The Princess Wants to Live (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 7
Cryer’s pronunciation was muffled because his lips were pressed shut.
Olivia bit her lip as she firmly pressed the crooked corners of his mouth with her fingertips.
“Don’t make that face.”
“What?”
“You’re the most important one! You started this war, and you’ll be the one to end it! Whether you’re a slave or an ancient god—you! You!”
Olivia’s trembling fingertips, which had been pressing Cryer’s lips, brushed against his lower lip and abruptly fell away.
After swallowing her breath in silence for a long while, Olivia finally heard Cryer speak.
“It’s all my fault….”
“No!”
As Olivia shook her head, her fiery red hair rippled like flickering flames.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, then opened them and stared straight at him.
“There must be a reason you were chosen for the slave contract. If it were merely about borrowing the power of an ancient god, that mage could have made the contract himself! But he didn’t. He specifically chose you—the one who would carry out the contract. Didn’t you say you died and came back to life?”
“Even before my resurrection, I was just a knight.”
“Anything else you remember?”
Cryer didn’t answer Olivia’s question.
He couldn’t.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
“…I see. Right. I don’t….”
“We’ll break the slave contract. No—we will break it. Whether we find your past or even if the key turns out to be something else entirely!”
Cryer traced the mark branded onto his collarbone.
Every fragmented memory that surfaced was from the moment the brand was seared onto him.
The mage had prepared the brand, but it was his daughter who actually placed it upon him.
‘…Ere. The chosen… together….’
And once more, Olivia’s hand overlapped his on the back of his hand.
She didn’t know why he kept touching that spot.
Yet, whenever he touched his collarbone, the chilling emptiness in his eyes made her reach out without even realizing it.
Gripping his hand so tightly her knuckles turned white, Olivia locked eyes with him.
“I will survive. So you won’t be able to start a war, nor stain your hands with the blood of the whole world.”
Meeting Olivia’s eyes—burning like blue flames—Cryer’s pitch-black eyes, darker than night itself, took in the tiniest fragments, so small even he was unaware of them.
Fragments of something he couldn’t yet voice: the faintest crumbs of hope.
Night’s veil had fallen, and the sky, shrouded in thick clouds, offered only a faint glimmer of moonlight.
Beneath a massive tree where an owl’s eyes glinted as it wandered at dawn, someone feverishly dug into the earth.
Thud. Thud-thud.
The one recklessly gouging clumps of soil wasn’t using a shovel or any tool—it was bare hands.
He dug and dug, like a man driven mad.
Thankfully, this was on the outskirts of the imperial capital, in a place almost devoid of people…..
“Huh… huuuh… huk-huk.”
His wild, ragged breaths and unblinking, frenzied digging created a grotesque spectacle.
Anyone who saw him would have screamed and fled before even thinking to summon the guards.
How long had he kept digging like this?
Eventually, the hole he’d carved into the earth became just deep enough to bury a person.
The man’s hands suddenly stilled.
He stared blankly at the black earth, then slowly lifted his gaze to the even darker sky above.
His hands were caked in black mud, several fingernails torn off and bleeding, his clothes tattered beyond repair.
How much longer did he remain staring not at the ground, but at the sky?
Zreee.
Flap-flap.
The distant chirping of an unknown insect sounded, followed immediately by the owl taking flight—silencing the insect in an instant.
The man’s fingers twitched.
Turning his creaking neck like something inhuman, he looked toward the unseen spot where the insect had just died.
Finally, his mouth stretched wide—a gash running all the way to his ear.
It looked like a smile, but he was crying.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, stained thickly with dried, dark-red blotches that refused to fade.
From his gaping mouth came a voice like a sob.
“Mercy, O God, have mercy.”
The man muttered incessantly, genuinely begging for mercy.
It was just that the “god” he sought wasn’t one of the many gods worshipped across the continent.
His god was an ancient deity said to have existed on the continent since time immemorial.
No proper form or even a name had been passed down—only the knowledge that this god was far more powerful than the gods currently revered.
