Chapter 58

“…Matthias?”

Odelliana’s voice wavered, barely above a whisper.

Matthias moved with unhurried precision, dropping the corpse at his feet as if it were nothing more than a discarded object. His expression remained eerily composed, his hands unsoiled despite the unmistakable stench of death clinging to him.

Odelliana’s breath caught as her gaze fell upon the lifeless body.

She doubted her own eyes.

The corpse sprawled before her—could it really be someone she knew?

The lips, torn in a deep, grotesque gash, had not yet gone cold. The remnants of warmth clinging to the body suggested that the life had been snuffed out mere moments ago.

Her mind reeled with unspoken questions—how had Matthias found the missing Adella? How had he brought her here? How had he done it so swiftly?

But before she could speak, Matthias did.

“Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” he murmured.

Odelliana swallowed hard, her fingers curling at her sides.

“This is my answer, Master.”

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, then knelt before her with practiced grace. Reaching for her hand, he cradled it gently in his own before pressing a brief, reverent kiss to the back of her palm.

“Master,” he said, his voice calm, unwavering. “Whether it’s one life or a hundred, it makes no difference to me. Life holds no weight. No meaning. The only thing that matters is whether you desire it.”

His grip tightened—firm, but never forceful.

“Every decision is yours alone to make. I am simply the one who will carry it out.”

Odelliana’s breath hitched.

“All you need to do,” Matthias murmured, “is give the order.”

The burden of blood was his alone to bear.

Rising to his feet, he pressed the sole of his boot against Adella’s corpse—deliberate, unhurried. The act should have been vulgar, obscene. But somehow, even in desecration, Matthias carried an air of elegance, of quiet reverence twisted into something terrifying.

He met her gaze.

“Does my answer satisfy you, Master?”

He had not answered with words, but with action.

A silent vow, sealed in blood.

A declaration of his willingness to be used, to be wielded like a blade.

A promise—unspoken yet absolute—that he would endure, even if it meant being drained to the very last drop.

“I’ve said this before, Master.” Matthias’s voice was steady, unyielding. “You brought me here, promising to take responsibility for my life.”

Odelliana remained silent, the weight of his words settling heavily in the air between them.

“So all you need to do is follow through,” he continued. “Your circumstances, your struggles, your weakness—none of it matters to me. As long as you stay by my side, that is enough.”

“…Matthias.” Her voice barely carried.

“You must never let me go, no matter what happens.” His eyes darkened with intensity. “A promise to take responsibility for someone’s life—that’s what it truly means.”

The room felt smaller, as though the walls were closing in.

“And you needn’t feel guilty for wielding me as your sword,” he murmured. “This is the path I have chosen, and it is the greatest honor I could ever ask for.”

Despite his youth, his words carried an unwavering conviction, a weight far beyond his years. His devotion wasn’t mere loyalty—it was blind faith, fervent worship teetering on the edge of obsession.

Odelliana swallowed hard.

It was both reassuring and deeply unsettling.

For the first time, she understood what it meant to be a god—revered by a disciple whose faith would never waver.

“…Why?” she whispered. “Why would you go this far for me?”

Matthias tilted his head slightly, as if the question itself was strange.

Jocelyn had once put a collar around a beast but failed to tame it. Yet this boy—this young beast before her—had shackled himself willingly, offering his blade, his blood, his entire existence with unwavering devotion.

She hesitated.

Then, the realization struck her.

Ah.

She saw it. The reflection of herself, long ago.

A young knight, once blindly loyal to Jocelyn.

She, too, had once thrown herself into the flames, believing one man was her entire world.

The memories surged forth, vivid as if they had happened only yesterday.

“The first person who ever reached out to me.” Matthias’s voice was quiet but unwavering.

“That alone is reason enough for my loyalty,” he added, his gaze steady.

She closed her eyes.

The memories surged, spreading like ink bleeding across parchment. No matter how she tried to push them away, they seeped through the cracks.

〈Lelusha, why do you go so far? I told you to be more careful with yourself. Why do this—why for me?〉

Jocelyn had once been the first to reach out to her, too.

That was how it had begun—how she had sworn a lifetime of loyalty.

He had given her so much.

As a prince of the kingdom, he was a man of power and wealth. By his side, she no longer had to starve. No longer had to fight lowly thugs in the streets, bleeding just to survive. No longer had to spend her nights sleeping in the dirt on endless campaigns.

A proper home. A title. A future.

A life of abundance.

He had given her all of it.

…But I have nothing to give you in return.

She glanced at Matthias, the boy who looked at her as if she were his entire world.

To be treated as someone precious—yet to have nothing to offer in return—it was humbling. A realization that settled heavily in her chest.

“I’ll… make sure to repay you,” she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

Matthias tilted his head slightly before responding, his tone calm. “For what?”

“For everything.” Her fingers curled slightly at her sides. “I’ll return it all to you—no, even more than what you’ve given me.”

