Ileon Gredrick smiled brightly, confident in his victory.

It was precisely at the moment Ileon raised his sword to strike Dietrich Calypso’s throat that an intense hyacinth fragrance, impossible in the midst of war, suddenly filled the air.

A distant floral scent enveloped Ileon.

The overwhelming aroma tightened Ileon’s eyes as if he were suffocating to death.

The fragrance drifting toward him bore an uncanny resemblance to a princess he knew well.

The tragic princess whose kingdom burned to ashes by his own hand—Anastasia.

She held endless darkness within her, yet never broke.

She was the woman who killed the Emperor with her delicate hands and then smiled sweetly at him.

When she realized it was he who destroyed her kingdom, she no longer smiled at him that way.

Whenever she looked at him with eyes tangled in hatred and contempt, strangely, his chest would sting.

Ironically, human emotions were so changeable that even Ileon never expected curiosity to blossom into affection, and affection into obsession.

Ileon slowly turned his gaze toward the source of the hyacinth scent.

This gave Dietrich Calypso enough time to pick up the dropped sword.

The instant Ileon’s eyes shifted away, Dietrich snatched up the blade and pierced Ileon’s heart in one swift motion.

The pristine white armor Ileon wore shattered brutally as the sharp blade pierced through his heart.

“Gurgle!”

Blood surged from Ileon’s mouth.

Even as blood poured from his lips, Ileon’s gaze remained fixed not on Dietrich who had stabbed him, but on a single point.

Among the ranks of the Black Legion—creatures who would do nothing without his command—stood a knight wearing ill-fitting royal knight armor and helmet, staring directly at him.

Ileon recognized that knight at a glance.

The emerald-green eyes visible through the visor never lost their light, no matter the circumstances.

It was the same now.

He had expected her to hide inside the mansion, yet here she was, stepping forward in person to kill him.

Celia Brillion stared at Ileon with a face twisted in resentment, emitting an even stronger floral fragrance.

Overpowered by the intense scent, Ileon lifted the corner of his lips into a smile.

Ileon realized he had already lost.

He was fated to die.

The moment he had opened his heart to the princess.

Overcome by the excruciating pain of being pierced, the sword in Ileon’s hand tumbled onto the dirt ground.

Gasping heavily, Ileon still stared at Celia without blinking.

As if he wanted to keep her in his sight until his final breath.

When Dietrich withdrew the blade, Ileon’s body, having lost its balance, collapsed limply to the ground.

Celia Brillion stepped closer to Ileon.

She looked down at Ileon, groaning as he lay at her feet, then removed and threw aside her helmet.

Bright sunlight settled upon Celia’s silver hair.

Ileon struggled to force open his eyes, which kept fluttering shut.

His arm trembled violently, as if his body could no longer obey his will.

Celia bent down, bringing her eyes level with Ileon’s.

Her entire figure filled Ileon’s fading blue eyes.

Ileon’s lips trembled repeatedly, as if he had something he wanted to say to Celia.

But all that came from between his teeth was a metallic, blood-laced rattle.

“…….”

Ileon tightly sealed his lips, instead stretching out a trembling hand toward Celia.

Yet his hand never reached her.

Ileon’s eyes closed completely, and his hand dropped lifelessly to the ground.

At the same moment, the Black Legion he had brought with him dissolved away like desert sand.

“Ahh!”

Celia’s body swayed belatedly, as if from having poured every ounce of her supernatural power.

Dietrich Calypso instantly caught the staggering Celia in his arms.

“Are you alright?”

Celia, cradled against Dietrich’s chest, nodded.

“……I’m fine. What about Ileon?”

Dietrich supported Celia and closely examined Ileon’s fallen body at his feet.

“He’s dead.”

Hearing that, Celia exhaled in relief.

“Truly… it’s really over, isn’t it?”

“It’s all over.”

It had been an incredibly difficult journey.

With the tension finally gone, Celia pulled Dietrich into a tight embrace.

“You nearly died, if it weren’t for me. You know that?”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean ‘yes’? You’re supposed to say, ‘There’s no way I’d die in a situation like this.'”

Chastised by Celia, Dietrich smiled gently.

“Maaniiiieeee!”

Just then, someone came sprinting frantically from the mansion, shouting at the top of their lungs.

“Maaniiiieeee!”

