Fearlessly (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 6
Lakrahan raised one eyebrow.
Jeffrey lifted the bottle again to pour himself another drink and spoke.
“On the battlefield, you know. When even keeping my own life was hard, you were the only one who went around saving others.”
Three fingers were missing from the hand that set down the bottle.
He raised that hand to show it to Lakrahan.
“They were exchanged for lives. Not a single one was worth regretting.”
If not for Lakrahan, Jeffrey would have had to give his neck, not just his fingers.
“Why are you bringing up old war stories again?”
Lakrahan also picked up the wine cup placed before him.
Though he was king of the North, he sought neither formality nor authority like others did.
He still ate meals and trained in the same place with his people, as if they were still on the battlefield.
Whenever trouble arose in the village, he rolled up his sleeves and went to help.
“So what I’m trying to say is this.”
Jeffrey leaned closer, looking frustrated.
“That lady and you, my lord, are exactly the same.”
“…What?”
“Someone who steps forward to save those no one else would save—that’s you and her. To me, you two seem alike.”
Jeffrey stretched his upper lip as if surprised she hadn’t realized it, then quickly tossed another gulp of liquor into his mouth.
In the dimly lit room, Bercheria sat alone, staring down at her own hand.
After clenching and unclenching it several times, tiny droplets of water began to bead upon it.
“My strength is slowly returning.”
At first, she had regained the ability to speak; next, she could barely manipulate water.
And now, her self-healing ability had come back.
“Ha…”
Why, though?
She didn’t understand the reason behind all this, but one thing was certain.
Lakrahan.
Every time she became entangled with that man, the power she’d believed lost forever returned.
What was so special about him?
“Could he perhaps possess the ice attribute?”
She tilted her head in puzzlement.
“I thought the lords of the North all had ice attributes. Was I mistaken?”
Her muttering lacked confidence.
By principle, Bercheria should now possess all the knowledge that previous Awakeners had seen and heard.
After all, the life records of Awakeners were inscribed within the power of the Weather Goddess.
But during her imprisonment in the tower, she had forgotten not only her abilities but also her memories.
Those memories, cleanly severed as if by scissors, never returned no matter how much time passed.
“I wish I had a bit more information.”
It was her mother who had taken all these things from her.
To Bercheria, her mother had been her entire world—the only human she could ever touch.
She’d known her mother was destroying her, yet she’d had no choice but to endure it.
So when the chance to escape finally came, she hadn’t looked back at anything.
Even though the place most precious to her lay within the tower, she hadn’t mustered the courage to take it with her.
Returning, becoming a goddess again—even the important object left in the tower—felt meaningless.
She never wanted to spend the rest of her life locked away in that tower again.
Just the thought of breathing proper air and stepping on green grass was enough reason to leave everything behind.
She’d wanted to live alone, where no one would ever know who she was.
But the moment she saw those children trapped in the flames, she instinctively understood.
She had been born to protect her people and bring them prosperity—and she could never escape that instinct.
That, in the end, she would have to return to the tower to reclaim what was hers.
That even if her mother caught her again and locked her away, she’d have no choice but to go back.
Bercheria recalled the moment she first met Tatiana.
“Are you a grown-up, older sister? What kind of grown-up hides in a tree?”
“Did your mom die too, like ours?”
Yeah.
“I wish my mother would disappear from this world.”
Bercheria drew her knees up and buried her face in them.
“Whoever you are, I don’t care. Please help me, Lakrahan.”
Her forehead, pressed against her dry skin, burned hot.
Knock knock.
“Huh!”
Startled by the sudden knock, Bercheria jerked her head up.
Her heart pounded as if it might burst—what if her mother had come looking for her?
Lakrahan. May I come in for a moment?
“Oh…”
A thin breath escaped from her deathly pale face.
“May I come in for a moment?”
Lakrahan’s voice echoed down the quiet corridor.
On the other side of the door, the faint rustle of a dress hem could barely be heard.
“Huh.”
Lakrahan exhaled lightly.
He’d wasted quite a while standing right here before finally knocking.
‘Bercheria, of all people.’
No matter how many times he turned it over in his mind, it made neither sense nor reason.
The Weather Goddess, missing for half a century, had appeared before him of her own accord.
There had once been a time when everyone in the North longed desperately for Bercheria.
Lakrahan himself had hoped she would return and restore order to this chaotic era.
He’d witnessed it all—people dying from drought, and during war, anyone strong enough to lift a sword dragged straight into hell.
He’d watched helplessly as the brilliant lives of his own knights were cut down before his eyes.
He’d prayed fervently.
Only she could do it.
It had been a war only she alone could stop.
After all, everyone in this land knew that as long as a deity set foot in the Periat Empire, their protective power would manifest.
“…?”
Suddenly, Lakrahan’s eyes sharpened.
‘But then, why can’t I sense any protective aura now?’
If Bercheria were truly here, her presence should already be touching every human.
“That’s strange.”
He realized he’d overlooked the most basic thing all this time.
What if she hadn’t been unable to return—but had never actually left in the first place?
Then perhaps her abilities—
“…Have been lost?”
Creak.
The sound of the doorframe scraping echoed before him.
Lakrahan furrowed his brow slightly and lowered his gaze through the widening gap in the door.
