Chapter: 21
“Kugh!”
Claude’s breath caught in his throat. His body staggered violently once.
He tried to brace himself by using his sword as a cane, but as the pain grew sharper, he finally sank to his knees.
The red aura that had stained the blade scattered into the air and vanished.
No way… this is—!
It felt as if his heart had been thrown into a blast furnace, his entire body burning from the inside out. Pain he had never experienced before clouded Claude’s mind.
Damn it—why now, of all times!
After the crushing pain in his chest came a headache that felt like needles stabbing into his skull. Nausea surged up, and he clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Looks like there was another one after all?”
He forced his eyes open. When his unfocused vision finally aligned, the assassin was already right in front of him, wearing a nasty smile.
Claude tried to tighten his grip on the sword, but his body refused to respond under the relentless pain.
“You know, I still have the perfect option of taking your head to him right now.”
The man raised his sword high with both hands, ready to strike at any moment.
The blade, brimming with killing intent, glinted—and in Claude’s mind, the most vivid moment of his life flashed past.
Red roses. The scent of early summer. Dazzling sunlight. And a shy smile wrapped in all of it…
Jeanne.
Crash!
Just before the assassin could bring the sword down, the terrace window shattered into pieces.
At the deafening sound, both men turned their heads at the same time.
The center of the curtain hanging by the terrace was torn into a crescent shape, and through the gap, a dark figure appeared.
Claude recognized who it was from the silhouette alone.
His eyes went wide as he lifted his head, unable to take his gaze off Jeanne.
How did she get here…?
He had never intended to involve her in this operation—not even a little. That was why, the moment he saw her, time seemed to slow. Shocked, and in the midst of it all, foolishly happy.
The full moon that had been hidden behind clouds emerged, bathing the surroundings in light.
With the cool breeze, Jeanne’s moonlit hair fluttered toward him. Her green eyes, like deep forest shade, shone clear and intense even in this blood-soaked night.
Jeanne fixed the assassin with a blade-sharp glare. Along with her killing intent, lightning-like aura and wind-like divine power faintly spilled out.
Some of the divine power scattered through the air and touched Claude. At that instant, it felt as though water had been poured over his blazing heart—the fire began to subside.
Could it be…?
Claude hurriedly circulated his own divine power through his body. As if by a lie, the pain that had been tormenting him calmed down.
So the cause of that pain really was…
Just as Claude let out a breath, crunch—Jeanne stepped down on the broken glass and kicked off the floor without a moment’s hesitation.
“W-What the—!”
The assassin quickly turned toward the terrace and regripped his sword, but Jeanne had already closed the distance and swung hers.
Against a weapon imbued with aura, the assassin’s blade was no better than a wooden practice sword. His sword snapped cleanly in two, like paper being torn.
For a brief moment, the assassin stared dumbfounded at the hilt left in his hand. Then he threw it aside and turned to flee through the opposite door.
Claude quickly grabbed the broken sword hilt that had fallen near him and hurled it at the assassin.
“Urgh!”
The fragment struck the man squarely in the elbow. As he faltered, Jeanne twisted her body and kicked his neck hard with her right leg.
With a dull thud, the assassin collapsed face-first onto the floor, limp as a fallen log.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
Even after time passed, he didn’t get up. If his back hadn’t been rising and falling, one might have thought his neck had snapped.
Meanwhile, Jeanne swept her gaze over the other intruders lying around, then slid her sword back into its sheath.
Worried another seizure might strike, Claude straightened his knees and stood up.
“Jea—”
He was about to ask how she had gotten in, but stopped short. Her emerald eyes were glaring at him as if they might devour him.
“Hey, you idiot!”
As if she’d been holding it in, Jeanne shouted.
“No matter how strong you are, this is way too careless! No night guards at all, and all the lights are out!”
“Wait, calm down—”
“Calm down, my ass! Are you advertising that Loren Castle welcomes assassins anytime? Might as well build a monument for them right here!”
Apparently having completely misunderstood, she strode up to him and unleashed a barrage—idiot, moron, dumbass. She was clearly angry, and yet… even that felt good.
Her face, flushed with anger, was simply beautiful. And besides, scolding him was proof that she wasn’t indifferent to him.
I really am an idiot.
Even though she meant it differently.
Once he admitted that to himself, Claude couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.
“…You’re laughing?”
Jeanne smacked his shoulder hard with her palm, looking incredulous.
“You think this is funny? I’m being serious here—!”
“Ow.”
“Of course it hurts! I hit you to make it hurt!”
“Is it really okay for a new recruit to treat the commander like this?”
“I’m hitting you as a friend!”
She hit him a couple more times, then shook her hand as if it hurt her instead.
“Uselessly sturdy body.”
“That’s a compliment, right?”
“It’s an insult!”
Having said everything she wanted to say, she let out a long sigh to cool her temper and faced him squarely.
