153. Even If Cut Away and Trampled

2024.03.01.

The Rev brothers silently stared at Clade Euphris’s retreating back as he rode on in silence.

Clade, who had chased after Yuan Pelliese, ultimately did not meet her.

Where the Rev brothers later rushed on horseback, Clade stood at the border of another estate, gazing only at the empty sky where she had vanished into a mere speck.

Standing tall against the backdrop of the setting sun, staring fixedly at one spot, Clade appeared as though his soul had drained away, leaving behind only a stone statue.

His firm cheek and well-shaped lips did not twitch at all as he gazed at the horizon—almost as if his shell remained, but his soul had already departed elsewhere.

That solid, broad back looked unbearably lonely.

The first words Clade uttered to the brothers when they found him standing there, as if abandoned by the world, were as follows:

“…Send those two doctors to Yuan Pelliese.”

And with that.

Clade fell into silence once more, spending day after day without speaking a word, just as he had when he first encountered his separated wife at the palace and returned to the manor.

Skipping meals was common; there were days he didn’t even bring a sip of water to his lips.

He showed neither the furrowed brows he once crumpled as naturally as breathing, nor the twisted smile that used to flicker across his face.

At times, he seemed to frantically ride his horse in the exact opposite direction from Yuan Pelliese.

On other days, he would suddenly pause as if he had left something behind.

And on yet other days, he simply surrendered his body to the massive warhorse, drifting without any will at all.

As though he had been burned completely into ash, leaving nothing but residue.

As the wind blew, crumbling and scattering piece by piece, until eventually nothing would remain—Lancelot forcibly approached Clade repeatedly each day, trying to break through.

Finally, after over ten days of silence, the Clade’s procession passed through the gates of Roxenhardt, and only then, as the cool air—unlike anything in the south—brushed against their cheeks, did faint murmurs begin to emerge.

“We’ve finally returned.”

Eddie, who had remained silent throughout, slowly rode up beside Clade at the front and spoke.

“It’s already a finished relationship, Clade. There’s no need to blame yourself out of misplaced responsibility. She was, after all, a woman sent by the imperial family. Even if it’s true she was ill, it’s not your fault. Even if she truly was sick, nothing would change.”

Eddie seemed anxious, eager to clarify Clade’s feelings toward Yuan before they reached the manor.

Watching Clade’s unresponsive back with a restless expression, Eddie added:

“That absurd speculation about her going to kill Bollonico is just that—pure speculation. You’ve already done enough simply by sparing Hille Hatarun’s life and sending her to that woman.”

“But what if it’s not speculation… but the truth?”

A sudden voice interrupted, making Eddie frown sharply. Lancelot, whose heart had been entirely captivated by Hille’s testimony, spoke with a slight tremble in his voice:

“What if she truly entered the palace, disregarding her own safety, to kill Bollonico?”

The brothers’ voices began to rise.

It was already exhausting just trying not to anger Clade and to gently comfort him into silence, but now Lancelot was showing signs of being swayed—Eddie felt darkness closing in before his eyes.

Unable to vent his frustration at Clade, he lashed out at Lancelot instead.

“Stop guessing! Just interpret what you see with your own eyes! No matter the reason, she’s someone who’s now walking a different path. She’s already crossed rivers that can never be returned from!”

Eddie shouted as if he were suffocating from frustration.

Crossed rivers that can never be returned from.

It was from that moment that tiny cracks began to appear on Clade’s otherwise rigid face.

“Shut up.”

The Rev brothers’ voices fell silent.

They drew even closer to Clade, who had spoken for the first time in ten days.

“I told you. I understand that woman.”

Clade muttered, as if talking to himself, sorting through the tangled thoughts that had overwhelmed his mind during the return journey.

His face showed no sign of seeking agreement or trying to persuade anyone—it remained hard and cold.

“She might have left because she was ill, just as the doctor said.”

Clade paused briefly, lips twitching before he finally spoke.

“If the only one who knew Yuan Pelliese was ill was that damn doctor. If no one else cared. And if she looked through the old ledgers and realized how desperately poor we were—understood that there was absolutely no way to treat any illness here—then any sane person would have tried to leave.”

“Clade……”

“Yeah, leaving was the right thing to do. But.”

Only the sound of hooves galloping through the white forest broke the silence. After a long while, Clade’s lips slowly parted once more.

“If she didn’t leave to survive… but to kill that bastard Bollonico—.”

His parched lips clamped shut. His eyes, sharpened even more over the past few days, stared straight ahead as if Yuan Pelliese herself stood before him.

Yuan Pelliese didn’t know Clade Euphris was a Sword Master.

She didn’t know the obvious fact that Bollonico could be killed with just a flick of Clade’s finger.

If Hille’s guess was correct, then that was precisely why she went—to kill.

Because in her mind, Clade Euphris had always been a weak, sickly man.

“She didn’t trust me. Didn’t believe I was someone who could survive.”

And so, to that island……

No more sound came from Clade’s mouth.

His face, once resembling a wax doll, twisted as if crushed violently by someone’s hands.

The heart he had barely managed to harden shattered once more, trampled again.

Calm as a still night sea, his eyes began to churn with growing waves.

