Chapter 31: The Catalyst of Madness

Rosalia did not kill Margaret’s avatar.

Her attention had long since shifted away from her opponent. For Rosalia, Margaret had become something utterly insignificant.

What mattered more was the information the other had provided.

Should she really take Liliya outside?

Rosalia did not like this idea.

The world outside was too vast, too full of temptations for Liliya.

If, in a moment she failed to notice, Liliya was taken away by someone from the Church and underwent a Ritual she knew nothing about, then in this lifetime, Liliya might have to go through it all over again.

If she didn’t take Liliya out, she would never be able to find Lyle’s Fragment, no matter how much she knew that the Fragment was right there, on that Cardinal. She would still be powerless to turn things around.

Even if she killed the other, tortured them a thousand times over, wiped them out on a molecular level—if she couldn’t find that Fragment in the end, it would be all for nothing.

She had to take Liliya with her.

Otherwise, she’d be forced to repeat these two thousand years, maybe several more cycles of two thousand years, until the planet itself was destroyed, and still she might never be able to make Liliya hers forever.

Confused.

From this perspective, Rosalia felt she absolutely had to find those Fragments.

She pondered this, and before she knew it, she was already back in her own room.

Pushing open the door, the sight that greeted her was Liliya’s peaceful, sleeping face.

Perhaps because she’d opened the door too forcefully, Liliya opened her drowsy eyes, still half-asleep, staring blankly, adorably, like an unspoiled sheet of white paper.

The fear brought on by her first period had, for the moment, been soothed away by Rosalia’s comfort. The exhaustion from crying so long—both mental and physical—had let Liliya fall briefly into a deep sleep.

But in the end, Liliya had been sleeping a lot lately. At this moment, awakened by Rosalia’s footsteps, she looked at her mistress.

“Lady Rosalia…”

Her voice was soft, weak, carrying the raspy tone of someone just woken up, indescribably cute.

“Mmm, I’m back.”

At that moment, Rosalia felt her heart turn soft. The fatigue and disgust left by her encounter with Margaret had been washed away, leaving only Liliya in her eyes.

She pounced into Liliya’s arms, hugging her tightly, greedily breathing in the sweet scent that lingered on Liliya, her hands holding tight to the girl’s soft body.

“Lady Rosalia, what’s wrong?”

Liliya had never seen Rosalia like this before. Her heart clenched with fear as she held tightly to her mistress, the sense of security she’d finally regained in the morning slowly slipping away again.

Once again, she feared Rosalia would leave her.

Why would even Rosalia show such an expression? Wasn’t she always in control of everything?

Liliya hugged Rosalia even tighter, her voice trembling uncontrollably, “Lady Rosalia, are you feeling unwell? Did you… did you have your first period too, like me?”

Liliya was flustered, left only with wild guesses about what might be happening to Rosalia.

“No, I’m just tired. I couldn’t help but hug you after seeing how cute you are, Liliya.”

Rosalia didn’t speak the truth—there was no point telling Liliya these things.

It wasn’t arrogance, but once certain keywords were touched, perhaps Liliya would turn back to the way she was before, recovering her memories and once more being manipulated by those disgusting things from the Church.

“Lady Rosalia, what are you talking about…”

Liliya’s cheeks flushed at her words. Even after all these days, she still wasn’t used to Rosalia’s blunt praise.

But beyond the embarrassment, she also noticed the strange note in Rosalia’s mood.

This was the first time she had seen Rosalia so tired.

She couldn’t help but ask again, “Lady Rosalia, did something happen? If you don’t want to talk about it… is there anything I can do to help?”

Rosalia lifted her head, looking into Liliya’s eyes—the eyes that had just uttered those words, scarlet irises now burning with a strange fervor.

She wanted Liliya.

She wanted Liliya to give herself wholly, so they could share a moment of absolute ecstasy.

But such words could never be spoken aloud.

If Liliya had agreed, she would have done so on that day when Rosalia first tugged at her heartstrings.

“I want Liliya’s comfort.”

That brief line was already the best excuse Rosalia could come up with.

This was all she yearned for now—just something so trivial.

Let Liliya comfort her, and that would be enough.

After all, she was just a “human” who had gone mad for a thousand years.

Liliya didn’t know what she was supposed to do; she had no memory of caring for others—or maybe she had, but that had long been sealed away by Rosalia.

Now her mind was a blank.

All she could do was awkwardly, imitating Rosalia’s gestures, gently stroke Rosalia’s hair and softly reassure her, “It’s all right, Lady Rosalia. You’ve already done so well.”

“I may not know exactly what you’ve done, but you are the leader of the Blood Clan, always doing so much for me, and you do it so well—it’s already amazing.”

Like coaxing a child.

Clumsy, useless.

Because she was Liliya, Rosalia felt herself grow dazed.

Memories from two thousand years ago suddenly resurfaced.

That man—who had seemed a giant to the Rosalia of that time—reached out with his rough, large hands, ruffled her hair, and said something similar.

“You’re still so young; to have done this much is already wonderful.”

It was as if this scene had bridged two thousand years to this very moment, and Rosalia’s gaze turned vacant as the surging emotions in her chest overwhelmed her reason.

She no longer knew if the person before her was the original Lyle, or Liliya who had reincarnated over two thousand years.

She could no longer tell.

This look, though, only made Liliya feel more heartbroken.

Lady Rosalia really has it tough.

So thinking, she hugged Rosalia even tighter, using that gesture to comfort this girl who had been mad for centuries.

“Lady Rosalia, don’t worry. As long as you don’t throw me away, no matter what, I will always stay by your side. If you’re ever truly tired, you can always come to me, just like today.”

You little brat, what are you thinking? Since you already cling to me, there’s no way I’d throw you away, much less do something like eat you. Human flesh probably isn’t even as tasty as tree bark.

If I said I’d take care of you for a lifetime, then that’s a promise for a lifetime.

Words carry a terrifying power, especially those that speak of “a lifetime,” or “forever.”

Humans may never realize just how frightening such words are, powerful enough to make a little girl repeat a cycle for two thousand years, just to keep a single promise of comfort.

And as for the person in question—Liliya—she could not possibly understand that her words would become yet another catalyst for madness.

Rosalia lifted her head, gazing into Liliya’s eyes.

Liliya wanted to look away, but she sensed that if she didn’t keep watching at this moment, something terrible would happen.

So she could only keep meeting Rosalia’s gaze.

“Mm. I believe in Liliya.”

Rosalia smiled, and in that instant, all her allure blossomed, radiating a charm that seemed capable of devouring one’s very soul.

Liliya was left entranced.

Lady Rosalia seemed to really like what she’d just said.

And to her, right now, it didn’t seem like such a difficult promise to keep.

At this moment, Liliya had only Rosalia—she had no one else to rely on, no one else she cared for.

For her, Rosalia was everything, her whole world.

So, she didn’t think it would be hard at all.

Rosalia believed it, too.

There was no wavering in Liliya’s eyes. Coupled with those words she’d just spoken—just like in that very first lifetime—it made Rosalia decide to believe in her.

“Liliya, let’s go out tomorrow.”

Rosalia hoped that Liliya would keep her promise.

Otherwise…

Rosalia didn’t dwell on it, instead losing herself in Liliya’s comforting embrace.