Chapter 3

After the assassination, I disappeared like a butterfly in a white cloak.

I was a killer known as White Butterfly.

I killed whoever Laheart commanded.

My actions were just taking a few lives, but those lost lives became a giant storm that crumbled the North.

The weakened Northern Duke was labeled a traitor by the silver-tongued Laheart Duke and met a miserable death.

It all started today, six years ago, when I was about to turn twenty.

I successfully completed the duel, and Beetle judged that I had grown enough to kill Arcadia Nugent.

Because I did well in this duel.

Even if this was the lingering resentment of my remaining life, I didn't want to be driven to kill someone again.

"The Northern Duke Sion Belpast is coming to Laheart the day after tomorrow. As Laheart's dog and especially as the lady's confidant, how could you not know that?"

Black Beetle's voice was colder than the winter north wind.

Blood trickled down my cheek, freezing almost instantly as it met the cold wind.

Yes, such a vivid memory.

In truth, I never wanted to kill anyone.

Whoosh—

Suddenly, without warning, Black Beetle's sword slashed towards me again, as if he didn't care if his sword split me in half.

I dodged his sword just enough to not die, pretending to stumble and fumble.

He cocked his head.

"What's this? Was your earlier movement just a fluke?"

I wanted to do things differently this time, even if only in this memory. I didn't want to be selected to kill the confidant of the Northern Duke.

After a few more threatening strikes with his murderous sword, Beetle, seemingly bored of my mere evasion, sheathed his weapon.

"With that mindset, you couldn't kill even a soldier of the Northern Knights, let alone the North."

"I'm not skilled enough yet."

I glared at him, and he snorted.

"Just by dodging my sword, you've proven your skill, larva."

"!"

"But if you don't want to be deployed in actual combat, you'll fail anyway. Go back to your room and wait for your disposal."

Not being deployed.

I felt ridiculous for being relieved at those words.

After all, I was dead, and this past unfolding before me must be the last dream of the deceased.

In the Duke's mansion's basement.

Before the larva became a butterfly, a shriveled piece of bread was left in front of the door of that old, cramped place.

The usual food given to me.

Swallowing bitterness, I entered the room, lay down on the bed, and closed my eyes.

If I could fall asleep again, would this hell I returned to end?

Then, dignified footsteps sounded from outside the door. The regular rhythm of high heels, unmistakably heading towards me. I recognized her just by the sound.

Medea Laheart.

As soon as I realized this, the hair on my body stood on end. My lung, pierced by her hand just hours ago, remembered the pain and began to leak air again. I instinctively suppressed my gasping breath.

[The real granddaughter of the Emperor is you.]

That fact, which has been pressing on me since I opened my eyes, stabbed my heart again. The golden blade of Lucella flickered before my eyes.

Her steps stopped in front of the door.

"Who dared to put such food in front of my Bella?"

Her voice was as sharp as an ice pick, a tone heard only when she was genuinely angry.

"How many times do I have to tell them to take proper care of this child? The person in this room is my friend before being my subordinate."

Her voice was full of sorrow and dignity.

Ah.

Once, her voice was the only solace in my life. Her words were the lifeline that kept me from drowning in loneliness and solitude.

But the woman outside the door killed me. Even though she knew I was the only blood of the Emperor.

And then she lied that the blood I shed was her blood to become the real granddaughter of the Emperor, not just an adopted one.

Medea didn't stop her anger.

"Bella? Has Bella returned?"

"Yes. She returned just a moment ago, no, she arrived."

Then the sound of the door opening followed, and the clicking of heels.

With her entrance, the room filled with the scent of violet jasmine, a perfume made exclusively for her by the empire's finest perfumer. Her favorite scent.

Chills ran down my spine despite the familiar smell, but I clenched my teeth and pretended to be asleep. For a former Sword Master like me, controlling my breathing and heartbeat was no challenge.

I subdued my breath, as if deeply asleep.

"She has fallen asleep peacefully."

Medea murmured softly. Her long, elegant fingers swept my hair that had fallen over my disfigured cheek.

I wanted to open my eyes right then, grab her, and ask why. But I didn't. I feared that if I opened my eyes now, this dream would end.

Then I would enter eternal rest without learning anything.

"She's deeply asleep."

"I'm sorry, miss. I'll bring some good food right away."

It was the new maid I had seen before going to the training ground. But Medea's voice grew colder.

"You're new here?"

"Yes? Oh, yes. I apologize."

"Bringing good food is your wish, but if you do so, I might kill you."

"What?"

Confused, the maid received a faint smile from Medea.

"It seems the handover wasn't done properly. It means not to give this child good food. Ask your predecessor if you don't know. Oh, right, your predecessor died. Yes, I saw her pitying this monster."