She was truly a woman who made him miserable to the very end.

A woman who reduced him, until the very end, to the most powerless man in the world.

Just like when she showed him an estate with nothing worth seeing.

Just like when she said it was hard to survive in barren, poor, desolate places.

He wanted to meet Yuan Pelliese right then and shout at her.

Why did she make him suffer like this?

How far did she intend to push him to anger?

Clade repeatedly rubbed his own cheek with one hand.

The sudden surge of rage seemed to subside, if only temporarily.

As Eddie and Rev said—meeting her now wouldn’t change anything anyway.

Whether Hille’s words were true or not. They had crossed countless rivers that could never be returned from. There were far too many reasons why they should never meet again.

Since she had willfully become Bollonico’s woman, Yuan Pelliese had chosen a path completely opposite to his.

No matter her reasons, he had to walk his own path.

Because that was the path he was meant to take. He must not believe words like Hille’s—even if they were true.

He had to.

But.

“You’re someone who couldn’t even stand by and watch a single rat die, always driving them away.”

As they neared the manor, painful memories he never wanted to recall again resurfaced.

“Your Highness, Oliver is very sick.”

“They say he’s old—dying now wouldn’t be surprising.”

“Oliver is trying to leave the manor now.”

His face, bathed in the sunset, twisted in pain.

……Was it truly a fatal illness?

Did he know he was dying and chose to leave on his own?

When he had no choice but to let Oliver go.

When he could do nothing but stand by the window and watch his retreating back. What had he said to the woman then?

“That dog doesn’t want me to see him die.”

“There are deaths like that too.”

A low chuckle escaped his twisted lips.

Their relationship had already been completely broken.

“Your Highness, do you love me?”

He laughed, a mad, hollow chuckle.

What on earth had she expected?

Did she still expect something from him after seeing the pitiful end of his family—those who had waited in a corner of the manor only for their master to call, and ultimately died without even sharing his final moments?

“Can we… be like other people? Like an ordinary couple… Can we truly love each other?”

Love?

His shoulders shook again.

There was no way he could ever love.

Not in a place where everyone he loved had died.

Not while still breathing under the same sky as the monster who claimed that everyone she loved would die.

How could Clade Euphris ever love?

She was a fool searching for a single beautiful flower in a barren wasteland.

He had nothing to give.

She didn’t know that no matter how he polished and reshaped this twisted emotion he held for her, he could never call it by the name of ‘love’.

Clade violently severed and cut away the countless memories surfacing in his mind.

Shaking his head, suppressing his ragged breath with each passing moment.

Each time his hardened face cracked, he managed to piece it back together again.

That was enough. Just as he had done until now. Just as he had sent her away before.

As if there had never been anything at all……

Since their relationship had been broken from the start, from now on, not even the slightest trace of lingering attachment……

Just as he steeled his heart and lifted his head.

His eyes, which had briefly twisted in an attempt to regain composure, froze stiff and locked straight ahead. He became as still as someone who had forgotten how to breathe.

Lancelot instinctively tightened his grip on the reins, following Clade’s black horse that had abruptly stopped.

Then, following Clade who showed no intention of moving forward, he turned his gaze toward the black manor.

Soon.

He too stared blankly at the manor, unable to blink, just like Clade.

A strange shiver ran down his spine.

“…C-Clade.”

The manor, once like a charred lump of coal with nothing but ash remaining, had completely changed.

The vines they thought had been completely cut away and trampled into oblivion had stubbornly sprouted anew, crawling densely up the massive manor’s dark outer walls, unfurling leaves as they climbed.

Starting from the only red wing of the manor, a wave of green spread outward, covering the entire main building.

The sight of the vast manor, nearly entirely cloaked in green as if wearing camouflage, was so awe-inspiring it bordered on terrifying.

An immense silence pressed down upon the group.

Lancelot watched as Clade, who had been staring at the dramatically changed scene, gradually began to collapse.

Clade’s back, previously stiff as if struck by lightning, trembled.

An overwhelming surge of green flooded into his eyes—pools of deep purple that held no light.

A storm raged within his gaze.

The massive wave before him crashed over Clade, freezing him in place.

Facing that wave head-on, Clade dared not even think of escaping—it shattered him into pieces.

As he broke apart, he realized.

That very scene—the relentless green wave rising over the scorched black manor, wrapping it tightly, disgustingly, completely—could not be defined by a single word like “love.”

It was his own grotesque, twisted emotion.

The very heart that could not be cut away.

No matter how many times he destroyed it, crushed it, shattered it—

In the end, from the ruins, this clinging emotion and attachment would sprout again and again, grotesquely persistent.

An eerie sound, impossible to tell whether it was laughter or crying, seeped into the cold air.

Even Lancelot, overwhelmed by shock, and even Eddie, who had never stopped speaking—

Could do nothing but stare at the retreating back of Clade Euphris, turning his horse and galloping back the way they had come.

Before the once-black, now green-drenched manor, which had once been the very embodiment of Clade Euphris.

Only the song of the vines, ceaselessly striking the outer walls even in the faintest breeze,

Drifted through the space where Clade Euphris had vanished, leaving not even a shell behind.

– Part 2. From the End of the Broken Remnants. Complete.