MLHRGD 72

#72 Aftermath (2)

“Acting all triumphant like you own the place… wiping out all my traces and turning the whole castle upside down…”

A metallic, sharp-edged voice cut through the air.

“And my dear little nephew, the one I want to chew up and swallow, is still alive.”

Twisted lips moved slightly.

A faint beam of light leaked into the darkness, spilling onto the man’s head.

His face came into view.

“While I live like this, they…”

His skin was blackened, covered in scars from burns and whip lashes.

His nose was smashed flat, barely holding shape, and under his burned-off eyebrows were sunken eyes, bruised red and blue.

“…I want to drag them into this pit as fast as possible.”

His face was more like a monster’s than a human’s, hideously distorted.

Anyone who had known him before would never believe it—
this monster-like man was once called Count Tula.

But now, he was a criminal who couldn’t reveal his name anywhere.

People believed Gregory Volkov had died years ago doing hard labor, his body thrown off a cliff.

“Worse than dogs.”

Once, Count Tula’s face had been handsome, kind, and generous in expression.
But years of hard labor had changed it completely—into something too grotesque to look at.

“Those who couldn’t even straighten their backs in front of me, swearing loyalty, now serve them instead? Filthy swine that grunt like pigs just for some feed!”

Gregory Volkov swore in his grating voice as he raged over the news from Bellicordo Castle, brought to him by a spy.

Then—

“Please be patient, Count.”

A soft voice called from behind him.

Gregory didn’t move.

“Oh my, have your already-small ears closed up completely?”

Click, click.

Light footsteps drew closer, and the woman’s voice grew louder.

The mocking woman stepped into view before Gregory.

The light revealed her face—
delicate, pretty features, a slender neck, an elegant posture.

But months of hardship had dulled her beauty; she no longer looked as lovely as before.
Instead, she gave off a sly, eerie aura that sent shivers down the spine.

Still, compared to Gregory, she looked far better.

Anyone who had known her before would still recognize her.

Gregory called her name irritably:

“Lysa Goriki.”

Lysa was the only daughter of Marquis Goriki, pampered and adored.

The Goriki family, trusted vassals of the Volkov Grand Duke’s family, had grown even more prosperous with each generation.

An honorable and wealthy house.
A kind, dignified father.
A beautiful, refined mother.
Relatives eager to curry favor for scraps of benefit.

With no siblings, Lysa had received all the adults’ love from birth.

People envied her, calling her lucky.
Lysa thought so too—
and believed her lucky, happy days would last forever.

But—

“Criminals, come out and face your punishment!”

In an instant, her family was destroyed.

From the direct line to distant relatives, most were executed or dragged to the distant borders for hard labor.

Those underage avoided heavy sentences, but that didn’t mean they lived well.

Lysa Goriki and other young relatives were sent near the frozen lands.

There, the once-noble daughter of a marquis was treated worse than a commoner, forced to work endlessly.

It was a life hard to endure with a sane mind.

Just as she was about to bite her tongue and die, she happened to find a “relic.”

She pulled it from the mud, and the moment it touched her hand, it shone brightly.

“Ah!”

Startled, Lysa tried to drop it, but it clung to her hand as if glued.

“What! Let go!”

She shook her hand, but the relic only shone brighter.

“Ah.”

Light wrapped around her.

Her vision turned white, making her frown—
but then her eyes opened wide.

Scenes appeared before her eyes, vivid as reality.

‘What is this?’

At first, she didn’t understand. But watching quietly, she realized.

It was the future.

More precisely, the future as it should have been—unchanged by the unwelcome arrival of “Alexandra Arvan.”

“…Me? The Grand Duchess?”

Lysa repeated in shock the “future” the relic showed her.

In that future, she was engaged to Pavel Volkov.

Her sickly, ill-tempered fiancé and she didn’t get along.
She cried daily, begging to break off the engagement.

The Marchioness Mariya comforted her, saying the engagement would end naturally if the Grand Duke’s son died.

Lysa only wished for her fiancé’s death.

But Pavel Volkov stubbornly survived.
He came close to death several times but lived—until adulthood.

