Chapter 118: Sophien (3)

Chapter 118: Sophien (3)

My heart had stopped beating, and my lungs had failed. As all my vital organs shut down, except for my brain, my body temperature dropped, and the nerves in my fingers and toes grew rigid. My body was already dead.

However, the body of an Iron Man delayed my death. My blood vessels, in place of my heart and lungs, rhythmically contracted and expanded, forcing blood and oxygen through my body. It was a temporary fix, a brief reprieve, but it gave me the time I needed.

In order to keep my death hidden from Sophien in this world, allowing her memories to continue without interruption, I headed toward the underground chamber of the Imperial Palace. The wooden door was already open, as if it had been waiting. I moved forward, slowly stepping into the depths of the darkness.

"You knew this was going to happen," came a voice from behind.

I turned around and saw the Demon’s Mirror, its face a reflection of Sophien.

"It's all over," the Mirror said. "And you're dead."

I nodded. I had drained nearly sixty thousand mana points in a single moment and let a massive surge of demonic energy flood into my body. After that, survival had never been an option.

“I am aware of that.”

“Then why did you do it? I’m just curious,” the Mirror asked.

I closed my eyes as a flood of thoughts surged in—some belonging to Deculein, others to Kim Woo-Jin. But there was only one answer to the demon’s question.

“I made a promise, and I refuse to lose.”

My body had already given out, and even my brain was slowly shutting down. Yet, oddly enough, a smile spread across my face. I managed to open my eyes and fix my gaze on the demon.

“I refused to let a wretched demon like you claim this world, or the Empress,” I concluded.

The demon's expression stiffened. It muttered under its breath before giving a small nod and said, "Well, congratulations. You won."

Those were its final words. First, my vision faded, then my hearing. The world dimmed, sinking into silence. In that stillness, in the hollow emptiness, I felt death drawing near—cold, unbearably cold...

***

Sophien woke from her sleep, her thoughts still hazy. Her memories were tangled, but one thing was certain—Deculein had fulfilled his promise to her.

"... That stubborn man," Sophien murmured with a faint smile.

Deculein had witnessed all of her deaths—except for the three times she had been assassinated instead of falling to her illness. But after she had finally recovered, he had left.

“And yet...” Sophien murmured, glancing around her chambers. Two teacups rested on the table, the coffee long since gone cold—just as it was when Deculein left. “He said we would meet again.”

Frowning, she picked up the cup and used her mana to warm it before taking a sip. She drummed her fingers on the table, waiting. She wondered how long it would take for him to come from the underground chamber to her room. Glancing at the clock, she checked the time.

Tick-tock— Tick-tock— Tick-tock—

Seconds had passed, yet Deculein still hadn’t returned. The Imperial Palace was expansive, but surely it wouldn’t have taken more than ten minutes for him to arrive. Growing impatient, she crossed her arms and pursed her lips in frustration.

"Your Majesty!" came a sudden disturbance from outside her chamber.

With a wave of Telekinesis, Sophien opened the door and said, “What’s causing all this noise?”

"There is a serious matter in the palace’s underground chamber—"

Before her vassal could finish speaking, her eyes widened, and she leaped to her feet. Her legs moved before her thoughts could catch up, with dozens of officials and knights rushing after her.

"Your Majesty! Over here, something unexplainable—"

Sophien hurried to the underground chamber, where a wooden door stood at the far end. Beside it was a solitary figure. She approached in a daze, her vision blurring with each step, and her footing grew unsteady.

“Ha...” Sophien scoffed, a helpless laugh escaping her lips. Without realizing it, her hand curled into a fist. “... You said you’d stand before me at the end of my journey.”

It was Deculein. His body, overtaken by demonic energy, leaned lifelessly against the wall, his veins dark and swollen. To any observer, he appeared as nothing more than a corpse.

“Is this how you meant to stand before me?” Sophien murmured, a cold headache pressing at the edges of her thoughts.

Suddenly, countless memories surged through her—fragments of her long life spent with the one who had stood beside her through every regression, leaving traces in each cycle.

“Y-your Majesty, please do not go near... Th-the demonic energy may—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Sophien commanded, dismissing her vassal's warning. She stepped closer, her gaze fixed on Deculein's lifeless face.

“I will be watching over Your Highness, no matter where or when.”

His final words echoed in her mind.

“Even if I’m out of sight for a time... I will always be with you on your journey.”

Sophien glanced down at the sword hanging at her waist, an ancient blade that had been passed down through the imperial line to each Emperor or Empress.

“... May I ask one favor of you?”

If I were to commit suicide now, you would come back to life due to the regression, Sophien thought.

“From now on... no matter what happens, you must not take your life by your own choice.”

Did you foresee this outcome when you spoke those words?

“You must value your life, Your Highness.”

Did you truly believe I would take my own life for your sake? You damn fool. If you were going to die like this, you should have at least had the decency to tell me.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

A surge of emotions, ones Sophien couldn’t quite name, flooded through her. Amid the chaos, she noticed a small piece of paper sticking out from Deculein’s jacket pocket. Reaching out, she pulled the scrap free.

“... Your Majesty,” Jolang, the eunuch, called softly at that moment.

Sophien turned to face him, her gaze sharpening into a cold glare. His usually impassive face betrayed a faint trace of amusement, one she couldn’t fully understand.

“Two knights have been detained in the Imperial Palace prison.”

“Knights?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Yulie and Keiron were caught conducting an unsanctioned duel within the palace grounds.”

Sophien let out a bitter laugh and replied, "... What the absolute fuck happened while I was asleep?"

***

Empress Sophien had personally visited the Imperial prison. Yulie and Keiron had been confined to separate cells.

She cast her gaze over the two knights before saying, “Who claimed victory?”

