CHAPTER 49……..
Even memories one desperately wants to hold onto are eventually forgotten.
Some people forget because they’re simply too busy.
Others forget because they only look ahead toward a new goal.
Asilia was the latter.
Yes, that’s what she must have been.
“And what reason do you have to get stronger?”
“To kill you.”
Asilia glared at Maemon as she spoke.
“No, no! Damn it. You wretched lowborn!”
“I am a noble lady of the Duchy of Clomeus! I am not a lowborn!”
Asilia’s voice rose so much that veins stood out in her neck. But Maemon only ruffled his hair in irritation.
“Damn brat. Must be the divine power—my brainwashing doesn’t work on you.”
Maemon stroked his chin and studied Asilia.
Until now, most people were easy to control—just rob them of something precious, or fill them with hatred for revenge, and their minds would be yours.
But it didn’t work on Asilia.
She never swore absolute loyalty. She never forgot that she was a daughter of Clomeus.
“I didn’t want to go this far with my little one, but… it can’t be helped.”
At his clap, a knight waiting outside stepped in.
“Send her to the trainee corps.”
“Who… Y-you mean—the Lady of Clomeus?!”
“Lady? Was there a Duke of Clomeus in Revilla?”
“N-no, sir!”
“Send her. Treat her exactly like the others. I don’t care if she breaks or loses limbs—just keep her alive.”
From that day on, Asilia endured brutal training.
She wanted to collapse. To quit and lie down. But she didn’t.
She believed—if she became stronger, if she survived this, she could kill him.
So she endured.
Through the months of sickness and vomiting, through the brutal life of a trainee that broke so many others.
“I will now announce the dropouts.”
Two years had passed since she began.
For the first time, they would decide who passed as knights and who would be dismissed.
Everyone’s eyes blazed.
Every person here hated someone enough to kill them.
They were willing to burn their own lives to drag that enemy into the depths of hell.
And every one of their enemies was a knight of Revilla.
Once you became a knight, you could issue a formal duel challenge—a legal chance for revenge.
They had all worked themselves half to death for that one chance.
Oswald, standing on the platform, called out loudly:
“Matthew, Thomas, Ayan… dropped!”
The dropouts wouldn’t even get that chance.
Their enemies were right in front of them, yet they could do nothing.
“Dispose of them.”
But that wasn’t the end.
With a curt order, the knights drew their swords and stepped toward the dropouts.
“W-what are you…?”
Asilia’s eyes went wide.
No. Surely not.
“If that was all the strength you could muster when your target for revenge was right in front of you…”
Oswald looked at the dropouts as if they were worms.
“…then you don’t deserve revenge.”
With those short words, the blades flashed.
“No…”
She had spent so long with them.
They were people who could still smile brightly, people who carried deep wishes in their hearts.
“No!”
Asilia ran.
She had to stop this.
These were not just people seeking revenge—they had dreams of living happily. They couldn’t die here like this.
“No!!”
Her scream tore at her throat.
But her voice never reached the heavens.
Their bodies crumpled, and their gathered hopes scattered into the air.
“Next, the dropouts are…”
No one even looked at the disappearing bodies.
“…Asilia.”
Her name landed among the dropouts.
Oswald’s sharp gaze locked on her.
Why… am I here?
Was it just to die like this?
Was this all I was worth?
The questions barely formed when—
“Got you.”
A chilling laugh brushed her ear.
Oswald’s voice—something about calling the wrong name among the passers—barely registered.
And just like that, Asilia lost her memories.
The greenery of Clomeus she’d once thought beautiful.
The man named Kretes who had reached out to her in her pain.
The names of those who had vanished like morning dew before achieving their dreams.
“Among this batch of commoner trainees, there is one who may take the knight’s oath.”
Lies.
“Asilia.”
Nothing followed her name.
As if Clomeus had never even existed.
“Congratulations,” Oswald said.
And beside him, a man—Envy Tassion—smiled.
Asilia wasn’t even given the chance to remember anything.
Not even who her true enemy was.
Asilia bowed her head deeply.
The flood of returning memories felt far too foreign to be hers.
“Lies…”
She couldn’t say anything else.
She couldn’t believe any of it—nor did she want to.
It was too cruel, too merciless.
“Come now, that’s not the reaction I’m looking for, Asilia. You know what you should be saying.”
Envy spoke.
Slowly raising her head, Asilia met his gaze.
How could she ever forget these eyes?
Tall, broad-shouldered—Maemon Tassion. At the moment she’d been granted the right to become a knight, he had appeared in the form of Envy Tassion.
Even though it was her first time seeing that face, she knew.
This was the man who had killed her parents.
How could she have sworn loyalty to him for over ten years?
“You…”
The long-buried hatred began to rise.
All those years of smiling at her parents’ killer.
Obeying his orders just to survive.
Striving for his recognition.
It all felt worthless—meaningless.
“If you were human, how could you…”
Asilia staggered to her feet.
Her hand found her sword, and she slowly drew it.
She had to kill him.
Only by killing this man—whose true name she didn’t even know—would her true task be complete.
“Tsk, this one’s broken too? I thought a ‘keystone’ might finally be someone who could break the seal. Well, how strong can a god’s child be, when they were killed by mere humans?”
Envy sighed deeply and stood.
“Die!”
Asilia lunged, screaming—but when Envy spoke a single word in an unknown tongue, all her strength drained away.
“Ah, right. I should make sure the next one knows not to do this.”
“…Envy Tassion!”
Collapsing to the floor, Asilia barely propped herself up on her sword.
But she couldn’t move her body freely.
“Isaiah Hisklear. Come down here.”
Envy spoke into the empty air, certain his voice would reach.
“So that’s how you used people?”
“I merely gathered useless ones and made them into knights. I let them contribute to the nation’s survival—shouldn’t they consider it an honor?”
“…You lunatic.”
Envy had no concept of guilt.
If he did, he’d never have come this far.
Asilia bowed her head.
In the end, she couldn’t do anything on her own.
Not discovering the truth, not killing Envy Tassion.
Not avenging her parents, nor seeking her own happiness.
She couldn’t do anything alone.
“Help me.”
A face came to mind.
A man with golden eyes, looking at the world with no expression.
The one man who could cut away her long-standing hatred.
Only one person could do that.
“Kretes.”
The moment she spoke his name, the room was plunged into darkness.
Envy glanced around in alarm—only to find Kretes, wearing Isaiah’s face, standing behind him.
The door hadn’t opened. No footsteps had sounded.
Like a shadow, like death itself, he had appeared in an instant.
Kretes smiled, but it was an expression she had never seen before—he was angry.
“Oh, you came. I wonder why it suddenly got so dark.”
Envy clicked his tongue. Then he snatched the sword from Asilia’s hands and said:
“Watch closely, Sir Hisklear.”
“…”
“This is what happens when you fail your final mission.”
Envy stepped to Asilia’s side without hesitation and swung the blade toward her neck—
“It seems you don’t understand the situation.”
Kretes tilted his head.
From the darkened walls, sharp spikes shot out—
Thwuck!
—and pierced Envy’s chest.
