I Will Live for Your Death (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 13
There are times when someone’s gaze approaches not as interest, but as violence.
Right now, the Licas Mercenary Company found themselves in precisely such a situation. As always, they had entered the capital with their faces hidden beneath hoods, yet ironically, they had ended up drawing even more attention.
The closer they drew to the imperial palace, the more hostile the crowd’s gazes became—so palpably unpleasant it felt like it was crawling on their skin. It went beyond mere curiosity; some were openly showing their distaste.
“Mama, who are those people?”
“Shh. Pretend you don’t see them. If we get dragged into trouble for no reason, it’ll be serious.”
“They must be that mercenary company the Emperor summoned.”
“They’re from the North? There are plenty of mercenaries who are former soldiers—why did they have to contract specifically with those northerners…?”
“Has the Empire’s military strength declined so much that they’re hiring barbarians?”
It was utterly baffling why people insisted on saying things they shouldn’t, loud enough for them to hear. Lailo, sensing the mood of the surrounding stares, sidled closer to Rivel.
“Captain.”
“What.”
“Please show your face.”
“…No.”
“This is the perfect chance to sway public opinion. Can’t you see how hurt the others are by the way people are looking at them? If you just reveal your face once, those gossips will shut right up. Have you already forgotten how people reacted at the tavern last time?”
Rivel remained silent regardless. Lailo heaved a deep sigh, steeled himself with resolve, and reached toward Rivel’s hood.
“Oops—my hand slipped.”
Rivel shot Lailo a displeased glare. Though this creased his well-defined brows into a frown, it only accentuated his straight nose and strong eyebrows even more. A collective gasp rippled through the gathered crowd.
“He’s… quite handsome.”
“Seriously. Why hide such a face?”
“Let me get a look too. Handsome men are rare.”
“Hey, aren’t those the people from the last festival? From Clover Tavern!”
“Right! The ones who put the Imperial Guard in their place, I think?”
Public opinion shifted as easily as flipping a palm. The mercenaries, who had been tense under the negative atmosphere, relaxed their shoulders slightly in the newly friendly mood. Lailo stood proudly, almost swaggering with satisfaction.
‘See, you fools? This is our captain!’
Though there were still a few voices maligning northerners, they were negligible now—like a drop of water on a duck’s back. Still, younger members like Eddie were sensitive to even these scattered negative comments.
“It’s so unfair and spiteful… How are northerners supposed to live when everyone’s always calling us barbaric? Sure, the capital and its immediate vicinity have been developed nicely, but what about mountainous regions or border territories?”
Eddie grumbled quietly under his breath. Indeed, while the capital and its surrounding areas boasted dazzling development, the countryside lagged far behind, showing stark disparity.
Moreover, the northern regions of the Empire had frequent dealings with nomadic tribes, naturally leading to cultural exchange. Their practice of thinly slicing frozen raw meat was a well-known culinary custom, even in the capital.
“All we ever hear is how we’re barbarians who eat raw meat, or savage killers roaming around. I swear, even if I cover my ears, I can still hear them whispering about how they’ll execute us.”
“You’ve dealt with this your whole life. Just endure it.”
When would people finally stop dividing each other based on where they were born? Accustomed to such prejudice, Lailo patted Eddie’s back and strode ahead—a small comfort only an adult who’d grown up eating humble meals could offer.
They would reach the imperial palace soon. Ahead lay a place filled with strangers and powerful figures who towered so high one had to crane their neck to see them. They moved forward, feeling a heavier pressure than the first time they’d entered the palace grounds.
**
Ilyd’s secret meeting with Turgel, the former captain of the Licas Mercenary Company, had taken place about a month ago.
On the outskirts of the capital lay winding alleyways. Sandwiched between tightly packed houses, these alleys remained shadowed and dim even at midday.
Those familiar with the area used them as shortcuts, moving freely about. Yet, in such secluded corners, crimes could occur unnoticed.
Deep within one narrow alley, Turgel leaned against a wall, having arrived after receiving prior notice. She gave a slight nod, her dark crimson hair swaying with the motion.
Beside her lay a massive axe, angled carelessly against the ground—its size rivaling her own imposing frame. Her rolled-up sleeves revealed pale arms crisscrossed with old, dark scars.
Her intimidating presence alone discouraged anyone in the alley from speaking to her or even meeting her eyes.
After some time passed, Ilyd approached Turgel, her face concealed beneath a hat and mask. She spoke the prearranged password.
“I’ve come to rescue a bird.”
“Which bird do you mean?”
“The Red Hawk.”
Hearing this, Turgel gestured toward the woman. The young lady was fully cloaked, hooded, and masked—her entire posture screaming that her identity must remain hidden.
