Chapter 1

From a distance, I saw him, bound and displayed on the scaffold. Under the scorching sun, his body, denied any rest for days, had withered. His widely stretched arms were chained to two distant pillars. His once lustrous black hair hung limply over his bowed head, cascading towards the ground.

A brutal execution, unbearable even for the sturdiest knights, was his fate. Publicly exposed to all manner of humiliation and disgrace, he was to die the death of a traitor.

The harshest punishment from the emperor for a noble of high standing – denied even a sip of water, not to be granted a quick death.

Duke Sion Belpast of the North. He should not be dying like this.

Hidden in the darkness, I watched him until the night deepened.

Perhaps I was the one who caused his downfall, but I had hoped he wouldn't end like this. It was an emotion I couldn't comprehend.

I killed Sir Arcadia Nugent, his closest friend, vassal, and right hand. The deputy commander of the Northern Knights, who had assisted the Duke in protecting the empire.

Later, I deceived the new deputy commander, Bran Ophilit, into inciting rebellion against the Duke and then killed him. The Duke's knightly order crumbled.

The White Butterfly – that's what they call me, an assassin.

The hound of the powerful Duke Rahert, who despised Duke Belpast. Medea Rahert, the eldest daughter of the Duke's household, was my master. I, a silver-haired assassin, followed her orders without question. A female monster with half her face grotesquely disfigured.

All these epithets referred to me, yet I didn't know who I truly was.

When darkness enveloped everything and nothing could be seen, I slowly approached the Duke. I got close, but he seemed unaware of my presence.

The water I had purposely chilled was still cool.

I knelt before the Duke, and then he lifted his head to look at me.

His eyes, once bluer than the deepest and broadest lake in the empire, now looked at me devoid of light.

"I've brought water."

I placed a cotton ball soaked in water into his mouth.

After he drank, he spit out the cotton. His gaze fixed on me after a moment.

"Is it you?"

His lips, once radiant with crimson, now cracked and covered in scabs, parted. Unable to face him directly, I bowed my head.

Duke Sion Belpast.

Only twenty-eight years old. A hero who defended the empire through numerous victories. The only noble who put his people before himself, loved by the masses, becoming the archenemy of my master, Duke Rahert.

The last of the Northern Duke's bloodline.

The man who first defeated me with a sword.

"I had hoped you would survive."

A voice like scratching on dry wood escaped my throat.

"It doesn't seem like something the White Butterfly of Rahert should say," the Duke replied. A fleeting smile touched his once-beautiful jawline, then disappeared. No anger, no sarcasm, just plain words.

How long had you been aware of my existence, an assassin? The night I disguised Arcadia's death as a suicide, did you see me as I passed by?

"When I was fifteen, Count Hern Nugent, who had protected the North in my stead, died. Was that also Rahert's doing?"

"My mentor, a dark worm of Rahert, assassinated him."

"I see. I've never heard of that person."

"Because I killed him."

I answered flatly, eyes downcast. The Duke commanded, "Lift your head, White Butterfly."

At his dignified words, I closed my eyes, silently questioning him.

Don't you know I don't have the right to look directly at you?

Even if I raise my head, all you'll see in your eyes is a monster in a mask, with one side of her face completely distorted.

"Lift your head, nameless one."

The Duke spoke again. From his voice, I sensed that he would not make it through the night.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I raised my face.

Does the moonlight reflect on my face?

Isn't my collapsed left face hideous?

The half-mask still covers my right side. I still live like this.

I spoke to him in my heart.

He looked into my eyes, just like that day 11 years ago.

The seventeen-year-old Northern Duke, who had accepted a duel with a fourteen-year-old girl with half her face covered by a mask.

After handing me my first defeat, he carefully removed the mask covering half of my face with his gentle hands.

And he asked, "Why do you cover the beautiful side of your face with a mask?"

"Because the ruined side is my real face…"

Confused, I replied, and he said, "I don't think so. To me, it seems like the covered side is your real face. Wouldn't it be better to show your beautiful side?"

Even then, he spoke in a calm tone and carefully replaced the mask so I wouldn't be more embarrassed, without taking his eyes off mine.

