Chapter 182
As Erica’s pitiful cries began to subside, Vargan, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
“How much did you see?”
“Everything… everything…”
Erica said, her voice trembling like a fledgling bird.
At 13 years old, during a time of turmoil and wailing, she had witnessed everything Vargan had experienced.
“……”
A brief moment of relief, like a breath of fresh air, appeared in Vargan’s burning heart. He had managed to escape the worst-case scenario. Erica hadn’t seen any memories of the world outside the story.
What she had seen were the miserable events that transpired between the original Vargan and herself.
…To say it was a relief felt inadequate given the overwhelming weight Vargan felt. However, a small part of him felt a bit more at ease.
“Why… why didn’t you tell me…?”
She spoke, despite knowing the reason.
Having seen everything, she knew that reason too. Yet she continued to blame herself.
“…Why couldn’t I trust you?”
Tears streamed down her jewel-like blue eyes.
Just when it seemed like she might stop, tears flowed again with her bowed head.
From her soft lips, a hidden truth slipped out.
“I didn’t even know you were terminally ill…”
The original Vargan fell victim to an unknown disease that led to an unavoidable death in his early twenties. It was referred to as the ‘Curse of God.’
The disgrace hidden from the public by the head of the Schugenharz family for the sake of the family’s reputation.
And that was…
“That’s also the reason you changed…”
Schugenharz Troa Vargan.
The ill-fated genius completely transforms after learning about his limited lifespan. He strays from the perfect elite path he had walked until now and begins to live a reckless life within the confines of Schugenharz, not even sure if it was his true self.
Everything had lost its meaning.
The achievements in magic he had aimed for.
The title of genius, receiving envy and jealousy from the world.
The lofty name of the Schugenharz family.
None of it mattered.
Just one word – terminal – caused the world to instantaneously lose its color and turn to black and white.
In this black-and-white world, hatred and questions arose.
Why did he have to die? What had all his efforts been for? What crime had he committed? Despite undergoing countless educations to achieve a respectable life and moral standards, even the most heinous criminals walk freely with their heads held high. Why did it have to be him?
Despite receiving extensive education, even criminals committing atrocious acts held their heads high and breathed freely. Why was it that he…
Why… why…
Why…!
—Are you okay, Vargan?!
In a world of black and white, she was the only one who did not lose her light.
The only color Vargan could see were Erica’s blue eyes.
Their relationship began due to the interests of their families, but they never viewed each other through the lens of profit and loss.
Vargan, overwhelmed by the unbearable reality, wished he could pull his small fiancée into an embrace, to cry in her arms as he revealed all his truths.
But he couldn’t.
He couldn’t.
The reality struck him.
What if he were to share the weight of tragedy with her?
‘What about the Schugenhartz Family…? What about the Portlet Family, intertwined by engagement…?’
And more than anything, this woman who truly loved him.
‘Could Erica endure…?’
No, she couldn’t possibly.
This fragile, young girl couldn’t withstand it.
So what should he do? He would eventually face certain death, and that was unavoidable… In a worst-case scenario, Erica might try to follow him to death. That absolutely couldn’t happen. It must not happen. He must do whatever it takes…!
Just as Erica knew Vargan well,
Vargan also knew Erica well.
Feeling the magnitude of their emotions for each other, Vargan could foresee the future as if he were looking ahead clearly.
Then, Vargan remembered.
It was something he had to do even if it broke his heart.
‘…A way for Erica to not crumble.’
Ironically, it involved hurting Erica.
Yet, it was the only way to save her.
From that moment, Vargan began to distance himself from Erica.
He started to hurl verbal abuse at her as if stabbing his heart with a spear.
He was the first to commit violence against a servant, making sure she found out.
He tore to shreds the letters filled with their once-happy times right in front of her.
All of this was why.
He had wanted to give up so many times. He wanted to take her hand, apologize, and reveal all the truths while she cried in pain.
But that would only make her hate him.
She wouldn’t be able to shed her feelings of pity for him.
Vargan escalated his evil deeds. He employed every means possible to make sure Erica would come to hate him.
This process tormented Vargan intensely.
He forced himself to vomit, self-harm, and drove himself to the brink of madness.
And yet, Erica…
—Vargan! Please don’t do this…
Weak and frail, she stood on the ground with her slender arms, enduring the pain of her severed legs as she waited for Vargan.
No matter how much Vargan thrust a knife into her and shook it around,
Erica would scream and, even if it took her to exhaustion, she would try to rise and embrace Vargan.
Vargan hesitated.
The only one with color did not give up on him. No matter what, she wanted to believe.
Her sorrowful cries, now feeling like ancient echoes of their happy memories together,
His terrifying deeds plagued Vargan, but…
A dreadful act indeed. Everyone tormented Vargan, but there was one thing that particularly gnawed at him: Erica’s “trust” in him.
Vargan, shaken, was ready to confess the truth to her, resigning himself to it all.
Just like a well-crafted novel, it was as if something was saying, “You mustn’t do that.”
And then the moment arrived.
