Why Do You Obsess Even After Death (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3
In truth, I had always been dead, so calling me terminally ill wasn’t exactly wrong.
Until this problem is resolved, I might as well be on borrowed time, waiting for the day I die.
A few days had passed since it became known that I was terminally ill.
Today was the day I sat beside Father for breakfast in the dining hall for the first time in a long while. Usually too busy to even show his face, he’d suddenly decided to enjoy breakfast together and specifically summoned me.
“…Don’t call the physician again.”
Several days had passed since Pesoor informed Father of my illness. And now, only after learning about my condition days ago, he was saying something absurd like calling the doctor again.
Even though we lived under the same roof, Father had only summoned me once all his urgent matters were settled.
“It’s unnecessary.”
I kept my eyes fixed on the food on my plate and didn’t even glance at Father.
“Get re-examined. I heard it’s some incurable disease with no known cause. Different physicians have different opinions—you might find a treatment yet.”
Father’s gaze, too, remained fixed on his plate. Eating steak since morning, he spoke as casually as if discussing the weather.
Isn’t meat a bit excessive for breakfast?
He didn’t even seem to know what kind of meal I liked.
“I’ll handle it myself.”
Even as we spoke, Father never stopped cutting his food.
The sharp, rhythmic dance of his knife across the plate irritated me.
Watching it made my appetite vanish, so I set down my utensils first.
“It doesn’t matter to you whether I live or die anyway.”
I didn’t know what expression crossed Father’s face upon hearing my words—I never once looked his way.
After rinsing my mouth, I dabbed my lips with a napkin, signaling the end of the meal.
“I’ll even pick the venue for my memorial service in advance, so don’t worry. As a dutiful daughter, I must lighten your burdens.”
After Mother passed away from illness when I was young, Father devoted himself entirely to expanding our family’s influence.
And I was never part of that endeavor.
It was precisely around that time—when Father began distancing himself from me and always ordered me to wear gloves.
He never held me properly and feared my hands touching him.
He simply hired a reasonably good nanny and an excellent tutor and left me in their care.
Perhaps that was why.
With no one to rely on emotionally since childhood, I became unusually shy.
I never attended social seasons, always feigning illness, and Father readily provided excuses on my behalf.
Maybe he feared my abilities, or perhaps worried that if I went out, my powers might be revealed and bring shame to our family name.
I don’t know. How could I possibly understand his thoughts? I don’t want to understand, nor do I care to know.
As a result, most nobles didn’t even recognize my face.
Thus, Detor and Delia were my only friends.
And that was the problem. Exactly that.
Because I’d been betrayed by Detor and Delia.
“You knew I planned to marry Detor and leave the family, right? You must’ve already prepared to raise a new heir. Just go ahead and train someone suitable.”
I rose from my seat first, yet Father’s knife never ceased its motion.
Watching his unwavering demeanor, I quietly let slip my true feelings.
“If you’d shown even the slightest concern for my death—if you’d shown even a tiny bit of interest in me while I was still alive—then amidst all those deaths, just once… just once, I might not have died so easily.”
“…What do you mean? ‘All those deaths’?”
“So don’t concern yourself this time either. Indifference suits you well.”
“Referentia.”
“And by the way, I don’t enjoy meat for breakfast. It makes me feel bloated. You didn’t even know that, did you?”
After finishing, I turned to leave the dining hall. At last, the grating sound of his knife finally stopped.
But the noise scratching at my insides continued, tormenting me still.
[This is the timeline separator]“What should we do… Hic… our Lea. How could this happen….”
I pressed my temples firmly and gazed only at the drifting clouds.
I’d stepped onto this stage only because it seemed natural to play along with this farce.
“Hic… sob… hic.”
“Delia, stop crying… If you cry, Referentia will be sad….”
“Hic… Detor, hic… Lea… Lea….”
The problem was that this farce was so utterly ridiculous I couldn’t bring myself to fit in.
Delia, crying sorrowfully over my terminal diagnosis.
Detor, comforting Delia as she wept before her soon-to-be-dead fiancée.
“They’re so consistent now I genuinely want to cheer them on….”
If there truly exists unchanging love in this world, perhaps it’s these two.
“Even with such tragic news, Duke Violentus hasn’t shown his face!”
Bang!
Detor slammed his palm hard onto the table.
