The blurry silhouette of a woman vividly emerged.

"O sacred star of all the poor, Roxellan."

"She is the miracle that will end the era of the beast invasion."

Saint Roxellan, unlike previous saints from noble backgrounds who merely prayed meekly, took up two swords and plunged into the midst of beast hordes, leading the crusaders to victory.

"Lord, you can't do this in the castle."

"Shut up and hand over the hoarded food! If you continue to abandon the starving people outside, I will consider you all heretics!"

Her fiery demeanor, unyielding wherever she went, led the oppressed classes to rally at the temple for her blessing. However, the temple, instead of treating her appropriately without backing, exploited her in battlefields and ceremonial events.

As a human, it was natural to reach the limit of endurance.

"Master of the Magic Tower. Shall we make a deal?"

Her bright orange hair, as radiant as sunlight, fell in gentle waves like the ripples of a lake. Through it, her long eyelashes and serene brown eyes looked up at Arthur.

"What are the terms, Saint?"

"You support me, and I will grow into a separate force from the temple to assist the Magic Tower."

"It is a satisfactory proposal, but…." Arthur, thinking her rounded jawline and pouting lips were attractive, met her provocative gaze. "I desire more than that. As you already do."

After a brief silent standoff…

Her lips curved into a smile. “You’re quick-witted.”

“Drop the honorifics. While you’re at it, let go of your sanity a bit too.”

“That’s great. I actually prefer it when people are slightly crazy.”

It was the moment when the world, which had been slowly answering Arthur’s endless questions, finally gave the most joyful response.

Time passed, and the promised day was just around the corner.

The day the pitiful saint would be freed from being a scarecrow and the tower master would be rewarded for his long wait.

“She’s going to become the empress!”

The emperor had suddenly proposed to the saint, the church had eagerly accepted….

“What a perfect match for His Majesty the Emperor.”

“Finally, the saint will be compensated for all her hardships.”

...The mad dog had fallen to a mere hunting dog.

“Let’s escape together.”

Roxellan, who had fled the temple and hid in the tower, grabbed Arthur. Though it was called a proposal, it was essentially an order. To refuse the emperor’s order was treason, and the only path for a traitor was the execution ground.

“There’s no way out.”

He was the one who had suppressed the local aristocrats to centralize power, established a sharp defense system and intelligence network across the empire, and dedicated all rights to the emperor. For the first time, he cursed his choices. He wanted to turn everything back.

Gritting his teeth, Roxellan asked again, with a more sorrowful expression than before, “…Then can you die with me?”

He was happy to be the only man who could shake her in this vast empire. It was his pride. But if he had known it would become the shackle that held them back, would he have started this relationship?

“No. You must live.” Arthur could never give her the answer she wanted. “Should we drink poison together? I’d watch you twist in agony and vomit blood.”

“Arthur.”

“Should we stab each other? I’d rather thrust a knife into my own neck than stab you with my hand.”

“Arthur!”

“I don’t want to see you die! Do you think I’ve been hanging on just to watch something like that?” Arthur shouted.

In Roxellan’s eyes, love and resentment were mixed. She was his friend and comrade, the one true trust he found in a world filled with love and hatred.

But to Azar, she was nothing more than a desirable card. If Azar, the heir to two royal bloodlines, married the saint, no one could challenge the legitimacy of the new royal family.

There are many precedents of hunting a hunting dog’s body. But there’s no precedent of hunting its spirit, right?

An attempt to shatter the male’s pride by taking his mate as a hostage. It made him sick. It twisted him with disgust.

But Arthur gritted his teeth. It was clearly his mistake.

Assuming that Azar possessed the same level of morality as himself was his arrogance.

“Live. Somehow. Stay healthy.”

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“Such smooth talk. It’s a long-winded way of telling me to become the empress, isn’t it? You’re truly despicable, you trash. The phrase ‘caught in your own trap’ suits you perfectly!” Roxellan did not back down and faced him. "You're right. My mistake was that I didn’t want to command you like Azar."

Arthur gave a bitter smile. "Want to give me a good slap? It won't solve your anger, but I have to go kill Azar, so dying right now would be inconvenient."

In the silence, Roxellan, who had been glaring at Arthur for a long time, slowly approached him. Wearing a loose shirt with two buttons undone, she looked disheveled...

"I will never sleep with that bastard Azar." She grabbed Arthur's jaw. "You, come find me at the imperial palace later."

She pulled Arthur close and kissed him.

Arthur, in turn, held her waist with one arm, as they fell into the bed, wrapped in the electric shock of the moment shared only by them.

I will remember your scent. So that I can recognize you even if my eyes go blind.

