Chapter 145

The translation's quality improves over time, even I've got to admit it was kinda shite in the beginning... So I just knew TODAY (Sept 1st 2024) that this novel still has 16 chapters of SIDE STORIES! I'll finish it before September ends, so please keep checking this page? Haha

In the corridors of the palace, the severed head of the crown prince rolled, and the palace was thrown into chaos.

No one could easily restrain the 2nd Prince, and they hesitated.

In his madness, the sword in his hand could strike anyone next...

But Nathan neither fled nor spilled more blood, continuing to smile in that spot. Gazing at Lark, whose eyes were losing their light, he cast aside the sword he held.

As if to say,

“If I can only kill you, that’s enough.”

It was done.

“Ah, aah...”

The emperor, who had rushed there in haste, collapsed, doubting his own eyes.

It was a tragically catastrophic finale.

***

[Imperial Calendar January 13, 1521.

The day when Crown Prince Lark van Rashmagh Descarde passed away.

The one who assassinated him was his half-brother and the second prince, Nathan van Rashmagh Descarde.

It is known that this tragedy marked the culmination of the power struggle within the imperial royal family.

This...]

This is... a turning point of the Descarde Empire that will be used in the future.

Vista, the spirit who was looking at that tragic record with closed eyes, suddenly turned around at the approaching presence behind.

“Landian?”

Unlike their previous encounters, Landian’s aura was undeniably different now.

He had returned without his contractee.

“Are you okay?”

“...”

There was no response as the imposing figure approached and sat down next to him. Though Vista couldn’t see, he could keenly feel Landian’s complex and subtle emotions.

“It looks like you’re not okay.”

“Well, it’s not like I didn’t expect this to happen.”

“You probably didn’t expect it to happen this quickly. You didn’t even get to say your final goodbye.”

With a sigh, Landian propped his head up with both arms and lay back. “I’ve never had a contract severed like this before.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Since he had protected humans, a few contractees had passed through Landian, but the endings had always been ordinary. He had only watched as they lived, aged, and peacefully closed their eyes when their time came.

“But this one’s pretty strange.”

In the end, the face of Lark, whose light had faded unnoticed, flashed in Landian’s mind.

Recalling that tragic ending, Landian asked, his lips quivering, “I know this was Lark’s second life. He died young in his previous life as well. Of course, I have no memory of it...”

“Yeah, that’s right. The king rewound 30 years, after all.”

Landian asked, watching Vista respond as though he knew everything, “By any chance, did you know that we had regressed?”

“You found out because of the king’s contractee, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Yeah. Unlike you, I knew even without anyone telling me. Because I’m a spirit who manipulates time. Spirits that manipulate time can instinctively sense disruptions in the flow of time, like cutting one thread and sewing in another. The 30 years the king rewound felt like that.”

“I see.”

“Are you blaming yourself by any chance?” Vista asked subtly.

“It’s true that it makes me feel powerless. Twice, in this manner... In fact, when you told me about my contractee’s death in advance, I even thought about whether I could do something...”

“Don’t do that. It’s not your fault. Why do you think the word ‘fate’ exists?” Vista comforted Landian by gently patting his head. “I see thousands of branches of the future. But all humans seem to meet similar endings within those thousands of branches.”

“...”

“Your contractee is no different. He has countless branches of the future, but the end is almost the same. He dies at a young age.”

“Fate seems to defy anything you do. It’s truly frustrating,” Landian muttered somewhat dismissively and, after a moment of silence, asked indirectly, “Is there really... nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all?”

“You mean there isn’t a single branch of fate where Lark, that guy, peacefully grows old and dies?”

As if he had been waiting, Wishit appeared.

The true form of the Spirit King with his splendid golden hair still felt unfamiliar, but to Rubette right now, he felt like a savior.

“Ah, haa...”

She almost burst into tears when she saw him, but Rubette held back.

As Wishit observed her face, he remained silent with a pained expression.

“Rubette!”

Wishit managed to catch Rubette, who was staggering and almost fell.

“Wishit...” Rubette’s pale hand, tightly clutching the hem of Wishit’s garment, trembled uncontrollably. “I, I must have made a mistake. Like a fool...”

“Calm down.”

Held in Wishit’s arms, Rubette breathed heavily as if she could collapse at any moment, and barely murmured, “Wishit.”

“I’m listening. Speak.”

Rubette raised her head with great effort.

Seeing her expression strained as if she were forcibly holding herself together was heartbreaking, so Wishit bit his lips tightly.

The tears that had welled up in her eyes didn’t fall, barely held back. It felt like, amidst the confusion, there was a strong determination to remain calm.

“I’m going to make my second wish.”

The second wish.

For Rubette, who had vowed not to make a third wish in order to be with Wishit, this would likely be her last...

Her second wish.

“Yes.”

Wishit smiled sadly, wiped away the tears in Rubette’s eyes, and asked, “What do you wish for?”

***

Lark opened his eyes to the dim dawn light streaming in through the window.

The clock showed 5 o’clock in the morning. It had been the same waking time for years.

“Hmm.”

Stretching his stiff neck, he got out of bed and removed his nightgown, standing in front of the mirror. Then, in a familiar routine, he glanced at the bedside table next to the full-length mirror. A calendar lay there, filled with appointments.

[January 13th.

07:00 Palace Guards

09:00 Duke Diollus

14:00 Ruby]

As Lark quickly skimmed through his schedule for the day, he noticed Rubette’s name and couldn’t help but raise the corner of his lips.

Every time he had an appointment with her, he used to write something as formal as “Princess Diollus”. But now, the newly formed closeness was evident, and it brought a smile to his face.

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

At that moment, a disturbance that was out of place for the time when it should have been quiet, disrupted the tranquility. Lark was startled by the noise from outside the door.

“P-Princess! You can’t do this!”

“Why are you doing this!?”

The confused voices of the guards and attendants outside the door could be heard.

Startled, Lark quickly put on the gown in his hand and approached the door.

“What’s—”

Clang!

And then he was surprised.

The door was rudely pushed open from the outside before he could open it himself.

“Rubette?”

Before him stood Rubette, looking disheveled.

“Ahh...”

“Why...”

Rubette, croaking with red eyes and mouth open for some reason, collapsed into Lark’s arms.