‘A goddess who’s lost her powers…’
Viewed that way, all the fragmented pieces of the story suddenly connected.
If, for some reason, she’d lost her protective power and was now struggling to regain it?
Before Lakrahan’s thought even finished, a small face peeked out through the crack.
Bercheria had opened the door just a finger’s width and was peering out cautiously.
Blonde hair swayed gently atop her small head, its dense crown visible as it shimmered.
“…”
Why hadn’t he considered this from the start?
From her disheveled appearance to the fearful look in her eyes—
anyone could see she looked utterly lost.
“Hmm…”
But this was merely his speculation, after all.
If he wanted her help and intended to give her what she desired, he needed to verify this hypothesis.
She was a deity who had betrayed and abandoned humanity.
If he let his guard down, even greater misfortune might follow.
He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe.
“You’re not seriously thinking of inviting me in through that tiny gap, are you?”
“…!”
Her startled, upward glance was filled with fear.
Lakrahan let out an involuntary, dry chuckle.
Perhaps this woman forgot she was a goddess even more often than he did.
“I came looking for a certain goddess who threatened me in the library this afternoon—but seeing you so wary… Hmm.”
Lakrahan grinned, turned on his heel, and retraced his steps back down the hall.
“I must have mistaken your room.”
His stride was wider than usual, moving without hesitation.
Behind him, he sensed Bercheria hesitating.
‘You’re right. I don’t intend to make a deal with you.’
‘Right now, I’m threatening you, Lakrahan.’
He hadn’t managed to tell her this in the library, but in this world, there was no one who could truly threaten him.
Lakrahan wasn’t that simple a man.
Therefore, if this woman truly was Bercheria, she would have to thoroughly convince him.
She’d need to prove—without losing control, without being cowed by him—that she was the goddess capable of saving his people.
“Wait.”
Lakrahan ignored the faint voice behind him.
He moved as if he’d never turn back again.
Another thing Bercheria didn’t know: he was Periat’s famed master negotiator.
His exceptional combat prowess alone hadn’t led the Three-Continent War to victory.
It was impossible to force an entire empire and kingdom to their knees with talent alone.
Lakrahan instinctively saw into the depths of people’s souls—and knew how to use that to his advantage.
That was precisely why Emperor Gerard especially kept him in check.
“Hey!”
A feeble force rushed from behind and snatched his arm as he walked swiftly away.
His vision spun half a circle, and shimmering golden eyes filled his sight.
The moment their eyes met, Lakrahan’s brow furrowed.
“What is it?”
Her pale lips parted slightly, trembling as if unable to find words.
Lakrahan raised an eyebrow, then let it drop with a sigh.
“If you’ve nothing to say, I’ll be going.”
As he tensed to turn away again, a flat, toneless voice reached him.
“Don’t…”
“What did you say?”
Bercheria exhaled slowly.
“Don’t go. You didn’t get the wrong room.”
“Are you sure?”
Those golden eyes, which moments ago had resembled a timid herbivore, now glared up at him with clear irritation.
Maybe this much would do for now.
“If you ever want to talk with me again, remember this well: my time is far more precious to me than wealth.”
Bercheria tilted her head almost imperceptibly.
It was the movement of a young puppy, tilting its head in confusion, trying to understand human speech.
“If you waste my time like this again, there won’t be a next conversation.”
Lakrahan flicked his smooth eyebrow once more as if to drive the point home, then stepped ahead into her room.
“…!”
Bercheria stood still, silently watching his retreating back.
She’d had a similar thought before, but that man really was—
“…The more I look at him, the less I like him.”
Everyone here spoke in unison about one thing:
how good a person Lakrahan was.
Bercheria had believed it too, at first.
He’d seemed like a kind lord of the North, a good man who took self-sacrifice for granted.
“Ha. A good person?”
Bercheria reflexively placed a hand on her throat.
The sensation of the blade against her skin matched astonishingly well with the cold tone of the man’s words just moments ago.
“Not at all.”
Everyone in this castle was clearly, thoroughly deceived.
By that man.
When yandere male lead believes she loves him — but she never did
“How dare you!”
“How dare you make me love you, only to cast me aside as nothing more than a friend?!?
“I will never accept that.”
“I will never let you return to him.”
“Even if I have to burn myself to ashes.”
“Even if I must shatter my purity, my dignity, my very soul.”
“I will never let you escape me!”
This was the first novel that introduced me to the matriarchal genre. I’ve read it three times already!
At first, the male lead despised the female lead. Later, he misunderstood that she liked him, so he condescendingly and reluctantly reciprocated her feelings.
Then, he suddenly discovered that she was kind to everyone in the same way, and there was already someone she cherished in her heart, and that person was not him.
The male lead couldn’t believe it, he became angry and crazy. He was determined to capture her body and heart by any means necessary.
Synopsis:
Want to see how a green tea bitch male lead falls in love with the female lead?
Want to see how he flirtatiously pursues the female lead?
Want to see how he gets slapped in the face repeatedly?
The male lead is a green tea bitch, a poisonous lotus, jealous, ruthless, unscrupulous, with a venomous heart, and he’s also a delusional maniac.
The female lead is righteous, positive energy-filled, kind, a holy mother.
Let’s see how two people with extreme personalities come together~
_____
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I have a inkling that Lione is probably Berche’s ‘Mother’?