And the man needed that power.
Desperately.
“O God.”
Perhaps in response to the nameless god’s caller…
Flap.
As the owl took flight once more, the moon, briefly hidden behind clouds, revealed its face. Moonlight spilled around the man, who prayed with devout sincerity.
A gaping hole, reeking of damp earth.
And beside it, a human lying on his side.
No—a corpse.
In the pitch-black darkness that had obscured everything, the man’s face, now illuminated, shone with rapture.
“Ah, O God.”
He pressed his forehead into the dirt, crying out to his god again and again, countless times.
And the moment the moon slipped back behind the clouds,
The man jerked his head up—his eyeballs rolling unnaturally in their sockets. Crawling spider-like over the edge of the pit, he reached toward the corpse.
His claw-like hand seized the corpse’s clothing, yanking it into the hole.
Staring down at the corpse, the man murmured wistfully,
“Just a little more.”
Just a little—truly, just a little more.
Only a few more offerings were needed to complete the ritual for his god!
It was a fierce wind—no, a violent gale.
But wind was just wind.
The man himself knew better than anyone that his hunt for sacrifices had reached its limit.
Dozens had already been offered by his hand as sacrifices.
Now, rumors surrounding the area where he’d captured his victims had grown so ominous that, unless he bought someone outright, finding another sacrifice would be nearly impossible.
“This won’t be enough, will it.”
A dried flake of blood fell from his fingers as he fiddled with the trinkets he’d stripped from the corpse, scratching his ear with a rustling sound.
“But the god will always show me the way.”
Soon, the man slowly scraped off the dried blood caked onto his own face and began humming a tune.
“Hmm, hm-hm, hm-hm-hm.”
Despite the grotesque scene—enough to make one retch—a light, cheerful tune, like a springtime stroll, rang through the bloody night.
Some time had passed since the sudden continental summit concluded.
Yet rumors showed no sign of dying down—that the Empire’s sole princess had fallen for a nameless knight of the Norden Kingdom at the summit and decided to keep him by her side.
On the contrary….
“Someone with a similar face might be found.”
“Find him! Just get someone who looks similar and place him where Her Highness will notice!”
Some sought knights resembling Cryer just to catch the princess’s eye even once.
“What’s his name again? No, the name isn’t important. Go right now and find out everything about that knight—especially what he likes!”
Others moved to win Cryer’s favor, hoping it would bring them into Olivia’s good graces.
Naturally, within the imperial palace itself, foreign men styling themselves as ‘knights’ scrambled to capture Olivia’s attention.
“Could you perhaps tell me the route Her Highness usually takes for her walks?”
A man whose good looks drew admiring gasps from onlookers flashed a brilliant smile, revealing white teeth. Though his expression oozed confidence, he rambled on with excuses even before being asked.
“The path Her Highness walks must surely be the most beautiful and wondrous—I’d absolutely love to stroll there if I go for a walk.”
The blond knight said this while casting his most confident smile at the servant.
The servant blinked up at him, and the knight leaned in slightly closer.
“I have no other motive. I genuinely just want to take a walk.”
His honeyed voice, whispering right by her ear, made the servant’s cheeks flush—and the knight was sure of his answer.
But what came back was entirely unexpected.
“Come with me.”
Though he heard the reply, the blond knight could only blink in confusion.
“Let’s go! For a walk!”
The servant of the imperial palace—more precisely, the princess’s palace—exclaimed with radiant cheer. In fact, she didn’t just shout; she grabbed the knight’s sleeve and tugged him vigorously.
“W-why are you…?”
The flustered knight took a step back, but the servant closed the distance just as much and beamed even brighter.
“You said you wanted to take a walk, didn’t you? ‘Just a hint’? No need—I’ll personally escort you along the very path Her Highness adores.”
Rendering the knight speechless, the servant pulled him forcefully—and similar scenes played out all across the palace.
From Olivia’s walking routes to her favorite foods, preferred music, and favored artworks—
Foreign men posing as knights scrambled desperately, hoping to grasp even one detail.