A slow chuckle escaped him. He nodded, his lips curving into a faint, knowing smile.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, Master.”

***

Matthias disposed of Adella’s corpse himself.

No one had discovered what he had done the night before. Just like that, Adella—who had died without a sound—vanished into the depths of the underground, erased as if she had never existed.

Despite Malena’s concerns, the following day passed without incident. Jocelyn made no effort to investigate the previous night’s events, and the commotion settled as though nothing had ever happened. While Odelliana maintained her usual composure, Malena remained on edge for the next few days before finally regaining some semblance of calm.

Meanwhile, Matthias grew increasingly absent, preoccupied with his impending departure to join the Schaller Knights. He frequently met with Adolf Schaller, leaving early in the morning with Blair and returning only late at night to report on the progress of their plans.

One evening, as the three of them gathered in Odelliana’s chamber, Matthias laid out the final details.

“So… we’re slipping away past midnight, four days from now?” Odelliana asked, her fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of her chair.

Matthias nodded. “Yes. I’ve arranged all the necessary supplies for the journey, including a carriage. We’ve secured the safest route to Eisenwald, and the trip should take about a week.”

She studied him carefully. His preparations weren’t just thorough—they were excessive, bordering on obsessive. He had accounted for every possible outcome, every obstacle they might encounter. He wasn’t merely ensuring their escape. He was securing their future.

“You’ve been keeping busy, haven’t you?” she murmured, a faint trace of amusement in her voice.

Malena crossed her arms, raising a skeptical brow. “It looks like he’s willingly making things harder for himself. He’s gone overboard—way too overboard—with the preparations.”

Matthias met her gaze without a flicker of hesitation. “Better overprepared than underprepared.”

Odelliana exhaled quietly, then turned her attention to Malena, her voice softening.

“…And you? Have you made up your mind?”

There was an uncharacteristic tension in her words. She wasn’t simply asking—she was hoping.

Because she wanted Malena to come with her.

More than just being competent, Malena was the only person, aside from Matthias, whom she could truly rely on. After everything they had been through together, Odelliana had grown deeply attached to her. She valued Malena’s blunt honesty, the rare ease in their conversations. Speaking to her never felt like giving orders to a subordinate—it felt like speaking to a friend.

“What do you want me to do?”

Odelliana hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice quieter than before. “I know it’s selfish of me, but… I want you to come with me.”

Malena didn’t even blink. “Then I’ll go.”

“…Really?”

Odelliana’s expression brightened in surprise, but Malena’s tone remained as indifferent as ever.

“It’s not that difficult. Besides, this is easier than mercenary work.”

Relief flooded Odelliana’s chest. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Malena replied with a shrug. “I’m just choosing what’s best for myself—the pay is better than my usual jobs, after all.”

“Even so, thank you,” Odelliana insisted. “Leaving behind everything you’ve built here isn’t an easy decision. But knowing you’ll be there… makes me feel a lot more at ease.”

She meant every word. For a mercenary to carve out a reputation in the capital—especially as a woman—required extraordinary skill and resilience. Malena had undoubtedly fought tooth and nail to secure her place. Even if she dismissed her decision as mere practicality, abandoning the familiarity of the capital for the unknown was no trivial matter.

Before they could continue their discussion, a commotion erupted outside.

Then—bang!

The door was flung open with such force that it slammed against the wall.

Heavy footsteps stormed toward them, each one radiating fury. It was clear—this was no guest.

Odelliana barely had time to register the blur of movement before—smack!

A sharp sting exploded across her cheek, snapping her head to the side.

“…What the hell?” she muttered, pressing a hand to the burning flesh.

Odette stood before her, seething with rage. Her hand was already raised for another strike, but this time, Malena was faster. She intercepted Odette’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

“Let go,” Odette snarled. “How dare you lay a hand on her?”

Malena’s voice was like ice. “…Violence is not permitted, little miss.”

“I said, let go.”

Odelliana let out a slow breath, piecing together the reason behind Odette’s outburst. It wasn’t difficult to figure out.

Jocelyn.

Who else?

Odette’s fury bubbled over as she spat out her accusation like venom. “You filthy whore.”

Ah. So that was it.

She had come to some very colorful conclusions.

The sheer absurdity of it almost made Odelliana laugh.

How utterly ridiculous. Did she truly think she would covet a man she wouldn’t even take for free? A loyal little guard dog, frothing at the mouth over imagined betrayal.

How ironic.

In her past life, it had been the mistress who smiled in triumph while the wife was forced to submit. But now, the roles had reversed.

The once-gloating mistress now trembled with rage, convinced that her beloved had been stolen from her.

Odelliana suddenly lost all desire to correct the misunderstanding.

No… perhaps she would indulge it.

Lifting her chin, she regarded Odette with a slow, deliberate smile.

“So…” she drawled, tilting her head. “Word has already spread that I dragged your fiancé into my bed?”