Meeting someone who didn't despise me, other than my mistress Medea, was the first and last time.

He wouldn't remember, but when I inadvertently looked up, our eyes met – his blue eyes staring at me.

The Duke said, "Long ago, I knew someone whose gaze was very much like yours."

"…"

"Clear, sky-blue eyes, like a cloudless sky. Yours are red, but the eyes beneath your mask… I can't remember."

I couldn't bring myself to say that my eyes beneath the mask were also sky-blue. I didn't want to taint his memory.

Then, footsteps echoed in the darkness.

I instinctively reached for the sheath of my sword.

I couldn't let my master find out I had brought water to a traitor.

Whoever saw me now had to die.

But it was my mistress Medea Rahert's maid who appeared.

Without looking at the Duke, she said to me, "The young lady is looking for the White Butterfly."

I nodded, and she vanished into the darkness.

She must have thought I came to verify the Duke's last moments.

The Duke's breathing grew labored. I tried to pour the water from the small glass bottle into his mouth.

But he shook his head.

"Why… do you follow Rahert?"

He asked.

"My first memory is of Lady Medea's smiling face. She took me in, a child with a broken face and lost memory. Everyone pointed fingers at me, calling me a monster, but she was the only one who treated me like a person."

"Is that so? Foolish and regrettable."

His voice trembled like a dying candle flame. His sturdy shoulders began to sag in the wind.

I closed my eyes again. I didn't want to see him fall apart.

I asked him, "Is it pity?"

"Interest," he replied.

"I respected you."

After my words, he fell silent. I waited for his silence.

After a moment, the Duke spoke again.

"Can you tell me your real name? Your true… name."

It was unexpected. I couldn't fathom why the Duke, dying, would ask for the name of someone like me.

"Bella. It's the name Lady Medea gave me."

A name known only to my mistress.

"Bella. May your soul emerge from the darkness."

The Duke said.

I felt as if a piece of my heart had been torn out at his words.

But the White Butterfly never shows her emotions, no matter what.

I quietly bowed to the Duke.

A strong wind blew, passing between us.

After a long while, I looked up.

The Duke had passed away, still chained.

"May you not be born into such a world in your next life."

I had to swallow my tears.

But the pain wrenching my heart could not be fully suppressed.

I wanted to lay down his dead body, chained as it was, to rest.

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to touch even his cold, pale hand.

I dared not defile his body with the hands of a tainted White Butterfly.

The Rahert Duke's residence, situated in the middle of the bustling Sharhen district, overlooks the execution site.

I entered the mansion through a secret passage.

Then, I stepped into a corridor, over a lena in length, covered in gold.

The last image of the Duke wouldn't leave my mind, making the glittering corridor seem alien today.

Snap out of it.

This isn't like you.

After a long walk, I reached the secret chamber of the young lady. I caught my breath in front of the closed door.

What's right doesn't matter, Bella. What matters is what the young lady wants.

I cautiously knocked on the door with a red ruby ornament.

"Come in."

The low but affectionate voice of the young lady reached my ears.

As I entered, I bowed deeply.

"There's no need for formalities between us, Bella. You're always the same, no matter how many times I tell you."

As I raised my head, the young lady was smiling warmly at me.

"You're my only, true friend."

I regretted entering with such a dark expression.

I felt guilty for momentarily doubting the longstanding friendship she had shown.

It was my choice to kill the enemies of the Rahert family for her.

Every time I killed, I realized my own monstrosity, but it didn't matter.

Since I was five and remembered, people called me a monster because of my disfigured face.

I replied as respectfully as possible.

"It's an honor, but from tomorrow, you shouldn't call someone like me a friend. You'll become the granddaughter of the noble Emperor."

"Ho ho, is that so? But still, we shouldn't forget old friendships, right?"

She smiled faintly. Then, the young lady slightly furrowed her straight nose.

…Why?

Suddenly, she smiled again.

"Thank you, Bella. Everyone might be jealous of me, but you are always there for me, still. It's unbelievable. The long-awaited day finally arrives tomorrow. The Emperor's adoptive granddaughter. It feels too much for me."