I turned my gaze from the floating clouds and accidentally locked eyes with Crown Prince Belial, who was looking at me with sorrowful eyes.
He was the only man here who regarded me with pity. No—perhaps the only person in the entire empire.
“Lady Niriel. I’ll send the Imperial Physicians. They’re renowned as the finest healers in the empire, so perhaps they could—”
Today’s gathering—Detor, Delia, and the Crown Prince himself—was meant to comfort me, the girl soon to die.
‘Detor and I used to hang out like this occasionally with them, since they were close friends.’
Crown Prince Belial was gentle and kind, beloved by the people and followed by many. His constant acts of kindness and consideration earned him praise from everyone working in the Crown Prince’s palace.
“It’s fine, Your Highness. Another physician has already confirmed it… I don’t particularly wish to be re-examined just to have my death sentence reaffirmed.”
The breeze gently lifted the Crown Prince’s violet hair, soft as cotton candy.
Staring at that mysterious shade—neither dark nor bright—I often lost myself so completely I forgot time was passing.
At my firm refusal, Crown Prince Belial’s blue eyes shimmered moistly, as if filled with tears.
Through countless loops, in every varying circumstance, he remained unchanged—always kind and gentle toward me.
Had I loved a man like him instead, would my end have been different?
“…How many months did the physician say you have left?”
Detor scratched his eyebrow and asked awkwardly. His transparent intention drew a scoff from me.
I hid my smirk in my teacup and shrugged.
Before taking a sip, I glanced briefly at the three of them. Since they’d all drunk the same tea and remained perfectly fine, I supposed I didn’t need to worry about dying from it.
‘Living a life where I constantly wonder when and how I’ll die next.’
It’s not truly living, even if I’m alive.
“They said about six months.”
“Oh…”
“I’ll have enough time to get things in order, so it’s fine.”
Detor pressed his lips tightly shut. He furrowed his brows as if deeply grieved. And as both men’s gazes turned to me, Delia’s sobs suddenly grew louder.
“Sob… hic… Lea. It’s okay. You—you stay strong. I’ll always pray for you.”
Delia let her clear tears flow freely without wiping them away as she wept. Seeing her cry harder, Detor wrapped an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
Tired of hearing her incessant sobbing, I gave a vague nod and changed the subject.
“By the way, Your Highness, is it alright for you to be here? I heard Princess Reflio went to the temple’s prayer hall.”
“Oh… yes. His Majesty ordered her to marry a foreign prince, so… um, my sister ran away to the prayer hall.”
Startled that I’d addressed him directly, Crown Prince Belial blushed and answered shyly.
“I heard Lady Niriel rarely shows interest in others’ affairs…”
“Still, I must stay informed about major imperial matters.”
“Indeed… you’re truly wise.”
Crown Prince Belial nodded with a smile, his ears burning red.
He was always such a handsome man when he smiled. As I stared openly, his face grew hotter and hotter until he shyly averted his gaze.
Seeing our exchanged glances, Detor released Delia’s shoulders and turned his upper body toward me.
“Referentia. I’ll definitely find a cure for you.”
“…You, Detor?”
“Of course. Referentia, your illness won’t break our engagement or make me abandon you.”
After all, once enough time passes, I—the terminally ill girl—will simply die and disappear, so he likely didn’t want to tarnish his image unnecessarily.
He could stretch things out until my death after marriage, then remarry Delia to maintain a favorable image for both families.
“Referentia. Even if time rewound, I’d always love you. I’m so proud of you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
I’m quite proud of myself, too.
Seeing Detor display affection toward me, Delia—who’d been crying—was now pouting.
How could I have failed to notice these obvious signs earlier?
I swallowed hard, recalling the countless acts of revenge I’d endured despite finding even sitting across from them revolting.
I had to endure.
Because these two would soon become the very reason for my death.
“How can Lea be so ill… yet Duke Violentus, as a fellow guardian house, hasn’t even come to visit? He never shows up to our gatherings either, always sending a proxy instead. Will he really skip Lea’s memorial service too?”
Delia subtly steered the conversation, feigning concern. Her words—“If he does, I’ll never forgive him!”—carried a faint hint of hoping for my death.
“Delia, are you going to scold him yourself? Rumor has it he’s so fearsome-looking even monsters flee at the sight of him.”
The foolish Detor, charmed by Delia’s righteous anger on his behalf, patted her head and laughed.
Apparently, the two had forgotten who sat across from them.