Most who sought such covert meetings had predictable motives. Turgel feigned ignorance to test the woman.
“Are you here to commission an assassination?”
“…He’s not someone I can simply let go easily.”
“If you’d like, I can make it as painful as possible.”
“That’s not enough.”
Despite her delicate build, her voice rang with steely resolve. Turgel sensed a fierce glint in the woman’s eyes behind the mask. She didn’t bother asking for the woman’s tragic backstory.
Some rages ran too deep for words. Who dared guess their true depth?
Ilyd had to steady her quickening breath. Merely closing her eyes brought to mind the faces of everyone she’d lived with at the Melphiram estate.
None of the household staff had survived. Not even the private guards belonging to the Melphiram name. From the butler to the cooks and gardeners—even the young children who handled odd jobs.
Ilyd’s elder brother, Limres Rowen Melphiram, who commanded Melphiram’s private soldiers, had endured horrific torture in prison before falsely confessing that House Melphiram had plotted treason.
The Count, the Countess, and Limres himself—all of Ilyd’s family—had been sentenced to death. Her brother’s execution had been swift, and Ilyd hadn’t even been allowed to hold a proper funeral for them.
To anyone’s eyes, House Melphiram was clearly not the sort to conspire against the throne.
Limres’s confession was widely believed to be coerced through torture. Someone else had deliberately pinned the crime on the Melphirams and systematically driven them to their deaths.
That someone was Emperor Claudius—and the faction of nobles who shielded and backed him.
Ilyd dreamed of revenge, slow but invisible. Every night, she imagined plunging a dagger into Claudius’s chest as he slept.
But death alone wasn’t enough. To truly exact revenge, she had to take what he cherished most.
His desperate grasp for power—and the Astrid Empire itself.
Ilyd intended to destroy it all.
“I’ve heard plenty about the Licas Mercenary Company. At the very least, it’s said you don’t plunder or burn villages even after winning battles.”
“Well… some might call us hypocrites—after all, we’re hardly strangers to bloodshed or assassination—but it’s one of our core rules.”
That was why she’d chosen them. Ilyd wanted allies driven by more than just greed.
Her ultimate goal was to absorb the mercenary company into her own forces.
As Empress, privately contracting mercenaries was nearly impossible. Though the Emperor’s surveillance had lessened somewhat, it hadn’t vanished completely.
“What’s your request?”
Ilyd moistened her parched lips. Though she tried to appear calm, her body stiffened involuntarily at the thought of what lay ahead.
“In a month, the Empire’s Founding Festival will be held in the capital of Astrid. On the first day of the festival, stir up trouble by entangling the Imperial Guard. The location is here.”
She handed over a folded note.
Inside was written the name and address of Clover Tavern.
She’d recently coaxed this information discreetly from the palace maids.
‘Everyone will be out celebrating the Founding Festival. Where do people usually go these days? With officers on leave, the capital’s going to be chaotic.’
‘We’re heading to Blue Tavern! It’s quiet there, so we can gossip and relax.’
‘I see… What about crowded places?’
‘Definitely Clover Tavern! Imperial Guard officers go there often. Most young folks head there too—it’s one of the rare chances for commoners like us to mingle with nobles.’
The maids chattered eagerly around Ilyd. Had the Empress Dowager still been alive, she surely would’ve been shocked by this scene. But Ilyd rarely insisted on formality outside official occasions.
It suited her reputation as a kind and approachable Empress. Thus, the maids felt comfortable sharing all sorts of stories openly yet respectfully.
Noticing some maids felt uneasy due to status differences and imperial etiquette, Ilyd deliberately revealed her loneliness.
‘Don’t forget—I can’t even leave the Empire without His Imperial Majesty’s permission.’
Seeing the Empress’s sorrowful eyes, the maids immediately sprang into action, eagerly sharing snippets of gossip they’d picked up on the streets or within the palace whenever they got the chance.
Thanks to this, they’d become excellent informants inside and outside the palace—just as Ilyd had intended.
This time too, she’d naturally gleaned the needed intelligence through the maids. Watching the note leave her hands, Ilyd thought quietly:
‘If the mercenary company succeeds, I’ll have to reward the palace maids in the Empress’s quarters—even if just modestly.’
Turgel unfolded the note—and for a moment, doubted her eyes and ears. Was this mysterious, heavily veiled woman really paying good money for such a trivial task?
Sensing Turgel’s skepticism, Ilyd quickly added:
“I’ll pay the advance immediately.”
A hefty bundle of coins landed in Turgel’s palm—far more generous than the simplicity of the request warranted.
‘Is this a test before formalizing the contract?’
While stowing the money away, Turgel stole a quick glance at the enigmatic woman.
Was she trying to personally assess how the mercenary company handled crises and gauge their true capabilities? Concealing her doubts, Turgel added one more line:
“The person who’ll likely take on your request is our next captain.”
