191. The Sovereign of Suffering

2024.04.08.

Yuan lifted her head.

Tears continued to stream down her wet cheeks, but the light in her eyes sparkled brighter than ever before.

Around her, only the sound of wind and the cries of a red bird could be heard.

After enduring an endless silence, Yuan heard a faint sound resembling low laughter and widened her eyes.

A neutral voice whispered softly, “Yes, that is what foolishness is.”

“Never forget, Sovereign of Suffering.”

Her heart felt like it would burst. The whirlwind surrounding her now coiled tightly around her, leaving no chance of escape.

“If you gain something, you must also lose something. Always remember that every wish comes with a price. And…”

The wind pushed her away from the snowy mountain, in the opposite direction. Yuan took step after step as if being propelled forward.

“Act.”

Her foot, moving in the opposite direction of countless footprints, paused briefly.

Yuan turned her head and filled her vision with the snowy mountain, which stirred an inexplicable sense of longing.

If she left like this, would she ever have another chance to see Louise again?

At that moment.

A small, warm hand gently yet firmly pushed against her back.

***

Her eyes snapped open as if abruptly awakened by someone.

Instead of intense sunlight, deep darkness and a soft glow gently caressed her retina.

Yuan blinked her dry, stiff eyes and rolled her pupils to survey the surroundings.

It was the same white scenery she had seen before death, yet she could hardly feel any cold.

Only then did she realize that night had long settled here, and several large bonfires blazing right beside her had dispelled all sense of chill.

And also that she was being held in someone’s arms like a baby.

“Don’t die….”

A voice, dry and rough like rolling sand grains, seeped into her abdomen.

Yuan looked down at the blond head buried against her chest, murmuring the same words over and over like a madman.

Black eyes quickly filled with tears.

Her lips, untouched by firelight, seemed frozen shut and wouldn’t open properly.

Even in that brief moment, the blond man kept whispering the same words.

“Don’t die….”

Her entire body felt tightly bound, so Yuan shook herself violently.

The man, who had been rubbing his forehead against her chest, froze abruptly.

“…Lad.”

His head slowly lifted. Beneath disheveled blond hair, she saw the man’s eyes, utterly broken and devastated.

His bloodshot, wet eyes trembled violently.

The dull, fake-jewel-like eyes that had lost their light gradually regained the color she had always coveted.

From the man’s gaping mouth, silence spilled out instead of a voice.

“I kept my promise.”

Yuan forced her lips into a smile and shook her wrist, which he was clutching as if afraid to let go.

“I promised you, don’t you remember? I said I’d never die in front of you… I…”

With each word she spoke, his crumpled face finally twisted completely.

Clade urgently pulled her into his arms.

Even though he was already holding her, he acted as if he could not allow even the smallest gap between them.

His sobs poured out against her shoulder—panting, desperate, not knowing what to do.

Surprised by Clade’s sobbing, something she had never heard in her life, Yuan briefly paused. Then, realizing the miracle before her, she embraced Clade in return—colder than her revived self, yet alive.

She looked at the snow piled carelessly on his firm shoulder, touching her cheek.

Had he remembered her saying she disliked snow?

She imagined the time when, even while collapsing into despair, he had not allowed a single snowflake to fall upon her.

The man who did nothing but pant and cry, his trembling shoulders—Yuan kept brushing the accumulating snow off them and held him even tighter.

“You told me you loved me, so I couldn’t leave. I wanted to live beside the one I love.”

The trembling shoulders stilled. Yuan smiled faintly at the man as he revealed his tear-soaked face.

“Now I understand.”

“I….”

“Clade Euphris’s ‘don’t die’… means ‘I love you’….”

“I….”

“I realized that far too late.”

“I….”

“But say it once more. I won’t die.”

Her lips, which had been trembling as if afraid this dream might vanish, suddenly pressed firmly together.

Unease flickered in her shimmering eyes.

But seeing Yuan’s face—alive, crying, yet simultaneously smiling—her lips opened before her mind could catch up.

“…I love you.”

A faint smile spread across Yuan’s lips. Clade seemed to suddenly snap back to reality and urgently pulled her into his arms again.

Afraid she might disappear, he tightened his arms around her, lowered his voice so no one else could hear, and whispered into her ear.

Though his body trembled beyond his control, he strained every nerve to keep his voice steady.

“Yuan, I love you.”

Her damp lips quivered several times before swallowing her bloodless lips.

Warm and soft. The lips of a living person met hers.

Beneath fluttering golden eyelashes, a delicate tear slipped down.

“I love you so much….”

The curse that had weighed upon her heart for over a decade was finally, completely vanishing.

***

The banished prince and his wife returned to the heavily guarded estate on the very night they had fallen from the cliff.

