Livia was smart. Or rather, after so many hardships and heartbreak, this illegitimate girl was far more mature and realistic than most her age.
She understood the source of the sigil’s power was shrouded in mystery, and she knew one thing for certain—there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world.
The power she possessed, her mighty Star Emblem, was not given by the sleeping Creator, but by her “friends.”
She couldn’t accept this gift with a clear conscience. Deep down, she was always afraid that one day she would have to pay an unimaginable, terrible price.
Why were the “stars” so fixated on a girl of impure blood? Why give her such power? Why comfort her, day after day? Why entrust her with the burden of “saving humanity”?
Why her? Just because she was pretty?
What kind of reason was that?! What exactly made her so special, worthy of their “favor”?
In truth, Livia had never truly trusted the “stars.” But… she had no choice.
At least, the Star Emblem powers they granted her had allowed her to survive, to save Marianne, to rescue villages, to help more people. She could not help but rely on this strength.
She could only bury that deep suspicion, hiding it at the very bottom of her heart, never daring to let it show.
At her core, she was just a cowardly girl. She was terrified of losing the one thing that let her feel “useful,” “needed.”
She knew—this endless nightmare, this Star Emblem of unknown origin, everything about it was strange. Even she herself was deeply flawed.
Her obsession with battle might be a symptom of her own psychological problems—maybe, deep inside, she longed for death, to be free from this endless cycle of pain; yet, at the same time, she feared true death.
Torn between these contradictions, she kept seeking release in battle, longing for an end, but instead, became a “reaper” who took the lives of others.
If… if Allen de Laval was right, if the Engraved Mark is a trap laid by an evil god, then perhaps Livia von Stern is fated to become the greatest sinner of all, seduced by the whispers of evil and destined to bring ruin to mankind.
The Creator must already know she has become a puppet of an evil god.
To be eternally trapped in the endless nightmare, unable even to die—maybe this was the merciful but cruel punishment the Lord dealt her.
Her “mother” always believed her blood was tainted, unlucky. Perhaps she was right. She was a hopeless sinner.
She was already addicted to this power, origin unknown, price still unpaid. She knew it was poison, but she had no other choice.
She was in too much pain, too lonely. If even the “stars’” false “companionship” vanished, she wouldn’t even be able to maintain her flimsy mask as “Livia.”
She’d become that despised, rejected “illegitimate child” all over again.
Mother… I… I tried so hard to live… Was it wrong from the very start?
Deprived of those “kind” whispers, Livia’s thoughts actually grew clearer.
At last, she could calmly look back over her whole life, and consider those nightmares of reincarnation.
Why… did she descend into this world full of suffering? Why did she have to witness the fall of human civilization, over and over? Why was it impossible for her to grasp even the simplest happiness?
This time, she had met His Majesty the King for the first time, and learned, for the first time, the horrific truths that had been hidden away—human civilization had already been destroyed and reborn countless times; the power of the sigil was not inherent, and its source was suspect/.
His Majesty was secretly implementing a plan vast enough to overturn the entire Kingdom… All of this made her feel more insignificant and ignorant than ever before.
She had always thought herself a lonely savior—how arrogant and laughable that idea now seemed.
In the past, she had always striven to play the good girl, the model student, the exemplary noble knight, suppressing her true self.
But now, having learned part of the truth, she felt as if she had shaken off some invisible shackles. She had become a secret ally to His Majesty.
On this difficult path to saving mankind, she no longer felt so alone. She could finally try to set down some of her old burdens.
Was Allen de Laval truly a devil? Livia knew he was connected to those madmen of the Crimson Spiral Cult. He, like her, also retained memories of the Reincarnation Nightmare.
But was Livia herself truly “innocent”? She had killed that “devil” so many times, yet humanity always met its destruction.
Perhaps Allen de Laval was just another pitiable soul, deceived and used by beings known as “Observers.” He had died so many times; the pain he endured might not be less than her own.
After all, she was always the “survivor” or “witness,” watching humanity’s destruction unfold.
Was she not like a murderer who always returned to the scene of the crime to admire her “work”…? Perhaps, the true culprit behind mankind’s repeated demise—was herself?