“But I’m Lea’s friend! I won’t forgive him!”
“They say monsters invade the North whenever he’s away. What good is his ducal title if he can’t even attend gatherings of the guardian houses?”
The Violentus family of the North, tasked with defending the empire from monsters.
Though Detor belonged to another guardian house, he’d always resented the special treatment the Violentus family received for guarding the monster-infested North.
“May he rot his whole life stuck in the North, hunting monsters. What’s so hard about monster hunting anyway? He always acts so aloof, as if he’s the only one capable. Sure, the Violentus family has superior physical prowess among guardian houses, but how exceptional could he really be?”
“Your Highness, have you met him? Is he really so terrifying-looking that monsters flee on sight?”
Delia rested her chin in her hand and blinked cutely at Crown Prince Belial. After stroking his chin thoughtfully, he gave a vague reply.
“Well… I’m not sure. But after Duke Violentus visits the palace, everyone says they feel uneasy around him. I’ve heard people say his eyes look like he could kill a man without a second thought.”
“See? I knew it!”
Detor slapped his knee excitedly and munched on a cookie, clearly enjoying the gossip about Duke Violentus.
‘He looks like the kind who’d crawl away on all fours if he ever saw a real monster….’
“Enough. Let’s not talk about people who aren’t here.”
I didn’t want to see Detor boosting his ego by belittling others. My firm words as I sipped my tea instantly chilled the atmosphere.
“W-Wise indeed, Lady Niriel.”
Crown Prince Belial wobbled like thin paper in the wind and gave me a shaky thumbs-up, while Detor, his good mood ruined, scowled and muttered, “I could really use a drink.”
“Lea! We’re not talking about someone absent—we’re talking about Detor! I’m saying Detor is the most magnificent head of a guardian house in the empire!”
Quickly reading the mood, Delia flattered Detor and giggled brightly. Detor, whose mood had soured, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and declared, “Only Delia truly understands me!”
‘…Sigh.’
They were such lively little insects—crying over my impending death one moment, playing merrily the next.
[This is the timeline separator]Time passed swiftly.
Pesoor diligently followed my instructions. Sometimes he prescribed medicine that made my hair fall out excessively; other times, he gave false diagnoses claiming I suffered from high fever.
Recently, I pretended I couldn’t eat properly, reducing my meals until I actually lost weight and looked genuinely ill.
‘I’ll just endure this hunger a little longer.’
Though rumors spread that I was terminally ill, nothing changed. Gifts of condolence arrived from various houses, but that was all.
No one came weeping to see me or insisted on calling a physician—not even Detor or Delia visited more often; in fact, their visits decreased further.
Pesoor added that he now somewhat understood why I wanted to leave this family.
Unharmed and without incident, I safely reached the day before my wedding, despite the murderer’s lack of reaction.
Worried that my terminal diagnosis might trigger a new death, I was relieved nothing happened.
‘That lunatic is clearly a pervert who finds meaning in personally ending my life himself.’
Now that my life had a reprieve, he likely intended to watch me struggle to live before finally killing me.
‘It’s infuriating.’
His attitude—as if my life were entirely in his hands—ignited a surge of rage within me.
Therefore, before that madman moved, it was my turn to act first.
“Detor, Delia.”
The long-awaited day before the wedding.
I summoned Detor and Delia early in the morning and sighed deeply.
“Why, why are you like this, Lea?”
Noticing the unusual atmosphere, Delia asked worriedly.
Right—she must feel guilty about many things.
“Hah.”
I deliberately sighed even louder and pressed a hand to my forehead. I could feel them exchanging glances.
No matter how much these insects put their heads together, they’d still just be insects.
You wretched vermin.
“Is it because tomorrow’s the wedding? Referentia, I’ll never abandon you…”
“Detor. Are you dating Delia?”
The moment my question ended, Detor’s face hardened. It was the moment his image as the kind fiancé who’d never abandon his ailing betrothed began to crack.
“Just be honest. You two have been seeing each other for quite a while, haven’t you?”
“What are you… Wait, Referentia, this is just a… misunderstanding…”
I could almost hear Detor’s mind spinning frantically.
He’d planned to marry me, secure ties with the Niriel family, then after my death, pretend to grieve before remarrying Delia.
If his feelings for me had truly changed, why couldn’t he just cleanly break things off?
I’d pondered this endlessly through every resurrection.
