The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 6
Following Cryer’s gaze, Olivia found at its end knights standing solemnly in neat rows, along with others similar to them.
Heads of state—including kings and prime ministers from various nations—were already nodding in approval a few steps away, gazing at their imposing figures.
“If only they’d move with such unity during the continental war… Ugh.”
Olivia heaved a deep sigh filled with frustration, but at least she had grasped what she’d wanted.
Even if it was merely his trouser leg….
“With this, I hereby adjourn the continental summit.”
With Olivia’s clear voice, the hastily convened continental conference for global peace concluded, leaving behind several unresolved matters.
It was Cryer’s second day staying in the empire.
Olivia had no choice but to postpone her meaningful, heart-to-heart conversation with Cryer for now.
After all, she hadn’t had a moment alone with him.
“So, the reason you gathered everyone from across the continent here is…”
“For world peace.”
“Princess.”
“Your Majesty, have I ever done anything reckless?”
Of course not. Olivia had never taken initiative before; she’d always quietly fulfilled her duties as princess without stepping beyond them.
The Emperor nodded toward Olivia, who radiated more certainty than ever.
“I trust you.”
Thus, without any proper explanation, Olivia was entrusted solely based on her confidence with all matters concerning Cryer—or more precisely, those individuals she’d brought through the continental summit.
Now that the biggest hurdle, the Emperor’s approval, was cleared, it was time to handle the smaller details.
“You there?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Prepare the vacant palaces in the western section. Arrange accommodations considering each nation’s relations.”
“Yes. I shall organize everything and report back.”
“Right now.”
“Pardon?”
“Go do it immediately. There’s no need for you to accompany me.”
Olivia dismissed her aides and attendants and walked off alone.
She didn’t need a crowd trailing behind her just to meet Cryer.
No matter how tight-lipped they might be, secrets were safest buried in the grave.
At first, she’d recklessly dragged him into a private chamber without hesitation, but now there was no need to be so brash.
“Your Highness.”
Olivia halted at the sudden appearance of a figure before her.
The man stepped boldly forward, bowing exaggeratedly with theatrical flair.
“Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve searched tirelessly for this moment—surely even the gods have witnessed my devotion.”
Olivia stared at him silently, saying nothing.
Seemingly encouraged by her silence, he exhaled slowly and then bowed again, even more absurdly and excessively than before, extending his hand.
“Might I have your permission to introduce myself?”
Olivia, who had been staring fixedly at his outstretched hand, quickly lifted her chin and straightened her spine.
A brilliantly radiant smile spread across her face, prompting him to start smiling in return—
“I refuse.”
“You see, I—… What?”
Before he could speak further, Olivia’s radiant smile deepened.
“I don’t know who you are, and I never intend to. Leave.”
Her voice, icy enough to freeze one to the bone, flowed into his ears, and suddenly the petite princess before him seemed as towering and impassable as a mountain.
Taking one step closer to his wide-eyed figure, Olivia declared,
“You shall never cross my path again.”
He opened his mouth, but his throat constricted so tightly he couldn’t utter a word, stumbling backward before fleeing from her sight altogether.
Once he vanished completely, Olivia tapped her stiff shoulders lightly.
She’d anticipated various nuisances, but she hadn’t expected someone this foolish to be among them.
Frowning at the troublesome incidents she foresaw ahead, a low voice drifted toward her from behind, gliding across the floor.
“You’re completely different from when I knew you. Truly befitting the Imperial Princess.”
Olivia spun around sharply; from behind a pillar, Cryer revealed himself.
“Well, of course. Do you really think I’d treat you the same as that stranger? And if you were watching, you should’ve helped.”
“I was about to.”
“You were?”
“But it ended too quickly and boringly. Besides, once I step in, blood has to be spilled.”
“What? Blood spilled? Then it’s a good thing you didn’t help—no, wait. That situation didn’t require spilling blood; just crippling an arm or leg would’ve sufficed. Why are you so obsessed with bloodshed?”
“You say such cruel things with the eyes of a rabbit wide open. And for the record, it’s not me who craves blood.”
Leaning slowly away from the pillar, Cryer stepped forward.
In the silent corridor bathed in afternoon light, his shadow advanced step by step, gradually enveloping Olivia’s.
When he finally stood facing her, his dark eyes churned with volcanic fury and hatred.
From the abyss within him, a low growl rumbled forth, and from between his lips emerged the name of his master.
“The one who desires enough blood to drown the entire continent is the cursed master of this contract—an ancient god.”
Around the time Olivia encountered Cryer,
in the royal palace of Norden, the Crown Prince faced Greta.
“Once you listen to me, everything will be fine.”
Greta smiled gently as she patted the Crown Prince’s head.
“Mm.”
The Crown Prince obediently nuzzled his face against her skirt like a child, and Greta affectionately stroked his hair.