All to win a sliver of the princess’s attention and claim the seat beside her.
It was a fierce contest—akin to brutal combat, swords aside.
While the blond knight was being awkwardly dragged along the walking path by the servant,
“Hmm, yes.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Good. Keep doing exactly this.”
As Olivia nodded, the servant bowed deeply and vanished.
She began neatly stacking the documents detailing the current state of affairs, line by line.
The sheer volume was immense—covering not only matters within the Empire but also general intelligence from foreign nations.
Yet Olivia showed no sign of displeasure; instead, with an expression of quiet pride, she swiftly skimmed through each document.
Having died four times in the continental war and returned through reincarnation, she’d learned one crucial lesson: the value of information.
She’d never imagined, before her first death, that she’d come to grasp so deeply the Bolshayk family motto passed down through generations: “Knowledge is power.”
“I’ve never seen anyone enjoy their work so much.”
Olivia’s hand, flipping through the documents, paused at the low, resonant voice echoing from a few steps away—like a sound rising from a deep cavern.
Her eyes, gazing at Cryer as he sat leisurely polishing his sword hilt, shimmered with indescribable emotion.
And understandably so—before her reincarnations, Olivia hadn’t taken pleasure in work like ordinary people.
Even now, aside from gathering and analyzing information, she did everything merely out of necessity.
It was simply that having died not once, but four times by this man’s hand, she now found herself naturally enjoying anything tied to survival.
“…Princess? Princess?”
My Arch-enemy Sealed My Memory and Said That He is My Husband
This is an incredibly captivating story that you absolutely shouldn’t miss! I’ll give a brief introduction here, and below you’ll find a detailed synopsis of the plot.
The female lead is a fierce and powerful demon king. The male lead is a once-in-a-millennium celestial lord, admired by the entire cultivation world.
They are equally matched, legendary rivals who have battled for centuries.
In the final duel, the female lead is gravely injured. The male lead saves her, seals her memories, and hides her true identity. He tells her that he is her fiancé. His entire life has been flawless—except for the one thing he never expected, never controlled, and never wanted to control: falling for his greatest enemy. She is his inner demon, his obsession.
When the female lead regains her memories, she is furious at his deception.
She makes his life a living hell.
And somehow, the male lead—possibly a total masochist—doesn’t mind at all. In fact, he’s happy she’s paying attention to him.
Yep, we’re back to my favorite trope: male lead suffering. If you love this kind of story, jump into the pit with me now!!!
Intro
Dong Xia lost her memory.
Her handsome and extremely powerful fiancé Li Qing comforted her: “It’s okay if you can’t remember. I’ll always be with you.”
Everyone thought Dong Xia’s ancestors must have burned incense to get such a perfect fiancé. He was the number one person in the immortal realm, yet he remained chaste and only loved her.
…
The day before marrying her fiancé, Dong Xia finally remembered everything.
She wasn’t suffering from memory loss at all.
Her arch-enemy had made her fake her death, destroyed her cultivation, replaced her memories, and pretended to be her deeply in love fiancé.
No wonder he said, “It’s okay if you can’t remember”!
Dong Xia laughed coldly as she pulled out her long knife: Li Qing, prepare to die 🙂
*
Li Qing, as the supreme being of the immortal realm, was the people’s shining beacon.
The only unknown stain in his life was his affection for Dong Xia, the ruler of the demon realm.
In the final battle of the war between immortals and demons, the sky collapsed and the earth shattered. The ruler of the demon realm was finally slain under the sword of the supreme being of the immortal realm, and everyone in the immortal realm applauded.
The cultivation world lost a ruler of the demon realm.
And in the back mountain of Li Qing’s cave dwelling, he secretly hid away a fiancée.
Notes:
1. The female lead is white on the outside, black on the inside, and the queen of flattery; the male lead repeatedly tests the edge of darkness, a VIP guest at the crematorium.
2. Fantasy cultivation world setting.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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