Chapter 24: Not Pretending Anymore

Ivy was stunned by the slap, a buzzing ringing in her ears, but she still clearly heard what Flosi had just said.

Her whole body instantly tensed up, trembling—her conversation with Lia had been exposed?

Her hands clenched into fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, the sharp pain forcing Ivy out of the dizzy daze she had just been in.

Gritting her teeth, Ivy’s reason told her that at this moment, she could try to shift all the blame onto Lia. After all, she was just playing the victim; Lia was the one who had initiated contact with her.

If Flosi had been watching her from the start, she must have known the entire process of her interactions with Lia, most of which were initiated by Lia.

She had only been guiding things from the shadows.

Besides, she and Lia were from different races—one human, one bloodkin—naturally enemies.

For self-preservation, betraying Lia was only normal.

Yes, that’s it. Betray Lia. As long as she pinned all the faults on Lia, she could save herself.

Once she took that step, everything would get better.

Ivy told herself this in her heart.

She closed her eyes, seeming to make up her mind, and slowly spoke.

“Sorry, Master, all of this is my fault.”

“It has nothing to do with Lia.”

“I deliberately played the victim to make Lia trust me; she was only manipulated by me.”

Ivy seemed to have given up struggling, lowering her gaze. Her tightly clenched fists loosened, tears silently streaming down.

But her eyes held stubbornness and determination, a hint of fear—but there was no trace of terror or retreat.

“Hm, since it’s all your fault, I’ll kill you now. This is the price you have to pay.”

“Of course, you can change your words. If it’s Lia’s fault, I’ll kill Lia and let you live. How about that?”

Flosi’s voice sounded like a temptation, a demon’s whisper playing in Ivy’s mind.

Hope for survival, fear of death swirled deep inside Ivy’s heart.

Do you want to live?

Of course Ivy did. From the first day she crossed into this world, she had been struggling to survive.

For the sake of living, she had abandoned her dignity, thrown away her pride, unconditionally obeyed Flosi’s orders, without any bottom line.

Ivy thought of a word to describe herself: a complete and utter wretch.

But then, Ivy suddenly felt that maybe dying wasn’t such a big deal after all.

She didn’t want to betray her true self. She didn’t want those who cared for her to be hurt because of her.

She suddenly remembered a phrase she had thought of not long ago.

“I always end up depending on and growing fond of those who are kind to me and show me goodwill.”

“That kind of feeling will eventually bring me harm.”

Those words echoed vividly, as if spoken right beside her ear.

But she had guessed correctly—she was really foolish. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have risked her own life and fought against Flosi just to protect a blood thrall who had shown her kindness.

Thinking of this, Ivy let out a somewhat tragic smile. Though she was crying, her smile was unusually bright.

She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and stopped pretending.

“It’s all my fault.”

“It has nothing to do with anyone else. If you want to punish someone, just punish me.” Ivy said firmly.

The fear and eagerness to please that had always marked Ivy’s personality disappeared at this moment. The terror and hesitation in her eyes gradually faded, replaced by calmness.

This was her true self. Everything she had done before was just a small disguise.

But that kind of life had seemed to become a habit even for Ivy herself, almost making her believe she was truly weak.

Fortunately, she had found herself again.

Flosi was somewhat surprised by Ivy’s sudden change, but it was actually within her expectations.

She nodded, released the hand that had been clutching Ivy’s hair, and conjured a blood-red longsword in her hand.

Ivy struggled to push herself up, looking at the longsword in Flosi’s hand. There was no fear in her eyes—instead, a calm resignation.

She was already too weak to resist the pain.

But at this moment, Ivy didn’t know where she found the strength.

Maybe the shackles sealed on her had loosened a bit, or perhaps it was the courage of a desperate act. She stood up from the ground.

Though unsteady, she stood upright, lips bitten so hard earlier in the pain that they bled, a streak of red flowing down her mouth.

This made Ivy’s current appearance even more broken.

Flosi gripped the sword, looking at this Ivy, and couldn’t help but recall the Ivy before being sacrificed to her.

Back then, Ivy had looked at her with the same expression, still clad in armor—though it was battered and torn, even the Hero’s Sword was nearly broken.

Despite being struck down by Flosi many times, Ivy had stubbornly risen from the ground, without any trace of fear.

That fierce tenacity sharply contrasted with Ivy’s delicate, fragile appearance, and it was exactly why Flosi was so fascinated by her.

Though Ivy had since become a completely different person, Flosi could still feel that former spark from her.

Because although Ivy seemed humble and had given up everything, she had never stopped trying to escape.

That was why Flosi was so determined to conquer Ivy, to crush her rebellious spirit completely.

Flosi recalled the Ivy who, before today, would only ask for hugs and flatter her with fearful eyes and trembling posture.

And now, the Ivy who looked at her with a calm face, without fear or dread.

It seemed this girl had indeed been pretending all along.

Flosi answered the question she had asked herself when Ivy first arrived here.

Now with the answer, all the earlier behavior was confirmed to be a disguise; this strong, unyielding posture was Ivy’s true self.

“Do it, Flosi.”

Ivy no longer called her “Prince Flosi” or “Master,” but directly spoke her name without reservation.

Her body wavered slightly, but she still stood straight and tall, like a true hero.

Flosi’s blade pointed at Ivy’s neck. “This is your last chance. Do you regret it?”

“No.” Ivy replied without hesitation.

The sword was raised, exuding a sharp aura as it lunged toward Ivy.

Ivy closed her eyes.

She heard the blade cut through the air, the piercing whistle, and the countdown of her life.

To die like this wasn’t so bad, after all—at least she was dying as a hero.

This would be her way of reclaiming the dignity she had lost these past days.

Ivy thought this as the sword came down.