The person who arrived breathlessly, wearing no armor and holding only a single sword, was none other than Sir Anderson.

Perched steadily on top of Sir Anderson’s head was Popo, balancing himself with ease.

“My lady! When you suddenly disappeared, do you know how much I—”

Sir Anderson’s voice trailed off. The army that had tightly surrounded the mansion had vanished completely.

Sir Anderson looked around in disbelief, his gaze finally falling upon Ileon’s corpse rolling in the dirt.

“……What on earth…….”

Before Sir Anderson could fully react, Dietrich suddenly lifted Celia into his arms.

Dietrich gently asked Celia, whose arms were wrapped around his neck, in a tender voice:

“I want to name our new nation after you. What do you think?”

“What name?”

“Anastasia.”

Celia Brillion’s eyes widened as she heard her true name spoken aloud.

Dietrich had known her real name all along, yet always called her Celia.

“Let’s name the new nation Anastasia—after my princess, the one I love most in this world.”

Dietrich smiled warmly at Celia, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Celia realized then that Dietrich had been saving her name for this very moment.

All the knots that had weighed heavily on her heart suddenly dissolved with just those words.

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

Though Ileon was dead, there were still many matters to settle.

To declare the founding of a new nation after destroying the great empire of Abelon, they needed not only legitimacy but also the support of the people.

While Ileon’s crimes provided sufficient justification, earning the people’s support was a separate challenge.

At this moment, Balt Portman stepped forward.

“I, Balt Portman, stand in support of establishing a new nation—even if it means tearing apart this rotten Abelon. The Emperor, Ileon Gredrick Basilisk, mercilessly slaughtered countless people. He deserved to fall. That’s what I say.”

These were the words of Balt Portman, the most powerful man in Abelon now that the two dukes—pillars of the empire—were dead.

“Why cling to a collapsing Abelon forever?”

People feared Balt, yet they couldn’t immediately accept such sudden change.

An elderly elder from the Portman Dukedom voiced his opinion.

“My lord, Abelon is a great empire. Even if the late Emperor committed grave errors, changing the name of Abelon is tantamount to declaring its destruction, is it not? If only the royal knight commander, whose origins are unknown, hadn’t been manipulated by the witch Celia Brillion into rebellion……!”

“Hey, old fool. Are you still believing that ridiculous rumor?”

Balt chuckled mockingly.

“Witch? That woman is no witch—she is royalty. And so is Dietrich.”

Balt’s words spread like a snowball across the entire Abelon Empire.

One’s origins couldn’t simply be changed at will.

But royalty?

The majority of the exhausted people now clung to the hope that even if Abelon fell, changing the nation’s name might bring a better life.

Those who had been imprisoned for calling Celia Brillion a witch were released after signing sworn statements never to utter such words again.

“I thought I’d die trapped in that prison…….”

Emerging from jail with haggard faces, they laughed weakly under the dazzling sunlight they hadn’t seen in so long.

“But how did we even start calling her a witch? Who started that baseless rumor?”

People looked at each other, bewildered.

The one who first spread the rumor—Lady Reina Gredrick—had become monster fodder, and members of the Brillion family, including Gabriel Brillion, had died with their limbs torn apart by Ileon’s blade. There was no way they could find answers among themselves.

There were still men who coveted the ever-beautiful Celia Brillion, but the situation had changed drastically from when she lived at the viscount’s estate.

When it was revealed that Celia was in fact a princess of the kingdom, the men who had desired her now wailed and beat the ground in despair.

Desiring Celia was like reaching for something forever out of reach.

Even the women of marriageable age, who had long envied her, no longer felt jealousy.

People say they slander someone ten times better than themselves, and fear someone a hundred times better.

They had thought she was nothing special beyond her beauty, but she was actually a princess from the fallen Shan Kingdom.

“They deliberately had the Brillion Viscount’s family host a public courtship event to increase their wealth, putting her on display for men?”

“What terrible people. She must have suffered terribly being forced to entertain those men.”

“And weren’t they the ones who led the charge in calling her a witch?”

“May they receive divine punishment. They’ve surely gone to hell.”

The rumor that Celia Brillion was a witch vanished as if it had never existed. Instead, public sentiment turned sympathetic toward her.

The princess of a fallen kingdom.

A pitiful, beautiful princess caught in endless rumors and tragedies.

“……But, what was her name during the time she was a princess?”