“The King treated you harshly, but I won’t. There’s no need for that.”
“Gr… Greta handles things… better.”
“Yes, because I handle everything better than my father.”
Truly everything.
Be it people, magic, or contracts.
“Everything will end soon.”
“End?”
“Yes. You’ll join the embrace of the divine—along with everyone else.”
“W…Will Greta go too?”
“No. I can’t go with you.”
Greta lowered the hand that had been stroking his head and covered his eyes.
The pressure was so intense it felt like his eyeballs might burst, yet the Crown Prince offered no resistance.
Still wearing her gentle smile, Greta spoke as if singing a lullaby.
“Because I’ll remain alone with my beloved Cryer—the only two left in a purified world.”
While Greta’s gaze sought Cryer, who remained in the empire,
Olivia and Cryer moved from the corridor to a quiet spot outside.
“No one will come here.”
At Olivia’s confident words, Cryer scanned their surroundings.
“How on earth did you find a place like this?”
“From running around everywhere. There isn’t a single hidden corner in the palace I haven’t explored.”
“There must be secret chambers or passages reserved for the imperial family.”
“Oh, there are. But after watching you casually swing your sword and bring the whole thing crashing down so easily, my trust in them plummeted to near zero.”
Olivia waved her arm half-heartedly, then flipped her palm over with a sigh.
“Now that I think about it, I died in so many different ways.”
“What? Why are you suddenly drifting away?”
“It’s just… I was remembering how many times you’ve actually killed me.”
“For someone who claims that, you’ve become noticeably bolder compared to the first time… though no, you’ve always been shameless from the start.”
“If you ever come back from death yourself, you’ll realize it’s better to speak your mind and show some backbone.”
“Come back from death…”
“I’ve told you before—I died by your hand and returned to the past.”
As Olivia counted on her fingers how many times she’d returned—‘one, two, three’—she abruptly shuddered and shook her hands free.
Replaying her deaths was foolish, especially right in front of the man who’d killed her…
“Hah… hah!”
Taking a deep breath, Olivia puffed out her chest and slapped it twice firmly.
“Alright. Now, tell me—what was that command… no, that contract… that made you start the con—no, the continental war? The reason behind it.”
Though her words kept stumbling, she managed to convey the essential point.
Cryer folded his arms and leaned back against the moss-covered wall.
The cold chill seeping through the stone felt infinitely better than lukewarm warmth.
Silence fell—a quiet as ominous as the calm before a raging storm.
The refreshing breeze that occasionally brushed her cheeks grew restless, and Olivia’s lips turned blue from an inexplicable cold.
Just as a faint white puff escaped her slightly parted lips—impossibly, in this warmth—
“That contract…”
At the vibration of Cryer’s Adam’s apple, Olivia instinctively swallowed hard.
Finally—the most crucial clue to her survival!
“Wha… whaaat?”
Suddenly, her vision darkened, and her head involuntarily tilted back. Staggering, Olivia reached up to find a large hand covering her eyes.
Her smooth fingertips traveled up rough, knotted ridges for what felt like an eternity.
“What’s wrong? Why are you doing this?”
Cryer, still covering both her eyes with one hand, pushed her gently backward and spoke.
“It’s not that grand a tale—certainly not worth those shining eyes of yours.”
“What?”
Cryer removed his hand from her eyes and continued.
“A simple story: a mad mage revived a dead man to fulfill a pact with an ancient god, and the resurrected man became that god’s unwilling slave.”
His voice was as desiccated as his deeply shadowed eyes.
“That slave must now drown the world in blood and ‘purify’ it—essentially bring about global annihilation.”
Olivia’s eyelashes trembled like dandelion seeds in a faint breeze. Cryer’s lips twisted bitterly.
“How’s that? Sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it? The mad mage, the demon king, world destruction—all ripped straight from some fairy tale or novel.”
“But… but still…”
Swallowing dryly, Olivia forced her parched lips apart.
“But in those stories… the hero always… wins…”
“Right. Because those are fabricated tales. This is reality—there’s no hero. As you saw before you came back in time, I’m no demon king. Just a slave, raising blood-drenched hands in a futile roar.”
Cryer sneered. Could that even be called a roar?
It was a wail.
A scream of utter despair.
He clutched the branded collarbone—the slave’s mark—so fiercely it threatened to shatter.
No amount of tearing flesh or scraping bone could erase that indelible scar.
He wanted out.
He wanted to break free from this enslavement.
But reality offered no light—only a wall of lamentation blocking his path, impenetrable, unscalable, impossible to shatter.
When had he begun wishing not for freedom, but for an end?
Yet even that end remained invisible—a bottomless pit into which he crawled, limbs severed.
Once again, absolute silence descended between Cryer and Olivia.
The next moment.
“What… are you doing.”
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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