Neither knight spoke, their silence hanging in the air.

"Do you plan to ignore me? Or was it just a pointless brawl, not a proper duel?"

There was a distinct difference between a duel and a brawl. Duels between knights were considered sacred and often granted some leniency in judgment, but a brawl was an entirely different matter. A fight within the palace grounds could, in severe cases, result in execution.

“... I was defeated, Your Majesty,” Yulie eventually responded.

Sophien smirked and remarked, “Naturally. It would’ve been surprising if you had won.”

“Your Majesty,” Yulie asked cautiously, her face tinged with fear. “Has there been any word about Professor Deculein—”

“He’s dead.”

Yulie’s head snapped up, shock flooding her expression.

Nearly a century and countless deaths... Do you still remember me? I believed, if anyone could hold on, it would be you—you wouldn’t forget me, would you? Sophien asked in her mind.

“... What are you referring to, Your Majesty?” Deculein asked plainly.

Sophien clenched her teeth, swallowing her disappointment, before shifting the conversation. “About those Altar bastards.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. How could I forget such a thing?”

“How could I forget such a thing?”

His voice echoed in Sophien’s mind as she sat in silence, absorbing every word.

"This time...”

Having you by my side, I was able to endure everything, Sophien thought.

“I will crush them myself, bit by bit, with my own hands."

Therefore, you have kept your promise. After more than a hundred deaths and regressions, even if you don’t remember the endless suffering, I still do. Your sacrifice and loyalty hold the same worth. You have fulfilled your promise.

“So then... for today,” Sophien began, recalling the moment when Deculein had once suggested they play chess.

“Let’s play chess.”

Deculein’s brow twitched at her words, and Sophien quickly caught the subtle shift in his expression.

Then, Deculein asked aloud, “Have you called me here so early in the morning just for a game of chess?”

“What of it? Are you going to refuse?”

“... No, Your Majesty.”

"Good," Sophien said, placing the chessboard on the table with a wave of Telekinesis. She took the white pieces, leaving Deculein with the black. "Shall we begin?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Deculein replied, his confidence evident.

Of course. That damn man never allowed me a single victory in all those memories.

Click—

Sophien advanced a black pawn, and Deculein followed by shifting a white pawn in response.

Click—

His opening had been aggressive, but Sophien countered with a calm, measured response.

With her gaze fixed on the chessboard, she spoke again, “Deculein.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

"Did you know? No matter how many times I regress, there are some skills that, for instance, do not fade."

"And what might that be?"

“Chess,” Sophien answered.

Deculein nodded with understanding and said, “It’s logical. Magic weakens without the proper restoration of its circuits, and swordsmanship erodes without consistent physical discipline. But chess, much like other intellectual pursuits—”

“That’s enough. I didn’t ask for an analysis,” Sophien said sharply, moving her knight with force as she shot him a glare. “I was simply stating a fact.”

"... Of course, Your Majesty," Deculein responded, a hint of confusion in his voice as he continued positioning his pieces.

The rest of the game played out in silence, with each move met by a precise response. When Deculein advanced, Sophien countered; when she pushed forward, he blocked. The outcome had already become clear.

“Damn it. A draw, is it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. In theory, when both players perform flawlessly, a draw is the most probable result,” Deculein explained.

Sophien observed him, noting how intently he analyzed the chessboard.

“I’m quite skilled at it. Even if you spent your entire life trying, you wouldn’t be able to defeat me.”

The words he had spoken through the mirror echoed in her mind.

“Perhaps when you do manage to beat me, it will mean you’ve fully recovered.”

“No, it isn’t,” Sophien muttered.

Even now that I’ve fully recovered, it’s still just a draw. So, you were wrong.

“I was speaking strictly in theoretical terms, Your Majesty,” Deculein responded.

Sophien found his aristocratic face unusually bothersome today. After a moment’s thought, she gestured toward the door with her chin and said, “That’s enough for today. Get going. I’m sure your fiancée is waiting.”

“My fiancée... Are you referring to Yulie?”

"Yes. One game is more than enough for today."

“... Yes, Your Majesty,” Deculein replied, standing from his seat.

He bowed and turned to leave, while Sophien rested her chin on her hand, pretending indifference. As he walked away, she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Creeeak...

He had walked with steady steps, the sound of his footsteps gradually fading before the door clicked shut behind him. In the brief moment before it fully closed, Sophien caught a final glimpse of his broad back.

Thud—!

After the door closed, leaving her alone, Sophien idly fiddled with the chess pieces. Then, reaching to her waist, she pulled out a small object—a hand mirror.

“... Hey,” Sophien asked, her gaze fixed on the mirror. “Are you there?”

No response came, no matter how long she waited. Eventually, she leaned back in her chair.

“If not, then it doesn’t matter.”

She let out a deep sigh as she opened the drawer and tucked the hand mirror away. Afterward, she drew back the curtains. Sunlight streamed in through the window, scattering like flower petals across the room. She stared at the light, her hands absently moving over her body. Somehow, the ennui that had been gnawing at her seemed to ease, even if only a little.

“Keiron!” Sophien called.

Keiron’s voice came from beyond the door, “At your command, Your Majesty.”

“It’s been a while, but I’ll get some exercise!”

Keiron hesitated, momentarily taken aback. Before he could gather himself, Sophien had already thrown the door wide open. He stood there, briefly stunned.

“Why are you standing there like a complete idiot?” Sophien asked, giving Keiron a firm punch on the shoulder.

“Well, uh—”

“Follow me,” Sophien commanded.

Then she walked with unwavering confidence, each step resonating with poise, and there wasn’t a trace of hesitation or lethargy in her posture.

Finally, it was time for the Empress to step out into the world.