"..."

"So, will you throw away this twisted bread and bring new food? What will you do?"

"..."

The maid fell to the ground.

"Please spare me, miss."

"What nonsense. What will you do?"

"I won't bring it."

"And what will you say after the child wakes up?"

"Just command me, please."

"How foolish."

Medea sighed lowly.

"You're too incompetent. You must have become a maid to trouble me."

"Oh, should I say you came, worried about her, and left?"

"...Finally, you understand. Never get close to this child. The only person who can be close and kind to her is me. Understand?"

"Yes, yes!"

"If you don't understand, ask next time. I'll kindly explain. Just don't make mistakes; I hate that."

"Of course. I understand."

Finally, Medea left. The sound of the door locking followed.

I quietly opened my eyes.

This is your true nature.

For a long time, I couldn't get out of bed.

My first memory of life was Medea's face. I was five years old.

When I regained consciousness, I was lying in an excessively lavish room. A pretty, doll-like girl was looking down at me.

When I came to, half of my face was already disfigured, and I had no memory before I was five.

The first being that showed kindness to a newborn beast becomes its entire world. Unaware of that being's malice, I became its dog and lived my life as such.

I pressed my eyes with my hands. But no tears came, only a hollow groan.

Why did I only learn the truth now?

After committing countless misdeeds on behalf of Laheart.

That night, after confirming it was dark, I got up.

I sneaked into Medea's bedroom.

Her room was on the entire floor just below the highest level of the main mansion. The bedroom itself was in the innermost part, overlooking the vast Lea forest.

I was looking for something.

This unending dream now felt like a final act of kindness bestowed by the gods, compelling me to act.

My biological mother's dagger.

The only relic left by my mother, murdered by Duke Laheart.

They must have killed her just before bringing me to this mansion. Since then, the dagger had been in their possession.

I was certain that my mother's belonging wouldn't be hidden in the Duke's secret chamber in the capital mansion, but here, within the Laheart estate's main fortress.

Medea always kept things important or secretive close to her.

The forest at night, devoid of human presence, was filled with towering trees reaching for the sky. I climbed one and stepped onto the windowsill of Medea's floor.

Opening a locked window was a simple task for an assassin. Once inside the corridor, I sneaked into the inner chamber like a breeze, avoiding any shadows.

As I suspected, inside a triple-locked jewel box in a red agate drawer beside Medea's bed, lay the dagger.

In the dark room, only the moonlight entering through the window and I were present.

I stared blankly at the dagger, shimmering in the moonlight, identical to the one I saw just before dying.

The dagger, about three palms long, had a subtle greenish glow. The blue mineral forming its handle sparkled mysteriously like the Milky Way under the moonlight.

Something hot surged in my heart.

My mother's relic.

The saint of a ruined nation who bewitched the crown prince, leading him to abandon the empire and flee to the north. The prince and saint, who died together in a great fire, and their vanished daughter.

That was all I knew of the tale that led to the demise of the Delphast Empire's royal lineage. That saint was my mother.

'Medea, you poisoned my mother's dagger to kill me.'

Before stabbing me with Ruchella, she cut my cheek with this dagger. The poison must have entered my body then.

A white rage blurred my vision.

Suddenly, as I heard the door open, someone entered the inner chamber. I hastily put the jewel box back in its place and exited through the window, observing the room from the windowsill.

Entering were Medea and Duke Laheart.

"That insolent brat, asking for a victory celebration despite being a criminal's son."

The husky high-pitched voice belonged to Duke Laheart.

"Maybe he's not entirely foolish. Perhaps he wants recognition for the triumph I've orchestrated?"

That was Medea.

"Hmph, what triumph? It was all thanks to me that he and his army could achieve victory."

They were discussing Sion Belpast, the Northern Duke.

I instantly knew what they were talking about. In my lifetime, the barbarians just south of the empire's border caused immense trouble.

They crossed the border, plundered the southern produce, set fire to the vast granaries, and slaughtered the people.

Around this time, the empire faced famine. The barbarians crossed over, killing the already suffering people and stealing enormous amounts of stored grain.

However, Duke Laheart of the South blamed the North for failing to protect the empire, claiming the Northern Duke took substantial military funding, leaving the South defenseless. Yet, he just watched the South's suffering.

It sounded plausible, but it was nothing more than cowardly shirking of responsibility. Most of the taxes collected were actually used for the central and southern regions, not the North.

Moreover, Duke Laheart secretly amassed an army with a portion of the illegally diverted taxes. Even the emperor was unaware of this.

Still, Duke Laheart blamed the South's security issues on the North. And the foolish emperor believed him.

Halta Le Shak.

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This novel has been translated up to chapter 66.

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