“Aren’t you the captain?”
“I retire in a few days. But don’t worry—he’s reliable.”
Ilyd gave a brief nod and swiftly left the alley. Having left Lynette waiting at the alley entrance, she had to hurry back alone.
If the mercenaries clashed with and defeated the Imperial Guard, news would surely reach Claudius. Even if nothing else came of it, a slight bruise to his pride would be enough to draw his attention.
Especially since this Founding Festival was not only a national event but also officially promoted as a morale-boosting occasion for the Imperial Guard.
Thus, Claudius’s Guard enjoyed a sweet holiday throughout the festival—a privilege reserved solely for units composed of noble-born youths.
Would such men really spend their leave quietly in their quarters?
This wasn’t a one-off occurrence. Every festival, Imperial Guard officers caused drunken incidents. This time would be no different.
What if the mercenary company was stationed at a tavern known to attract many Guard officers? And if a natural conflict arose, culminating in the mercenaries clearly gaining the upper hand?
Word of it would inevitably reach Claudius’s ears.
From here on, fate itself would need to favor Ilyd.
Claudius would certainly move to wage war as usual. And Ilyd knew that a duchy which had once hired the Licas Mercenary Company had fought the Empire.
While the mercenaries were present, the duchy held the advantage—but once they withdrew, the Empire crushed them effortlessly.
Aware of this, Claudius would temporarily set aside his wounded pride and propose a contract with them.
Victory in conquest meant enhanced imperial prestige. Wasn’t he precisely the sort of man who’d drink poison if it guaranteed military triumph?
‘Please… just this once, help me.’
Ilyd prayed—something she hadn’t done in a very long time. It was her first prayer since losing her entire family and household.
Once a single small cog began to turn, the rest would follow naturally. Though her forces were insignificant compared to Claudius’s army, even this tiny advantage was vital to Ilyd.
‘I need them.’
And fortune, at last, took Ilyd’s hand.
**
“Your Imperial Majesty, the mercenary company has arrived.”
“…I see.”
Outside the imperial palace grounds stood a designated encampment for mercenaries—prepared specially, given how often the Empire contracted them. The newly arrived group was likely settling their belongings and resting there.
There would be no formal reception ceremony. Claudius had declared a welcome event unnecessary but, acknowledging their long journey, had summoned Ilyd from the Empress’s quarters for a brief greeting.
Ilyd fended off Lynette beside her, using the excuse that she wished to rest briefly. Leaning her forehead against the window in momentary quiet, she tried to steady her trembling nerves.
They’d met once at a tavern, but since she hadn’t revealed her face then, they probably wouldn’t recognize her.
Worrying unnecessarily would only stiffen her expression and invite suspicion. She simply needed to behave naturally—as the kindhearted Empress everyone knew her to be.
It was time to meet them.
Male lead is a clingy little husband
One-line summary: The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
Introduction:
One day, Lu Yuner’s soul transmigrates into a female-dominant world. She enters the Imperial Academy and takes up the position of a doctoral instructor, teaching classes and grading schoolwork.
One day, she encounters the young prince Su Qingwan secretly skipping class from the male academy.
As a result, Su Qingwan is punished.
From then on, Su Qingwan sees Lu Yuner as a “thorn in his side”.
But before long, this “thorn” becomes the person he cherishes most, and he goes to great lengths to win Lu Yuner’s affection.
Mini scene 1:
One day, the sun is high in the sky but Su Qingwan still hasn’t gotten up for class.
Servant Xiaoyuan: “Young prince, it’s time for class. You’ll be late otherwise.”
Su Qingwan says arrogantly: “I’m not going. I am the esteemed prince, my status is so noble, why should I suffer this hardship? Besides, isn’t learning all this just to please women? Hmph, they’re not worthy!”
Mini scene 2:
After Su Qingwan falls for someone, he completely changes. He no longer skips class and diligently learns how to be a good husband and father. But he discovers that Sister Yuner is always surrounded by admirers.
Drunk and overcome with jealousy one day, he clings to Lu Yuner, crying beautifully like a pear blossom in the rain.
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan likes Sister Yuner.”
Lu Yuner: “Young prince, you’re drunk.”
Su Qingwan: “Qingwan isn’t drunk. Qingwan likes Sister Yuner, likes you so much, likes you to bits…” Before he can finish, Lu Yuner’s eyes flash with emotion and she leans in closer.
[Reading Guide]
1. The female lead is gentle, gracious, humble and polite but not weak. The male lead is initially an arrogant, noble, love-deprived brat, later a cute, clingy, scheming little jealous one.
2. 1v1, a bit torturous in the beginning but definitely sweet later on.
_____
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