Chapter : 43
<It is your share. Let the price be paid justly, Clemence!>
The voice she had heard earlier echoed in her head as if fragments of it had lodged deep within. It almost felt like she was hearing hallucinations.
Cassielope tried to ignore it, but the tone and message of that voice kept troubling her.
After much hesitation, she headed for the Imperial Palace.
‘Ian…?’
She froze when she saw Ian ahead.
It wasn’t like him to look around anxiously and hurry off somewhere in such a flustered state.
Though it was dark, she could see stains of blood on the lighter parts of his clothing.
He didn’t seem simply surprised — the anxious expression on his face made it clear that something had happened.
Waiting until he disappeared from view, Cassielope followed the path he had come from.
‘…Regis’s office?’
The door was tightly shut, as though something were being hidden inside.
“Ugh…”
A faint groan drifted through the chilly night air — unmistakably from within Regis’s office.
At the same time, a strong scent of blood wafted out from the crack in the door, and Cassielope instinctively pushed it open. The door was locked, but that didn’t stop her.
“…Regis?”
Had she known what was inside, she would never have done it.
The head of the figure standing inside turned toward her at the soft sound of his name.
Cassielope quickly backed away as the man began to stride toward her.
Her hand moved automatically toward the dagger she always carried for emergencies.
She didn’t take her eyes off the thing wearing Regis’s body — no, his shell.
‘The body is Regis.’
There was no doubt. It was Regis. But the thing inside him was not.
The clear blue eyes that should have shone with life were now dull and lifeless.
The moment those eyes recognized her, Regis drew his sword and charged without hesitation.
Countless thoughts tangled in Cassielope’s mind in an instant.
Should she attack? No—should she run?
He didn’t seem to be in his right mind. What in the world was happening?
Before she could decide, the blade came flying toward her — faster than her thoughts.
She barely managed to block it, unable even to think of knocking him unconscious.
“Regis…!”
“…”
“Regis Euriel!”
Nothing. He didn’t seem to hear her.
He charged again, as though his only purpose was slaughter.
Only one thought held her back.
‘Do I have to hurt him…?’
To stop him, she would have to strike him down.
This wasn’t a simple sparring match — his weapon was a longsword, hers a dagger.
If she lost control of the flow early on, she would be at a grave disadvantage.
“Get a hold of yourself, Regis Euriel.”
Hoping he would come to his senses, Cassielope called his name once more.
She had sworn to erase him from her life — but this was different.
“Don’t make me hurt you with my own hands, Regis…”
Her fading words sounded less like a warning and more like a plea.
A dagger was made for swift, close attacks — not prolonged defense. It was already becoming impossible to hold out any longer.
“Your… Majesty…?”
A breathless voice called out from behind. Cassielope glanced to the side and saw Ian, who must have rushed back.
“Ian, lock the door and—”
“Why in the world are you here, Your Majesty?!”
“Now’s not the time for that.”
Cassielope barely avoided another slash, her brow twitching in irritation.
That one had nearly been fatal.
“You need to get out of here. I’ll handle Regis.”
“No! You mustn’t, Your Majesty!”
“What…?”
She had told him to run — after all, Ian had no training in swordsmanship or combat. Staying here would only get him hurt.
But instead of fleeing, he stood firm — and even told her not to fight.
Cassielope stared at him in disbelief.
“The man before you is not the Duke Euriel you know, Your Majesty…!”
Regis’s sword shot toward Cassielope’s throat.
Clang!
She caught it just in time, twisting her blade to deflect it.
From behind her, Ian shouted, “You mustn’t get hurt! If he sees blood, he’ll go berserk!”
…He’ll go berserk if he sees blood? How could Ian possibly know that—
Before she could think, she was already parrying another strike. Cassielope jumped back to widen the distance.
“Normally, he should’ve regained his senses by now…” Ian muttered through clenched teeth.
Regis’s unfocused eyes suddenly turned. Cassielope realized too late that his gaze had locked onto Ian.
“Ian, move!”
She rushed after him, but the distance was already too great.
She threw her dagger toward Regis’s sword hand — the hilt struck perfectly, creating a brief opening. Just a split second, but enough.
“Y-Your Majesty…!”
Ian’s face went pale as Cassielope stepped between him and Regis.
Her dagger had fallen and rolled away, leaving her unarmed. Yet, Regis’s sword was stopped — caught in Cassielope’s bare hand.
Slice—
Blood dripped down her arm, pooling at her elbow before falling to the floor in red drops.
“Go now, Ian.”
“You’re hurt!”
“Does that matter right now?! If you don’t want to get hurt, leave!”
“Do you really think I would abandon my liege as bait?!”
Even as the blade dug deeper into her skin, Ian stubbornly argued back. Cassielope nearly screamed in frustration.
This was not how she had trained him.
‘I can’t hold on much longer.’
If this continued, her hand would be severed.
She was about to kick him away to force him out when—
“…Lope.”
Her grip loosened at the faint sound of Regis’s voice.
Her eyes flicked to him instinctively. One of his eyes — once crimson — had regained its original blue color.
The strength behind the blade vanished.
The sword twisted in her hand, turning halfway before embedding itself in Regis’s own shoulder.
“What… what is this…?”
“…”
“What are you doing…?” Cassielope whispered, blinking in disbelief.
He had driven his sword into himself.
Unable to comprehend, she looked into his pale blue eyes, trembling.
“I didn’t… want you to see… me like this…” Regis said weakly, forcing a small smile.
It was a fragile, heartbreaking smile — one that seemed to say he was sorry.
Why?
Why was he making that face?
As his rough, bloodstained hand cupped her cheek, her question melted away.
“I’m… sorry… so sorry…”
His touch was warm — not from life, but from the heat of the blood staining his hand red.
“Ugh…”
Knowing that leaving the sword in would hurt less, Regis still pulled it out. Blood gushed from his pierced shoulder.
Cassielope’s face crumpled as she watched, helpless.
Regis’s gaze, which had been repeating apologies, wavered with regret.
Unable to stand, his body finally collapsed forward — right into Cassielope’s arms.
He lost consciousness instantly.
Slowly, she looked down.
Her right hand, slashed and bloodied from blocking his sword, should have been in tatters — yet there was no trace of a wound. The injuries had vanished completely.
