“Leaving?”
Mu’en’s eyes widened in shock as he stared at the door of the room. The door no longer gave him that sense of confinement it once did; it seemed like it could genuinely be opened now.
Mu’en instinctively grabbed the door handle and pressed down with all his might.
‘Click.’
The door swung open.
Through the crack of the door, he could see the bright hallway outside. A glimmer of hope sparked in Mu’en’s eyes. If the door was open, he could leave this place! But he wasn’t planning to abandon Celicia; he needed to seek help from others. Only by getting reinforcements could they have a chance to save her.
“Wait a minute.”
Mu’en suddenly paused mid-step.
Something felt off.
“The assassin’s accomplice outside must know about this, so why would she let me go? She said… it’s almost over? What… is almost over?”
Mu’en spun around abruptly.
And there it was.
—The maid, gripping a blazing dagger, resembled the Grim Reaper raising his scythe, ready to claim the soul that still held its pride, even in the face of utter despair.
Forward was life.
Backward was death.
Mu’en felt as if someone had flipped a coin, and he was waiting for it to land.
…
Celicia’s eyes reflected the sharp blade and the flames. Despair had completely engulfed her, suffocating her. Everything in her vision seemed to slow down, as if someone had hit the slow-motion button. But Celicia knew it wasn’t that time had slowed—it was that her brain was racing at full speed, accelerating her thoughts in this life-or-death moment. In short, it was the “life flashing before your eyes” trope.
“How embarrassing… to fall in a place like this… Damn Mu’en Campbell…”
Celicia cursed the man she hated most in her heart, though the anger she felt earlier had already dissipated. At this point, rage was meaningless.
“He must have escaped by now… That’s good… he shouldn’t die here…”
Celicia closed her eyes, calmly accepting her impending death.
‘Thud.’
The sound of the blade piercing flesh echoed as expected.
Scorching blood gushed out, splattering onto Celicia’s face. But she didn’t feel pain. Instead, she felt a familiar, warm presence enveloping her.
“What—”
She opened her eyes in shock, and her gaze met a pair of deep blue, clear eyes that now seemed somewhat dimmed. It was just like when he had asked her to dance at the ball.
“Cough… isn’t it a bit too early to give up, my Princess?”
Mu’en lay sprawled over Celicia, smiling weakly as he coughed up a mouthful of blood, staining her pristine white dress a shocking crimson.
“Why…”
Celicia stared in disbelief, the ice in her eyes melting away to reveal a panic and confusion she had never shown to anyone before—like a little girl.
“Mu’en Campbell, why did you save me…?”
“Why? Cough… Hell if I know.”
Mu’en struggled to breathe. The dagger, a symbol of death, had pierced through his lungs from behind, and the flames that could defy even the laws of gods were now mercilessly burning his body, bringing agonizing pain that threatened to shatter his consciousness.
“If I had to say… maybe… it was a spur-of-the-moment thing.”
“A spur-of-the-moment thing? Who does something like that in a moment like this…?”
Seeing Celicia’s obvious disbelief, Mu’en could only shake his head helplessly.
But he wasn’t lying. At that moment, he could’ve stepped out and escaped death. But when he turned around and saw the dagger being raised, ready to strike, all his thoughts vanished. His guilt towards Celicia, his regret over his own weakness, his fear of death, his desire to live—all of it disappeared.
In that split second, he remembered something from his past. He remembered the life-sized poster of Celicia he’d always stuck to his bedroom wall. That Celicia on the poster was far less beautiful than the real one, but in the countless times when life’s pressures and the endless grind of work had suffocated him, waking up to see that poster always gave him the courage to carry on.
So, he didn’t want Celicia to die.
So, he chose to turn back.
So, he stood in front of Death.
It turns out…
This so-called obsession…
Maybe it was all just self-deception.
“Looks like I really do have intermittent brain-dead syndrome, and it always hits at the worst times.”
Mu’en couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
Just like that time at 2 a.m. when he’d stubbornly tried to pull for a character in a gacha game.
Only to get hit by a truck and die after scoring five gold cards in a row.
“Is this going to be the same ending again?”
Well, at least after experiencing death once, it wasn’t so terrifying anymore.
“Before I go, let me show off one last time, or it’ll be such a waste…”
Thinking this, Mu’en fought through the pain, pulling himself together, trying to smile with the elegance and composure befitting the son of a duke.
“So… do I look like a man now, my Princess?”
“You…”
Unfortunately, Mu’en didn’t get to hear Celicia’s response.
Darkness swallowed his consciousness.
…
[…]
[Loading progress…]
[Pride progress: 50%]
[Envy progress: 99%]
[Greed progress: 0%]
[Lust progress: 0%]
[Sloth progress: 0%]
[Wrath progress: 0%]
[Gluttony progress: -90%]
[…]
[…]
[Keep struggling]
[Mu’en Campbell]
[My ￭￭￭￭]
Deep within Mu’en’s consciousness, a black book trembled faintly.
…
“You—bastard—”
Seeing Mu’en suddenly appear and shield the blow with his body, the maid’s eyes burned with fury.
They were so close… so close to success, and here comes Mu’en Campbell, making a mess of things at the last second. You’re not even the target!
“Do you really think you can stop me? Even if you block this one strike, with the blessing of the divine, Princess Celicia is nothing more than a lamb waiting to be slaughtered! Fine, I’ll just stab her again!”
The maid tightened her grip on the dagger and pulled…
Hmm?
Why isn’t it moving?
The maid looked down at Mu’en in confusion, only to notice faint golden light shimmering on the spot where the dagger had pierced his lavish clothing, tightly gripping the blade.
“It’s this outfit… It’s unusual.”
The maid scoffed dismissively.
As the son of a duke, it’s not surprising he’d have some life-saving gear. But even if it’s special… it’s just a piece of clothing. How long can it hold me back?
The maid summoned all her strength and, as expected, swiftly pulled the dagger out.
But the dagger felt a little strange…
“Huh?”
The maid stared dumbfoundedly at the blade.
The dagger still gleamed, sharp as ever.
But…
“Where’s my fire?”
That giant ball of sacred fire bestowed by the divine—where the hell did it go?