"Not at all, my lady. Haven't you worked hard for this for a long time?"

"Really? Is it not too much? Am I worthy?"

"Of course. Other than the royal family, you will be the highest-ranking individual in the Delfast Empire. To the childless Emperor, you will be like a light in his lonely life."

"Huh, it does seem so. Recently, he doesn't talk much about his late son or the lost granddaughter."

Tomorrow, my mistress Medea's coronation ceremony will be held.

The day she becomes the adoptive granddaughter of the childless, aging Emperor.

The day the Duke's eldest daughter becomes a princess, inheriting the throne.

"That's why, Bella, I received a gift from the Emperor."

The young lady twirled her luscious golden hair with her fingers, her red eyes sparkling.

I was pleased to talk with her like this.

In such moments, I felt my loneliness fading a bit.

"Aren't you curious?"

"I am."

"The royal treasure. The sword Lucella, which proves the bloodline of the royal family."

"The Emperor truly loves you."

I marveled sincerely.

Lucella is one of only two holy swords in the empire.

A sword that appears in the founding myth, remembering and proving the blood of the royal family.

If royal blood touches it, the silver blade turns to gold, according to the oracle.

Then, the young lady laughed brightly.

"Exactly. That's why I want to please the Emperor even more."

Lady Medea showed me the silver sword inside a clear gem box.

It was a dazzling sword to behold.

A true honor.

I knelt on one knee before her.

"Though my blood would never turn this sword golden, if it did, you'd be so happy you'd faint, wouldn't you?"

Occasionally cruel, but fundamentally pure-hearted, the young lady laughed at the impossible fantasy, despite it being utterly unattainable.

The Emperor, who had lost his only son, the Crown Prince, and then the granddaughter born of the prince.

All across the continent, those coveting the palace claimed to have found the lost granddaughter, but none of their imposters could change the color of this sword.

"I remember it clearly. When that lowly king of Roman presented his daughter, His Majesty wounded his noble self with this sword. 'This silver sword will surely not turn gold!' Everyone who doubted the sword's sanctity was silenced. Roman was destroyed by the Emperor's wrath."

"I've heard of it."

The young lady slowly moved to a corner of the room and opened an old oak drawer.

She then took out another sword.

"I've got a sword now, so I thought I'd gift you one too. What do you think of this sword?"

"!"

It was a sword slightly longer than a dagger, emitting a faint greenish light.

The hilt was made of an unknown blue mineral.

"I am honored, my lady."

I was genuinely surprised and bowed deeply.

Then, the young lady, who had quietly approached me, gently lifted my chin with her long, beautiful fingers.

"Bella, actually, I've been meaning to give you this dagger for a long time. Sorry for the delay."

"What? I'm truly honored."

"But I have one favor to ask."

"What is it?"

"Unsheathe the sword you're wearing now, take it far away, and come back."

Seeing the young lady's face bright with amusement, I knew she had come up with another whimsical prank. I readily complied.

"Sit as you were before. Oh, your mask is a bit loose. Let me fix it."

The young lady carefully adjusted the mask covering the unscathed half of my face.

"Don't be ashamed of your original, disfigured face, Bella. Be proud to show it. If anyone says anything, I'll scold them just like I did when we were children."

The young lady, holding the sacred sword Lucella, slowly approached me. I joked.

"Are you about to grant me a title, Your Highness?"

"No, something better than that. Don't move, Bella."

"Yes."

"Promise me."

"Yes."

At that moment, she slightly pricked the disfigured side of my face with the dagger she had shown me earlier.

Why?

But within seconds, I felt the ground rise.

I was dizzy. Suddenly, she pierced my heart with Lucella.

I couldn't even make a sound.

What is this?

The sword she plunged pierced my lung. She twisted the sword inside my body, smiling brightly.

"To tell you an incomparably great truth. Bella, the truth is, you're the real granddaughter of the Emperor."

"!"

The sound of air escaping my punctured lung filled my ears.

At the same time, I saw the silver blade of Lucella gradually turn gold, moving from the blade to the hilt.

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This novel has been translated up to chapter 66.

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