In the grand reception hall shrouded in deep darkness just before dawn, the Empress, Noel, and nobles representing each territory waited fully armed, anticipating accurate news.

“Yuan…!”

“Y-Y-Yuan! T-Tongue, Brother!”

When Yuan appeared, cradled in the perfectly alive Clade’s arms, the gathered people’s eyes widened in shock.

It was astonishing enough that both had returned alive just one day after falling off a cliff, but rumors had already spread throughout the estate that Yuan had been struck by the Emperor’s sword, causing some to murmur uneasily.

Noel tried hard to maintain a stern expression but instantly reverted to his usual self upon seeing Yuan, while Tasha, who rarely cried, buried her face in a handkerchief.

Eugene Kimfri, severely injured, also flinched from a corner of the reception hall, his entire body wrapped in bandages.

Before Empress Marilyn could speak to the banished royal couple, Yuan spoke first.

“Where is His Imperial Majesty?”

Solen Racha quietly approached and reported, cautiously gauging the Empress’s and his father’s expressions.

Emperor Igor was awaiting judgment in the underground prison.

He added that due to the sword Clade had thrown at the Emperor before jumping, the Emperor had suffered a severe wound to his side, making escape impossible even if he attempted to flee.

Yuan stepped down from Clade’s arms and silently surveyed the surroundings.

“May I have a brief conversation with His Imperial Majesty?”

She showed the sword in her hand to the tense crowd.

It was the one Hile had drawn for her, despite his injured body bringing him to her and Clade.

“I have something to return.”

***

Although everyone in the estate had ultimately participated in the rebellion, they could not bring themselves to execute the Emperor.

Perhaps the moment Clade Euphris, the leader of the rebels who might inherit the next throne, returned alive and unharmed, the North acknowledged a new power and withdrew, while Grand Duke Drietter and the South breathed a sigh of relief.

What came next was obvious.

If Clade, who had instigated the rebellion, executed the Emperor now, the nation would face some chaos but would inevitably welcome a new Emperor.

The people gathered in the reception hall headed down to the underground prison to witness the Emperor’s end.

Hile, recalling the moment his hand had drawn the black sword and the wound had instantly sealed shut—something he had never seen before—walked forward with trembling steps.

Such a rare phenomenon was utterly unprecedented.

Moreover, the sword once known as the Emperor’s black blade had lost its color and turned into an ordinary sword.

Yuan walked with Clade toward the prison where the Emperor awaited.

The Emperor, pressed tightly against the bars, greeted Yuan with bright eyes.

Seeing Yuan walk toward him alive and unharmed, he grew so excited that he violently shook the bars and chuckled lowly.

Clade frowned and stepped in front of her, but Yuan quietly pulled him aside and positioned him behind her.

At this, the Emperor shook the bars even more violently.

“Khehehe… Yes, yes. Come here.”

Grunting breaths crawled across the cold prison floor.

The Emperor’s icy blue eyes shifted from Yuan to the hilt of the sword hanging at her side.

Before Clade could speak again, Yuan stepped forward.

Her thick, tangled blond hair, the familiar filthy mouth stretched wide at both ends beneath gleaming blue eyes.

“Give me back my treasure.”

The Emperor’s eyes remained fixed obsessively on the sword hilt. A thick hand thrust through the bars, waving wildly in the air.

“Just return my sword, and I’ll leave without another word!”

His bloodshot, gleaming eyes were no longer those of a sane man.

Clade flinched and lunged forward.

But she did not step back—after being carried back to the estate in Clade’s arms, the question that had haunted her finally seemed to find its answer.

“If you gain something, you lose something. Always remember that every wish has a price.”

Yuan felt, just as the voice had said, that she had become the “Sovereign of Suffering.”

The force that had fought her in midair was likely the suffering the black sword had absorbed over long years alongside successive Emperors.

The black sword had greedily tried to devour her strength and suffering, but in terms of absorption ability, Yuan seemed to have surpassed it.

Though it had inflicted terrible pain upon her, in the end, it was entirely absorbed by her.

The divided power was now complete.

Therefore, that mysterious voice had called her the first to absorb all abilities.

Then she had indeed “gained” that power.

What she had nearly lost was her life. But the voice had given her a chance.

“Act.”

What? What exactly was she supposed to act upon? How was it connected to what she would lose? What if not acting meant she would die again soon? As Yuan grew anxious, a sudden thought struck her.

If she were to completely lose this perfected ability, wouldn’t that be sufficient payment for her continued life?

Then why not simply pour all of this power into the demon standing before her?

“Act!”

A firm voice resonated in her chest.

Her dark eyes, shining with ecstatic clarity, stared straight into Igor’s.

The time had come for someone not of the Pelliese bloodline to possess all the Pelliese abilities.

Just as Clade had once done.