Gaunt to the bone, he held his coming-of-age ceremony.

And then—

“Ahh! The Grand Duke’s son is on fire!”

Somehow, flames engulfed Pavel’s entire body.

The smell of burning flesh was horrible. Lysa covered her nose and thought—
even this man with a stubborn life couldn’t survive this.

But Pavel survived again—this time with horrific burn scars all over his body.

“I don’t want to marry such a monster!”

But despite her feelings, the long engagement turned into serious marriage talks after adulthood.

Lysa went on a hunger strike, but the marriage couldn’t be stopped.

“Endure. If you bear it, an opportunity will come.”

She hated it.

But for her family’s sake, she sacrificed herself—
and tearfully married Pavel Volkov.

As expected, married life was awful.

On the wedding night, her husband didn’t even come to the bridal room.

Of course, even if he had, she would have avoided him—
but being cold to him was different from being ignored by him.

As a disliked Grand Duchess, she wasn’t treated well in Bellicordo Castle.

“How dare they drag me here and not treat me properly!”

She was furious.

She also hated her father-in-law, Grand Duke Dmitri Volkov, who was cold and indifferent, never asking if she was doing well.

Ignored by her father-in-law, her husband, and the servants, Lysa cried into her pillow every night.

She wanted to go back—to being the beloved marquis’s daughter.

But soon, she received good news twice in a row.

First, Dmitri Volkov died in battle.
Less than a year after her marriage, Lysa became the Grand Duchess of Volkov.

Grand Duchess!

No woman in the north was higher in rank.

Then, soon after Dmitri’s funeral, her husband Pavel died in battle too!

Lysa barely hid her joy as the knight delivered the news.

Ah, so enduring really did bring opportunity.

By enduring the shame of marrying that monster, she now had sweet results.

The north was hers.

But at the peak of her happiness—

“Ah?”

Her vision returned to normal.

She screamed at the relic to show her the “future” again.

“Show me again! Again!”

But the relic, which had moved on its own before, stayed silent.

Grinding her teeth, she fiddled with it, but not knowing what it was, she couldn’t control it.

She stared blankly at nothing, replaying the “future” over and over in her mind.

At first, she felt regret.
Then, it turned into something else.
Finally, only anger remained.

“That’s how it was supposed to be! That was my rightful future!”

Yes. That was the future she should have had.

But—

“Alexandra Arvan! Because of that woman!”

Lysa believed Sasha had destroyed her family and reduced her to this miserable state.

The Goriki family all believed the same—that Sasha had fabricated evidence to frame them.

They never thought they were guilty or deserved punishment.

“She stole my place and turned me into this!”

Splat!

She punched the mud, splashing slime onto her own face.

From her dirt-stained face, fierce eyes shone with resentment.

“I have to return everything to how it was…”

Muttering as if possessed, Lysa gripped the relic tightly.

“With this, I can do it.”

To find this relic in such a remote, shabby place…
To see the “future” through it…

It must mean the heavens pitied her and gave her a new chance.

Lysa Goriki believed she was chosen by God, and the “future” she saw was divine revelation.

And indeed, as if proving her right, the relic gave her the chance to overturn everything.

Using some of the “future” information, she first escaped the place where she was worked like a slave.

She found hidden ruins to gather funds.

And she gained a pawn to move in her stead—
a man once bowed to by even her parents, now a lowly prisoner, Count Tula.

She found Gregory Volkov, rotting away, and used the relic to save him.

The relic didn’t just show her the “future”—
sometimes, if she was lucky, it gave her abilities to perform great magic beyond a normal human’s dreams.

Bringing the dead back to life was not impossible—for one chosen by God.

“I told you, the ‘future’ is in my hands.”

Lysa smiled slyly.

“But I’m impatient too. I want to deal with the woman who stole my place as soon as possible—”

“Then shut up and just tell me what to do.”

Telling her to shut up yet talk—nonsense.

Lysa snorted in amusement, then said:

“Fine. Let’s follow the revelation at once.”

Gregory Volkov’s eyes glinted strangely.

At the same time—

Grrr—

A beast’s roar echoed around them.