The Humanoid slowly leaned down.
It had hands. It gently pried Sephy’s fingers from the sword hilt, then held the Demon Sword in one hand while grasping Sephy’s severed arm with the other.
The soldiers could only watch everything unfold because they were unable to move… or more accurately, because they were sinking.
Looking down at their feet, they realized the ground at the intersection, centered around the Humanoid, had turned into a pool of pitch-black mire.
It was composed of the black shadows gathered under the lights, as thick as boiling asphalt, silently swallowing the bricks… and it was still spreading across the entire block.
The mire born from shadows swallowed their own shadows, dragging their bodies down as they continued to sink.
They wanted to pull their legs out of that Shadow Mire, and after realizing they had lost control of their limbs, they tried to use their hands to pull themselves free — but it was all in vain.
They could not move even one finger. Even if they wanted to scream in rage, they could not even twitch their lips.
the Doppelgangers’ movements also ceased. Their eyes were as dim as extinguished candles, and they could only accompany the soldiers as they slowly sank.
A terrifying silence fell over the intersection… as if time had stopped, everyone sank into the pitch-black abyss without a word.
Ding, ding, ding!
The sound that broke this silence came from Sephy’s headless body.
Since her body had already sunk halfway into the Shadow Mire, the Humanoid lifted her up again and pulled the object making the noise from her bosom.
It was a bead whose surface appeared covered in clouds and mist, yet its interior was vibrant and radiant.
The Humanoid lowered its head. Its face was a void, but it appeared to be looking at that bead.
This judgment was made by the soldiers who had been staring at it when the sudden change occurred.
Now, they couldn’t even move their own eyeballs.
The Humanoid covered the bead with its palm, and the radiance of the bead vanished.
With the light gone, there was no longer a single sound left to break the silence.
……
Yebul woke up in total darkness.
‘Is this the world after death?’
That was his first reaction.
He could not see his own body. He tried to speak, but no sound came… there was only boundless darkness.
He could no longer feel the coldness that had frozen him stiff. He could no longer hear the persuasive voice of the Demon Sword.
Thus, he concluded that he must be dead. He tried to sever his own consciousness.
…
A long time passed, but his consciousness did not disappear.
‘Why is this happening?’ He was puzzled. He could only try to recall everything from the past.
Since he could not perceive his own body, he felt somewhat fortunate.
This way, when he remembered the killing intent released by that woman, he no longer had to worry about controlling his lower body — in the fifteen years since he had retired from the court, it had truly taken him a very long time to overcome the terror of that day, allowing him to barely turn back into a normal man who could use the bathroom properly.
However, that period had been far too long.
During that time, his wife’s family, who came from the high nobility of the Imperial Capital, could not bear the shame of the “Count of Urine” title hanging over his head.
They forced him to divorce his wife.
With the departure of his wife and her family, his status plummeted.
Eventually, he was even stripped of his title by a brother from the same clan, leaving him to drown himself in alcohol day and night…
He felt pain and resentment, but he felt no regret.
His family was a prestigious name within the Yilansiya Imperial Capital circle… how could they possibly accept a village girl of lowly blood leaping up to become a Grand Duke of Yilansiya, second only to one and above ten thousand?
If the Hero were still around, it wouldn’t have mattered… but without the Hero, on what grounds did a village girl get to rule a quarter of the entire country’s territory?
It was simply an insult to all Yilansiya nobles with long, storied histories!
He knew the others in the court felt the same way — especially the Dukes of the Four Borders.
How could those people possibly accept a rural village woman standing on equal footing with them?
Therefore, his outburst at the time was also an attempt to offer a letter of allegiance to them, hoping to win their favor.
In reality, it had been a failed attempt, and that attempt had nearly destroyed his life completely.
But regardless of the perspective, he believed he had done nothing wrong.
Not allowing lowly blood to mingle… this was a matter of noble dignity.
I was merely defending the dignity that nobles regard as life itself, merely pursuing higher interests and status for my family… what did I do wrong?!
Thus, he could only pour all his venom onto the woman who had turned him into this.
That hateful woman! That woman who was clearly the most noble Royal Princess of Yilansiya, yet issued death threats to a fellow noble!
To obtain the power to take revenge on her, he had not hesitated to kneel before the Dukes of the Four Borders —
“Excuse me, let me interrupt.”
His memories were suddenly cut off. He heard someone speaking.
“This was a choice you made yourself. Why can you not accept the outcome?”
The voice was transmitted directly into his consciousness. He could not resist it.
He wanted to roar and demand answers, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t feel his body; he only had his consciousness.
‘Why should I accept it?! I am not in the wrong… The one at fault is that woman! It took me so long to reach this point, and I made so many preparations… I sought revenge against her to reclaim my dignity as a man and a noble! I even gave my life!’
He could only roar at the voice within his consciousness.
“And so, you ultimately met with failure. After making a choice you do not regret, you gave it your all and failed. There is no longer any possibility of a comeback… Do you acknowledge this?”
These words caused Yebul to feel a flicker of daze. An image appeared in his consciousness once more: it was himself, burnt black within a firestorm.
The Ice Armor on his body was melting, and the Demon Sword was falling from his hand.
He knew the voice was right. He should acknowledge it.
‘Are you a god? Are you judging the dead version of me?’
“No, I am merely asking you a question. Besides, you are not dead. The reason you haven’t died is because you haven’t consented to it.”
‘I’m not dead?’
“Not dead. How could a dead person still have a consciousness? But you truly ought to be dead. I was simply curious why you were still brazenly clinging to life at this point.”
Another image appeared. It was a continuation of his memories. He saw himself kneeling before four tall silhouettes, looking as small and lowly as the commoners he had always despised.
Then, he saw the woman he hated once more.
That woman stood in the white court, and with only one person and one sword, she dared to defiantly face 1,000 pointing fingers.
Which side… actually felt more like the embodiment of the noble dignity he valued as much as his life?
With the emergence of this thought, his consciousness shattered completely and dissipated forever into the darkness.
“It seems you’ve finally figured it out. Thank you for the treat. But I must mention,” the voice that had been speaking to him continued to echo in the infinite darkness after his consciousness vanished.
“Whether it is you or your revenge, I find them both utterly boring.”