repeat, repeat.
At some point, it all felt meaningless.
Why had he fought so fiercely?
What had he sacrificed his life for?
He spoke, moved, and breathed, but everything felt like a shell.
The voices of people laughing and chatting were distant and meaningless, as if they were coming from beyond the wall.
And that feeling was indescribably unpleasant.
He felt like he had forgotten the most important thing.
Something that would have been better to die than forget...
"Ugh."
At that moment, his body staggered from a sudden pain.
