Chapter 53
At the end of the world, not even the sound of a night bird could be heard.
During the long story told by Duke Bartholomew, two days and two nights passed.
As the days went by, the number of eyes watching the witch’s hideout steadily grew. The night deepened, entangled with countless emotions and motives.
Cecil and the Duke stood at the edge of the cliff.
The fierce wind whipped at their hair and cloaks.
Cecil peered down into the gaping maw of the cliff. Below was an abyss of never-ending darkness.
At the end of the world, there was an eternal cliff. No one knew what lay at the bottom.
Some speculated it was the gateway to another world—or even hell.
Cecil turned to look at Duke Bartholomew.
“According to our research, this is the only place where Nibelung can be destroyed.”
His voice was calm and composed.
“If we abandon the artifact here, no one will ever find it. It’ll be buried in eternal darkness.”
Cecil’s hand, clutching Nibelung, trembled faintly.
‘If I throw it away now… there’s no turning back.’
For the past ten years, it had been like an extension of her body. She had never once been separated from it.
‘But… I can do it now.’
Because now, she had a family.
The Duke gave her a solemn nod, as if to encourage her.
Cecil took a deep breath and extended her arm holding Nibelung over the cliff.
It was at that moment.
Thud!
It took her a moment to register the sensation as pain. She hadn’t imagined such agony would strike at this time, in this place, in this situation.
A powerful spell pierced through her body. It was a searing pain, as if her whole being were on fire, and her nerves screamed in protest.
She could barely see or hear, but even so, she didn’t let go of Nibelung.
A firm hand caught her, keeping her from falling over the cliff’s edge.
“This is… the ‘family’ you promised me?”
A hollow laugh escaped her lips. How foolish she had been.
To think—if only for a moment—that she could truly have a family.
How laughable.
She laughed out loud, but no sound reached her ears. Her mind was consumed by ringing and phantom echoes.
Before the Duke could seize the ring, she shoved it into her mouth and swallowed it.
“Even if you kill me, you won’t get Nibelung.”
Her strained laughter wouldn’t stop. Hot tears streamed down her burning cheeks.
“I curse you forever, Bartholomew. Let’s meet in hell—where true villains belong.”
Cecil could feel her life force fading. She closed her eyes as darkness overtook her.
And in that moment, an ancient spell long prepared was activated, using her very life as the sacrifice.
Cecil opened her eyes.
‘Where am I…? The end of the world…?’
The dream had been so long and vivid that for a moment she couldn’t grasp where she was.
She wiped her tears with her sleeve. The fabric was soaked, showing how much she’d cried in her sleep.
Once her tears were gone, her vision cleared, and she took in her surroundings.
It wasn’t the end of the world, nor the Bartholomew estate. It was an unfamiliar room.
It was well-kept, tidy, and though not luxurious, the furniture was neat and refined.
‘Right… I escaped from the Duke’s estate, but I lost control of Nibelung… I nearly attacked a child before collapsing.’
As she retraced her memories, she recalled why she might be here.
‘The last thing I remember was that child looking back at me… So, this must be that child’s house.’
Cecil struggled to remember. The pain she’d felt was so great that everything else was fuzzy.
‘But that kid… they seemed kind of familiar.’
[Cecil! Are you alright?]
Nibelung’s urgent voice rang in her head.
‘Shut up. You’re hurting my ears—don’t make a fuss.’
[How can I not fuss in a situation like this? Are you okay? I was really worried! But there’s something more important—]
Though only Cecil could hear him, Nibelung lowered his voice.
[Cecil, we have a problem. And not a small one either.]
‘What now? If it’s not something huge, I swear—’
Since Nibelung was always so dramatic, Cecil responded flatly. Honestly, what could be worse than being kicked out of the Bartholomew estate?
[Well, you see, the place you’re in right now is…]
Just then—
Bang!
The door burst open without so much as a knock.
“You’re awake.”
A languid voice made Cecil turn her head.
And what she saw—she never expected to meet him in a situation like this.
No—he was the last person she wanted to meet in such a situation.
A boy stood at the doorway.
Eleven, maybe twelve years old?
His hair and lashes were a flowing, silvery-white, like strands of spun silver.
His skin was paler than anyone she had ever seen, and his entire demeanor gave off a lazy, detached vibe.
But his eyes—his deep red eyes—were piercing. Even at his young age, there was a sharpness to his gaze that made him impossible to underestimate.
He was, without question, a stunning boy destined to become an even more extraordinary man.
“You passed out out of nowhere and slept for over a day.”
He leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“You don’t seem physically injured. Do you have narcolepsy or something?”
Cecil recognized him instantly.
Even after twenty years, his distinctive appearance hadn’t changed enough to be mistaken.
And with that, shock gripped her.
‘Valentine Kerberios!’
Valentine Kerberios—Cecil’s most dreaded person in this life.
The prophesied holy knight born to save a world steeped in corruption and decay.
A holy knight and a witch were natural enemies—opposites in every way.
And if he lived here…
‘Could this place be…?’
He had been raised in the Grand Temple since infancy. Which meant—
‘The Grand Temple!’
The religious capital of the empire, where black magic was strictly forbidden.
The very place that forced her to hide her identity as a dark mage.
Cecil now found herself in the heart of enemy territory—alongside its greatest prodigy.
‘This is like escaping a tiger’s den only to fall into a lion’s pride.’
A cold sweat ran down her spine, but she forced herself to remain calm.
‘Get a grip. Even if a lion’s got you in its jaws, if you keep your wits about you, you might survive. I’m the great dark mage Cecil. I can talk my way out of anything.’
With that thought, she smiled as if nothing was wrong.
“Thanks for saving me. I was on my way to a friend’s place and must’ve overexerted myself.”
Valentine looked at her with a suspicious gaze far too sharp for his age.
“On your way to a friend’s?”
His voice was clearly doubtful.
Cecil knew that in times like this, the only solution was to act shamelessly.
“Yeah. It was a long journey. I think I pushed myself too hard.”
Still eyeing her skeptically, Valentine tossed something at her—it was a change of clothes and a towel.
“Go wash up first.”
He said it in the most unkindly kind tone possible.
Only then did Cecil recall she had rolled around in mud. Sand and grit fell from her hair and clothes.
The room had a small adjoining bathroom. Lukewarm water had already been prepared, and she used it to bathe.
‘Is there any way to escape from here?’
Even while washing, she searched for an escape route—but found none. The bathroom offered no possible exit.
Eventually, she gave up on fleeing, finished bathing, changed clothes, and returned to the bedroom.
Valentine stood exactly where she had left him, still leaning in the same pose, waiting.
Cecil greeted him with her most pleasant tone.
“So, can I go now? My friend’s probably really worried.”
