Trampled and Broken (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 20
A cold, icy sneer, as if holding frost itself, sharply formed at the corner of his lips.
Hestia’s eyes grew slightly more moist.
“Aslan, that’s not what I meant…”
“What about the Archdeacon? The other high priests? Are you confident you can persuade them?”
He pressed Hestia.
“…Aslan.”
Her violet eyes couldn’t bear to meet his and dropped downward.
At the same moment, a clear tear rolled down her cheek.
Seeing Hestia’s wounded expression, Aslan felt his heart sink—but he couldn’t stop his own lips from moving recklessly.
“What I need isn’t that.”
“…”
“I don’t want to persuade the king and the Archdeacon.”
It was too troublesome and would take too long.
In the meantime, his father—and the northern lands he loved—
would be swallowed by winter and monsters, devastated beyond recovery.
Gritting his teeth with a heart full of anguish, Aslan spoke firmly.
“I need the power to move them.”
Look at me, Hestia.
In a whisper, Aslan forcibly lifted Hestia’s chin, though she refused to meet his gaze.
Locking eyes directly with her, he quietly yet resolutely continued.
“That power, Hestia—you possess it.”
Hestia bit her lower lip. Her once-lovely violet eyes had darkened, now pulling him into their depths like a deep, swirling vortex.
Aslan understood why she wore such a sorrowful expression.
Just as with Yorgos and Boswaga, she believed Aslan, too, saw her only as a “tool.”
‘No. That’s not it.’
I… you…
But Aslan dared not deny it. He couldn’t. At this point, any denial would only be a cowardly excuse.
After all, he had indeed intended to use Hestia.
‘It’s irreversible.’
Her short nails dug firmly into his strong palm.
“Just help me once. Say you received a divine oracle commanding you to aid the North. Then His Majesty the King will surely support the North.”
That was the way to save everyone.
“Just those few words… please.”
Aslan’s plea trembled and grew fainter, like a candle flickering out.
“Say that the gods commanded you to aid the North—to aid my father… Duke Kalati… Please. Please…”
At some point—he couldn’t recall when—
Aslan’s head, his gaze… had dropped to the ground.
His large hands, unable to reach out to Hestia, tightly twisted a withered clump of grass instead.
“I’m begging you, Hestia.”
Save the North—save my Kalati.
If you do this for me, I’ll serve you as your servant for life, repaying your kindness.
I’ll give you my entire life…
No—because it’s already yours…
So please.
Aslan held his breath, pressing all his feelings deep inside with desperate longing.
Meanwhile, everything felt utterly unfamiliar to Hestia.
The Aslan who seemed as though he’d never kneel, even if heaven and earth collapsed into an abyss, now bowed his head at her feet—so unreal it defied belief.
Fear surged within her.
Instinctively, without even realizing it, Hestia shrank back, putting distance between herself and Aslan kneeling on the ground.
She tightly clasped her trembling hands together, but the shaking wouldn’t stop.
Hestia tried repeatedly to speak, parting her lips again and again—but no words came out.
‘What should I say?’
She couldn’t utter words of agreement, promising a false oracle for his sake—nor could she bring herself to refuse.
Her violet eyes wavered helplessly, dangerously unsteady.
She wanted to look at Aslan’s face, yet dreaded meeting his golden eyes pleading with her.
Overwhelming fear engulfed her.
‘I don’t know.’
She just wanted to flee this place.
“…I’m sorry.”
She turned away and walked off, distancing herself from Aslan.
“Hestia!”
She heard Aslan’s voice calling after her, raw with desperate longing—but Hestia didn’t look back.
[This is the timeline separator]Several days passed.
Hestia apparently returned straight to the temple and never came to see Aslan again.
Even on the day he was supposed to depart for the North with Dean and Martin, Aslan couldn’t let go of his lingering attachment to her, delaying his departure until the very last moment while staying in the palace.
“My lord, it’s time to leave.”
“Or… is there perhaps someone you’re waiting for?”
“…No. Nothing like that.”
Aslan feigned ignorance and clenched his teeth.
Until the day of departure, neither Yorgos nor the temple had reached a firm decision regarding support for the North.
At the council, opinions were sharply divided—some insisted the North must be supported, others argued it was impossible—and no conclusion could be reached. Thus, Aslan had no choice but to return to the North first.
Just as the three men were about to leave the palace—
“Wait!”
A royal messenger from Yorgos hurried over and stopped Aslan and his companions.
“The Saintess has received a new oracle.”
Aslan caught his breath, his breathing halting.
An oracle! So Hestia had agreed to hear him out after all.
His breath quickened, and hope rapidly filled a corner of his heart.
His large, sweaty palms clenched tightly, grasping for something solid.
“I shall now relay the contents of the oracle.”
The messenger cleared his throat and continued.
Aslan exchanged glances with Dean and Martin, then held his breath.
“Raise the existing southern walls higher and longer, preventing the North’s winter from crossing over. Everything from the North is your enemy—devote all your strength to blocking it. If you fail to do so, only ruins will remain where winter passes, and you shall all perish.”
What… what is this?
Aslan felt as if he’d been plunged into a vacuum.
A deep silence enveloped him.
He couldn’t breathe properly.
Every word he’d just heard seemed to disintegrate—from sentences into words, then into letters—scattering and floating aimlessly in his mind.