That moment was his last peace and ultimate happiness in life.

Thus, Roxellan became the Empress, and Arthur faithfully protected her.

Anyone who attacked the Empress was dealt with. After all, since Azar's betrayal, his position as Chancellor was a countdown; it didn’t matter how wildly he swung.

Someday, I will reclaim you and place my daughter who resembles you on my lap.

Grinding his teeth with such determination, he did not let go of hope for the future.

But a year later.

"Who did this?"

"Who else could it be?"

His last shred of patience snapped.

The day he entered the palace upon hearing the news that the Empress was critically ill.

Roxellan, her bruises and wounds hidden by silk, smiled. "There is no one in this court to stop you. But what about the Emperor?"

Arthur took her hand and placed it on his cheek. It was cold.

Why?

The question that had been swirling incessantly resurfaced.

Why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?

"I was happy every time I saw you in the palace. Even though our encounters were brief, those fleeting moments felt eternal." The dying breath that struggled out tickled Arthur's cheek. "I gave Azar not an ounce of affection. I couldn't possibly accept the wealth and honor you gave that scum. That must have unsettled Azar and hastened my end."

"What can I do for you?" Arthur caressed Roxellan's face. His touch trembled with anger. "How should I kill that bastard Azar for you? Then I'll follow you to your grave."

"Azar is no longer someone you can take revenge on."

A sad laugh cut through Arthur's heart.

"Run far away with your people and plan for the future. It would be nice if you sometimes light incense thinking of me."

Arthur did not respond to Roxellan’s request.

It was a promise he could not keep, even if he were skinned alive and torn apart.

Then Roxellan, with all her strength, led the hand she was holding. "Oh, my dear fool. Always pretending to be so rational, and now you’re overflowing with humanity."

She gently pressed her dry lips against Arthur's hand and then released them.

Both their eyes were starting to fill with tears.

"I didn’t show my feelings to you because I knew this would happen. Are you trying to make all my efforts go to waste?"

Suddenly, he remembered what she had said.

“You speak so freely. Such a long way of telling me to become the Empress, right?”

Back then, you must have felt like this. That’s why you wanted to die together instead.

"...You speak so freely. Can you even do that?"

Yes. We should have just died together.

"Yeah. I couldn’t do it. Leaving you behind feels wrong. But we have no choice, do we?"

Then we would have stayed together until the end. Here, in this world I created.

"Make sure you die of natural causes. Keep yourself intact and come find me in the afterlife. If you lose an arm or your neck along the way, I’ll kill you again myself."

Those were her last words.

Arthur hugged her lifeless body and sobbed.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

For wanting you. For letting you become my weakness.

For failing to save you in the end. For breaking my promise. I'm truly sorry.

After crying for a long time...

Why is the Empress’s palace so quiet?

He suddenly felt a sense of unease.

No one was entering the Empress's quarters. The perfect silence cut off from the outside.

The emptiness echoed beyond the walls.

It felt like... a stage set for someone...?

As he thought this and looked at the portrait hanging on the wall,

He rushed over.

Though the one who had been watching them disappeared in an instant, he saw it clearly.

Through the gap in the portrait, Azar's face, watching them with feverish eyes.

* * *

"We’ve arrived. You really must wake up now."

The call woke him from his sleep.

Arthur opened his hand. As soon as he opened his eyes, the stark pain surged in, and the fingers severed by torture quickly brought him back to reality. He strained his stiff body and looked around.

"Where is this place?"

"This is the Grand Duchy of Shalvarat in the western part of the Empire."

"That can't be."

"It's true. This is the center of the Grand Duchy, Halfmoon."

Is this really the breadbasket of the Empire?

Arthur looked around at the desolate landscape. The once charming village houses were reduced to blackened remains, and unburied corpses lay scattered here and there. The fields, stripped even of roots, were pockmarked and raw.

Brrr-

"Hey, you made it safely?"

A burly man approached, leading a wagon pulled by three horses. His shaggy hair and beard were braided together, giving him a rough appearance.

"The Grand Duke of Shalvarat sent me to guide you. Please, get on." The guide scrutinized Arthur and soon a look of disappointment crossed his face. "Is that scrawny guy really him?"

"Watch your mouth. He is a chancellor of the nation and the master of the mage tower."

"Chancellor, my foot. Just another runaway like the rest of us. Even an ignorant fellow like me knows whom to respect!"

Spitting, the guide lashed the whip hard. Arthur didn't respond. He merely sat on the rattling wagon, taking in the devastated surroundings.

The world he had struggled to reshape was in ruins once again. The determination for revenge burned even more fiercely in his eyes.