“Laila… Laila…”
In the darkness of the inn room, Erica clung desperately to the faint light from outside. She was struggling to voice a fact that was almost too much to bear.
Her little fists pounded against her chest, gripping the area around her rapidly beating heart. Just one word wanted to escape.
“Laila—”
“—Erica. That was an illusion shown by the Dungeon.”
Vargan firmly interrupted her before she could continue.
Laila, the servant who had taken care of Erica since she was born, was precious to her like family. Now he was trying to pry the truth about her from Erica.
But then…
“Schugenharz. You don’t have to lie anymore…”
“…….”
Meeting her eyes, Vargan ceased to deny it.
No matter what he said, it was meaningless now. Erica had already accepted everything she had seen as truth.
Erica looked at Vargan with an infinite pity, her voice trembling.
“Laila was from the Goddess Church.”
If gods do exist, they must be playing with the world like it’s a game board.
What are the odds of that actually being true?
—Thud.
It fell in such an absurd manner.
A small wooden figurine crafted in the likeness of a goddess.
A symbol representing the Goddess Church, particularly the Formists. That figurine had dropped from Laila’s possession.
Of course, Vargan had already sensed something was off with Laila.
It was during his direct search in Laila’s room that these events unfolded.
But even so, it was too coincidental for evidence to miraculously appear while pressuring Laila.
Vargan intended to curse her, forcing her to reveal everything—the purpose of infiltrating the Portlet Family and what she had done to Erica all this time.
And then, cornered, Laila…
—“May the goddess’s blessing last forever…!”
She committed suicide.
So extreme and instantaneous he couldn’t even stop it.
Or perhaps it was a deliberate death.
Laila pierced her chest without channeling any magic.
Was this a form of blessing from the start? The structure of it all was lost to him now.
Then, right at that astounding moment, the door that had been closed suddenly swung open.
A blue-glowing Mana Stone fell, illuminating the room.
—“Lord Vargan…?”
Erica looked on in horror, as if she had witnessed a scene so dreadful it defied belief.
She silently screamed.
Vargan almost found himself saying it wasn’t his doing.
Whatever the circumstances, he was now checking if she would be okay after witnessing the death of someone so precious to him—Laila.
‘Wait, what did I mean when I said Laila was from the Goddess Church…?’
That information would only make things worse for her. Perhaps she wouldn’t just faint; she might never rise again.
If that were the case…
Then, he concluded his thoughts in that brief moment, anticipating what would come next and acted accordingly.
He anticipated and took action.
His eyes, having made a resolution, turned cold.
—Is it Erica?
With an indifferent voice, as if not surprised at all. Calm and icy.
—This guy insulted me, so I decided to give him a little punishment.
Vargan decided to take advantage of his situation.
Yeah… let’s not suffer. Don’t be sad, and don’t try to resolve it either.
Isn’t this the outcome I was hoping for? With this, Erica will completely turn her back on me. I will simply make the best use of the current situation. She won’t even feel betrayed about Laila.
Isn’t that enough? Isn’t it perfect?
…Isn’t this how it should be?
…….
Days passed after the incident, during the time Erica was holed up in her room.
Vargan disclosed the details of the incident to Erica’s father, the head of the Portlet Family.
He presented the sculpture that Laila had, and the head of the Portlet Family clutched his head in agony.
Laila was clearly an employee of the Portlet Family.
Although it was his wife, Lilian, who hired her, the consequence of not verifying this was severe. The fact that an employee of the Portlet Family, known for its faithfulness to Yggdrasil, came from the Goddess Church without their knowledge tarnished the family’s honor…
—Don’t worry. The fact that Laila was from the Goddess Church will remain a secret between you and me.
Vargan had not informed anyone about the circumstances of the incident and declared it as an “incident that happened while punishing a servant who didn’t properly follow his orders.”
He revealed the truth only to Erica’s father because he understood his disposition. Like his own father, he would never allow anything that would harm the family’s honor.
Therefore, he couldn’t refuse Vargan’s proposal.
—So, please prevent Erica from investigating this incident.
It’s impossible for Erica to learn the truth.
—I ask this of you.
…This worked.
Despite the fact that the person he had to beg was the head of the Portlet Family, Vargan lowered his head. The head, flustered, urged him to raise his head.
In the ensuing conversation, the head accepted Vargan’s proposal, and the details of the incident regarding Laila became a secret between the two of them.
Later, even if Erica tried to investigate, all traces would be hidden away.
Before Vargan left, the head said that if Vargan wanted to break off the engagement, he would do so unilaterally due to the Portlet family’s notification so that it wouldn’t become a blemish on Schugenharz. However, Vargan couldn’t easily nod in agreement.
—Can I… please postpone the annulment for a while?
Just until the day Erica brings it up first.
Just until then…
Even with this resolve, he hesitated to let go of the sole connection between her and himself. The human heart is truly complicated and fragile.
The head expressed his gratitude. He was worried about Vargan bearing everything but was then able to deflect scrutiny from his own mistake because of it.
Vargan left, answering his thanks one last time.
Stuffing away all emotions trying to escape, he acted composedly.
—One villain is enough for me.