Rationally, Aslan knew he’d made an unreasonable request of Hestia.
Though she’d given no clear answer, he’d foolishly clung to hope.
That faint, stubborn hope had gnawed relentlessly at him.
Besides, emotions never fit neatly into measured lines.
In the end, he was swept away by a violent storm.
“Ha… haha.”
Breaking the silence, a hollow laugh escaped his lips.
He pressed a large hand to his forehead and laughed emptily for a long while.
‘What exactly was I waiting for?’
His mind went numb.
Then his fists tightened.
Uncontrollable, directionless rage suddenly poured out.
He even felt his heart shatter, realizing he alone had believed his bond with Hestia was special.
“You shouldn’t… have done this.”
If you weren’t going to grant my request,
at the very least, you shouldn’t have spoken this oracle aloud.
The New Year’s greeting carried on white breath, the fluttering pink petals, the late summer sunsets, the vivid autumn leaves—
every memory of the past three years shared with Hestia shattered into sharp fragments, cutting, piercing, and tearing through Aslan’s chest.
‘I can’t forgive you.’
No matter that she was his first love.
She invoked the will of the gods to condemn Kalati—everything he held dear—to be devoured by the monster called winter.
Meanwhile, Yorgos’s messenger folded the paper bearing the oracle.
His duty was done; he should have left—but instead, he looked at Aslan with an even sterner expression than before.
“And now, a personal message from His Majesty the King.”
Aslan’s thick, straight eyebrows lifted slightly.
The messenger hesitated briefly, then bowed his head before Aslan and raised it again.
“Aslan Kalati, accept my condolences and deepest sympathies for your father’s passing.”
“…?”
Aslan’s eyes narrowed in confusion. He couldn’t immediately grasp what he’d just heard.
Then, a beat too late, his breath stopped—and his pupils widened. His fists clenched instinctively.
‘Father…’
He should have returned immediately.
Instead of clinging to Hestia, he should have been at his father’s deathbed.
Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave, plunging Aslan into profound despair.
Yorgos’s messenger continued.
“Furthermore, you are hereby appointed the new Duke Kalati. Return to your homeland at once and stop ‘winter’.”
.
.
.
The messenger departed, and Aslan, along with his two officers, mounted their horses with heavy hearts.
This was no place to share their grief.
“We must return as quickly as possible.”
“Yes.”
The moment Aslan stepped out of the palace, he saw Hestia standing before him.
One of Aslan’s eyebrows rose.
Today held no other palace events besides his departure for Kalati with his two officers.
From this, it seemed clear she’d come here deliberately upon hearing he was leaving.
“Ha.”
Aslan twisted his lips bitterly.
Her presence here now meant she could have visited him anytime before.
Whether to explain, excuse herself, or apologize—
if Hestia had truly wanted to, she would have come long ago.
Yet now… she came.
His barely restrained emotions began boiling again like lava.
Consumed by anger, he failed to notice that Hestia’s hair was disheveled—as if she’d rushed here—and her cheeks were flushed, with neither carriage nor servant accompanying her.
“Aslan…!”
Gasping for breath, Hestia softly uttered his name.
My Ex-Girlfriend Is The Regent In The Female-dominant World (Male lead transmigrates to the matriarchal world)
Two years ago, Gu Sui picked up a homeless woman in ancient costume from the street.
Apart from occasionally claiming to be a princess from a female-dominant country due to illness, her figure, appearance, intelligence, and martial arts skills were impeccable.
Naturally evolving from roommates to girlfriends, as time went on, Gu Sui found it increasingly difficult to tolerate her queen syndrome.
“Mu Jiulu, can you stop controlling me inside and out? Let’s break up.”
Gu Sui made a breakup call, and since then, he couldn’t find any trace of her.
A year later, Gu Sui, who was planning to move, woke up the next day and found himself in a different place.
“Young Master, today is the day you choose your Wife-master through martial arts competition at Jade Dew Pavilion. Please get up quickly.”
Gu Sui: Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
As the only son of a general’s mansion in a female-dominant dynasty, the young empress personally issued a decree allowing Gu Sui to select his Wife-master through martial arts competition. Whoever could defeat him could marry him.
Gu Sui: “……”
He didn’t inherit the original owner’s martial prowess, so anyone could defeat him! And what the hell is a Wife-master?
Forced to come to Jade Dew Pavilion, the densely packed women below made Gu Sui’s agoraphobia act up, and his face was full of resistance.
Until he saw the Regent sitting on the second floor, with a smile on the corner of her lips, her eyes wicked and nonchalant.
Hmm… she looked a little familiar.
It turned out that the Regent also found him a little familiar.
Mu Jiulu fiddled with her bone clasp, her deep gaze locked on the man who was out of place in this world.
“Finally, I found you.”
Male transmigrates into female-dominant world
One-sentence summary: What goes around comes around, taking turns in the crematorium
Most Commented This Week
Who Spent the Night with the Tower Master (Completed Main Story)
I Decline the Ex-Boyfriend of the Regretful Male Lead (Completed Main Story)
Long Live the Emperor, Minus Me (Completed Main Story)
After Linking the Villainess and Male Lead (5 Chapters Left to Complete)
Captured into the Bedroom of the Enemy Emperor (1 Chapters Left to Complete)
I Became a Supporting Character in a Martial Arts Novel (Completed Main Story)