To Detor, I was merely prestige.
When it was first announced that Detor and I were dating, how often was his name mentioned in high society?
People speculated how extraordinary our child would be, given our union as two guardian houses, and Detor took immense pride in that.
Detor was head of the Deberti family; I was the only daughter of the Niriel family. And Delia was the youngest daughter, overshadowed by her elder brother in succession.
That’s why he couldn’t abandon me.
Outwardly, I made him shine brighter.
Only then could he steal the empire’s attention away from Duke Violentus, whom he so envied.
“L-Lea.”
But the foolish Delia seized this opportunity without hesitation.
“How… how did you find out?”
She must have always itched to boast that Detor was hers. Detor whipped his head toward Delia in shock, his eyes demanding why she’d admit it now—but Delia pretended ignorance.
“If you’ve found out… then I suppose there’s no helping it. Yes, Detor and I have loved each other since long ago…”
“Delia!”
Detor urgently called out to her and glanced at me.
But seeing my hardened expression, he seemed to realize it was over and squeezed his eyes shut.
Well then. What will you do now?
Actually, I already knew exactly how Detor would respond.
It would be difficult to change my mind. If he tried to sway me here, he’d risk losing both me and Delia.
So he’d choose to protect at least one—standing by Delia, marrying into the Palo family. That would be his best option.
“…Hah, Delia’s right. I’m sorry, Referentia.”
Detor ran a hand through his hair in irritation and sighed.
Just as expected.
You two are far too consistent. How is it that across countless repeated lives, you’ve never once defied my expectations?
Now it was my turn to act.
“How… how could you do this to me…?”
I clutched my chest in feigned anguish and bowed my head.
“How could you with my own friend…? Detor, I trusted you.”
But no matter how hard I tried, tears wouldn’t come. Helpless, I pulled out a pre-dampened handkerchief and dabbed my dry eyes.
“Lea, I’m sorry.”
Delia hurriedly clasped her hands before me.
“But… but you’re going to die soon anyway.”
She blurted out that thoughtless remark.
Fortunately, both seemed thoroughly fooled by my act.
“I’ll be happy with Detor… for both of us.”
“What if I don’t die, Delia?”
“But that’s just your hope, Lea…”
“…Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
In all my repeated loops, they’d never once apologized to me first. Of course, they’d never disclosed their relationship before the wedding either.
Detor was a fool blinded by vanity and fame—but why did Delia have to be the same?
“You could’ve told me before I asked. Before tomorrow’s wedding.”
“I’m sorry, Lea.”
“Referentia, it was for your sake. Delia worried so much about you. She said she’d wait—after you passed, we’d marry.”
It was utter nonsense—so pointless it wasted my time just listening.
“What if I hadn’t died? What would you have done then?”
They had no answer.
“If I’d survived past six months, would you have killed me yourselves to get married?”
“Lea, I… I thought of you as a friend…”
Clang!
It was time to end this performance.
I dropped my teacup with trembling hands, as if shocked, and covered my eyes with my palms.
“…Detor, let’s call off the engagement.”
Delia gasped sharply—as if her long-held wish had finally come true.
“…Alright, Referentia. If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. But remember, we truly cared for you as a friend…”
“Just leave. I don’t want to see either of you right now.”
Convinced they had nothing left to lose, they clasped hands and exited the parlor together.
The door closed, and their footsteps faded away.
I lowered my hands from my eyes and rose to my feet.
“Time to die now.”
Male lead says he’s pregnant — and it’s female lead’s child
Something seems a bit off about this world.
Wang Zhao thought as she watched a pregnant man walking towards her…
Intro
Female lead finds herself in a world where the men who possess the ability to bear children.
As she navigates this unfamiliar reality, she is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her boyfriend, who reveals that he is pregnant.
Is this truly her boyfriend?
Why can’t she recall any details about their time together?
She begins to doubt whether the child her boyfriend is carrying is even hers.
Is there a hidden reason behind her amnesia, or could it be a side effect of her sudden arrival in this strange new world?
Just when it seems the protagonist’s life couldn’t become any more entangled, her ex-boyfriend makes an unexpected appearance, raising questions about the protagonist’s past.
__________
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The name is hilarious lmao these novels and their names are getting out of hand
Truer words have never been spoken miss Leperentia
This doesn’t add up because the man that killed her clearly knew who she was for a while