Then Jeanne tilted her head, looking puzzled.
“But… are you hurt somewhere?”
It felt like someone had poked the back of his neck with a needle. Claude deliberately raised his voice a notch, pretending not to understand.
“Why?”
“It looked like you were struggling against just one assassin, and your complexion was—”
Her round green eyes carefully scanned his face. Then she stepped closer and placed a hand on his forehead.
“You don’t seem to have a fever…”
Claude flinched and froze in place. Her hand was colder than he expected, and her body was close enough to brush against his.
Just moments ago, his breathing had been ragged from the pain crushing his heart. Now, because she’d come so close without a clue, he couldn’t breathe properly for a completely different reason.
Jeanne was oblivious when it came to romantic feelings, but in situations like this, she was perceptive and observant. He needed a plausible excuse—and quickly.
It wasn’t time to tell her yet.
“It was part of the plan.”
Claude gently grasped her wrist and moved her hand away from his forehead.
“What plan?”
“To get revenge on the one responsible for killing the former Grand Duke and Duchess.”
Claude answered casually, as if it were someone else’s story. It was an old incident, and nearly resolved—he didn’t want Jeanne to take it too seriously.
Contrary to his wish, Jeanne looked genuinely shocked. The deep crease between her brows returned, but for a different reason.
“What are you talking about? Didn’t they die because of monsters?”
“They were attacked by monsters, yes. But there was someone else who led things to the worst possible outcome.”
“…Who?”
“The person who would benefit the most if I died right now.”
Claude answered vaguely, as if posing a riddle. Normally Jeanne would have scolded him for joking, but this time she fell silent and thought seriously.
“Count Pascal?”
Claude slowly nodded.
“For the record, you can drop the ‘Count.’ I stripped him of his title the day he came to the castle.”
“Then why didn’t you arrest him immediately?”
“He didn’t kill them directly.”
Jeanne tilted her head again, not quite understanding.
“Evidence surfaced that Pascal had been embezzling funds. The former Grand Duke and Duchess went out under the pretext of inspecting the territory to secure physical proof—and they found it. Even then, the former Grand Duke ordered Pascal’s title revoked and planned to formally announce it after returning to the castle. Do you think Pascal would just sit back and watch that happen?”
Jeanne stared at Claude without blinking.
“Pascal had someone tamper with the carriage wheels. Unaware of it, they were on their way back when the carriage overturned—and at that very moment, they encountered a high-ranking monster.”
Claude lowered his gaze and continued in a flat voice.
“Stripping him of his title wasn’t enough. But if I’d sentenced him to death over the carriage alone, Pascal’s retainers would have protested. They’d say the carriage repairman should be executed instead, that the former Grand Duke and Duchess were simply unlucky to run into a monster…”
“How can anyone say something so ridiculous…?”
“If they followed Pascal for years, they could—and would.”
“So you deliberately let assassins in?”
“If he tried to kill not only the former Grand Duke and Duchess, but the current Grand Duke as well, that would be a perfect justification for execution.”
After hearing the full plan, Jeanne let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.
“You…”
Her brows furrowed deeply, as if she were about to explode in anger again.
No matter that it was a plan—it was reckless. He should’ve had at least one guard. He could’ve died.
Claude prepared his excuses and waited for her words.
“When did you start planning this?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Claude hesitated, then answered.
“Before I reunited with you in the forest.”
“Then when you met me, you already knew your uncle had killed your parents?”
“….”
“Even the vice-commander and the first division commander didn’t seem to know.”
Wind rushed in like waves through the shattered window.
With the gale at her back, Jeanne gazed up at him silently for a while—then suddenly stepped forward, spread her arms wide, and hugged him.
Claude stiffened, completely unprepared.
“You idiot.”
Because of the height difference and Claude’s broad shoulders, her arms couldn’t fully wrap around him. It was less an embrace than Jeanne clinging to him.
“I bet you hid it because you couldn’t show weakness in front of your subordinates. Just like when your parents died.”
Even so, Claude felt as if he were leaning against a massive pillar.
“You should’ve told me at least. That’s what friends are for—being there in moments like this.”
Jeanne’s hand gently patted his back. Her touch was slow, soothing—yet the slower it was, the faster his heart raced, fast enough to scare him that she might notice.
You’re the real idiot—the one who doesn’t know anything.
The bitterness of his parents’ death still lingered, but the color of grief had long since faded. Even this incident felt like nothing more than finishing a long-overdue task.
What truly made him ache was Jeanne’s embrace.
For her, this was pure friendship. For him, it was a twisted affection.
With little time left, a demonic desire whispered in his ear—telling him to seize this chance, to crush her waist in his arms, lock her away somewhere hidden, and leave his marks all over her.
Claude slaughtered that temptation.
Because he had sworn it from the very beginning—when he first turned back time.
To build a safe haven for her here.
Nothing more.
Just that.