Livia couldn’t help but wonder: what would happen if she died? Would mankind… be saved?
There were very few people in this world who could kill her. But if it was him—Allen de Laval—maybe he could do it.
Yes, surely he hated her to the bone, surely he wanted to kill her every waking moment.
In that case… why should she uphold that sham of an engagement? Why keep “watching” over this “devil”? Wouldn’t it be better to simply let him kill her? Then she could finally be free.
It was this self-destructive impulse, which surged up in her mind before His Majesty, that broke down her last line of psychological defense. All the pain she had been suppressing flooded out in an instant, and almost on a reckless whim, she requested the right to duel from His Majesty.
Whether she killed Allen or Allen killed her, either outcome seemed like a “good” ending to her.
If she killed Allen, she would take Marianne and go fulfill their promise beneath the stars. She had nothing left to fear. If Marianne still couldn’t escape death this time, she’d die alongside her.
If Allen killed her, all the better. She was already sick of this pitiful, laughable existence.
Livia even felt a twisted curiosity: if she completely betrayed the “stars’” “expectations” this time, what would they do? Would they take back their blessing? Would they finally reveal their true faces?
Would she… still wake from the next nightmare? Now that she suddenly couldn’t feel their presence, maybe this was the perfect chance to test her theory.
After all, she had nothing left, nothing more to lose. At this moment, she was probably the loneliest person in the world.
At this thought, Livia couldn’t help but recall today’s encounter with Allen. That he’d guessed she was handing him a challenge to duel hadn’t surprised her.
After all, in previous cycles, she had killed him countless times. Although it was often not of her own will, or forced by circumstances, that blood feud had carried through to this cycle.
But… if he hated me so much, why would he say those things?
“To be honest, setting aside our grievances, I don’t actually dislike our engagement.”
“Of course, I’m not important to this engagement. What matters is that you and Marianne are together, and can be happy.”
That black-haired boy’s face, his words—“so long as you and Marianne are happy”—echoed in her mind again and again, making her heart restless.
How did he know about her and Marianne’s past? Did Marianne tell him? But in all the previous cycles, Marianne always hated Allen de Laval.
Why was Marianne different this time? What had he done to her? Did he really look forward to this engagement? Why? Did Allen de Laval… like me? Otherwise, why would he wish me happiness?
Allen’s whispered threat, “I’m going to kill you,” made Livia’s body tremble faintly.
Strangely, it didn’t anger her—instead, it sparked a strange, indescribable flutter in her heart.
Some hidden chord inside her—a girlish, never-touched feeling—was suddenly plucked.
She even remembered that absurd but vivid dream, where she was back at Saint Nora Academy, seeing Allen sitting on a bench, gazing at her with eyes almost full of pity.
When he spoke to her, the gentle smile on his face was nothing like the resigned, defeated look he always wore in her memories of the cycles.
Why… do I even dream about him… I… am becoming so strange…
If, at that time, I hadn’t handed him the duel letter, and instead completed the engagement properly… would he… have made me happy?
No… Livia… what are you thinking… What should I do…
Beneath the silent moonlight, Livia von Stern—the seemingly invincible, dazzling “Queen of Heaven” in Allen’s eyes—could no longer maintain her outward strength.
She buried her face deep in her knees, her slender shoulders shaking uncontrollably, warm tears silently soaking through her white stockings.
Things never go as planned.
Allen, who hoped more than anything for her and Marianne to be the best couple in the universe, might imagine Livia’s inner wounds, but could never have guessed that the only one who could pull her from this endless nightmare of despair was, in fact, himself—the “villain.”
The girl, stripped of her hero’s halo, longed for true salvation.
In the end, the one who approached her would not be her cherished friend, but her archnemesis—whom she herself had killed countless times.
This is the stage of destiny woven by the “gods,” a dance of fate no one could predict.
Outside the window, the stars still gazed silently down upon the world, and none could know what thoughts lurked behind the deep night sky, or what new schemes were brewing.
“I’m sorry… I… I couldn’t… fulfill our promise…”
“I miss you so much… Marianne…”
The barely audible sobs faded away in the cold moonlight.