Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 95

“Just living was exhausting. Breathing, existing. The world moved on without me, and I hated it for that.”

Gillan’s lips parted slightly. He seemed to struggle with something, then finally asked,

“How did you get past that feeling?”

At that, Calliope let out an unexpected laugh, a clear, soft sound that hung in the air. Gillan flinched slightly.

“How did I get past it?”

Her crimson eyes shimmered in the hall’s gentle light.

“I haven’t.”

She clenched the flower she’d been toying with in her palm. Its lovely form crumpled and twisted under her grip.

“I’m not there yet. Not fully. I haven’t completely escaped it.”

Even though Isaac was finally hers, there was still a looming threat she hadn’t overcome. Only once she destroyed it completely would she regain the happiness and love she had long dreamed of. That girl who had once hated the world, hated her own existence—struggling just to breathe—still lived inside her.

“Does that answer your question?”

Gillan’s green eyes darkened, unreadable. His voice was low.

“…Yes.”

“Well then, shall we get back to the real reason you came here? What was it you wanted to tell me?”

“I only wanted to confirm something again. That you wouldn’t tell anyone I’m a mage.”

“That’s not a request. That’s a command.”

She dropped the ruined flower to the floor and lightly stepped on it, locking eyes with him.

“How arrogant.”

“…I’m sorry. I mean—please. I’m asking you.”

“Just this once, I’ll let it go. I can understand, to some extent.”

Crunch. The flower beneath her shoe tore apart.

“Are you trying to get revenge on someone?”

He didn’t answer.

“On who? Ah—never mind. You don’t need to tell me.”

It was probably his family—the ones who disregarded him. Maybe the reason his powers had remained hidden for so long was because he had taken a different path to revenge—like marrying into House Berche. Or perhaps… he never got the chance to complete that revenge before his end.

Calliope wasn’t deeply invested in his story. She cared only enough to understand the context.

“Well then, I hope you succeed.”

“…You’re wishing me well?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“…You’re a strange person.”

She gave a faint smile and rose from her seat, brushing past him.

“I hear that often.”

And with that whispered reply, she left him behind.

Fortunately, Isaac’s birthday party ended without incident. Gillan vanished at some point without anyone noticing, and even his sister Callie had slipped away.

That night, Calliope staying late in Isaac’s room, hanging around his bed, had become such a normal event that no one paid it any mind.

Well, no one except Carolie, who sulked all alone.

Kaphir’s Gift

The next morning, after sending Isaac back to the palace, Calliope returned to her office. She was looking for the book that Kaphir had gifted her.

She remembered placing it somewhere on the shelf. It didn’t take long to find, it stood out, a titleless book with old pages that gave away nothing.

Now that she had a closer look, the letters on the cover resembled the ones she’d seen at the Andres estate those strange, hard-to-read symbols.

“A rare book, he said…”

Language does shift with time. But to her knowledge, there had been no major changes in the written script in the past hundred years.

“So that would make this… even older than that.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be grateful or suspicious that Callie Andres had handed over such an old book without hesitation.

Well, she could worry about someone else’s child later.

For now, she sat down at her desk and opened the book. Her brow immediately furrowed. From the very first line, the characters were ancient—far too obscure to read easily.

“I’m going to need material on ancient scripts…”

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like some kind of coded message. Just extremely old language.

“Jack.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Head to the royal archives. Look for anything you can find on old alphabets and writing systems.”

“How far back do you mean by ‘old’?”

Calliope was about to say, “Just bring everything,” but paused. Then she spoke, almost impulsively:

“As far back as possible. Ideally…”

She ran her fingers along the book’s aged corner.

“…around five hundred years ago.”

Jack tilted his head, puzzled.

“I don’t know if they’ll even allow access to books that old… but I’ll try.”

“If it doesn’t work out, we’ll find another way. I’m counting on you.”

“Yes, my lady.”

From the side, Susan chimed in.

“My lady, why are you suddenly interested in that sort of thing?”

“I have use for it.”

“See? You always say things like that.”

Calliope ruffled Susan’s hair absentmindedly. Apparently satisfied, Susan didn’t press further.

Calliope dismissed her and sat back at her desk, craving some quiet. She began to gather her thoughts.

“Two years until the Demon King’s resurrection.”

Soon, the steadily increasing monster activity would explode into a full-scale crisis. Fortunately, since she co-managed several of the marquisate’s estates, Calliope had already put measures in place. Circe had asked a few suspicious questions at the time, but Calliope had deflected them by citing the rise in monster sightings. Even Illan seemed convinced.

“I already floated the idea of fortifying defenses. The other estates should be fine.”

Then she remembered what she’d casually mentioned to Otis. That had been even earlier. She wondered if he’d actually followed through. Defense work took at least a year to complete—he might’ve forgotten altogether.

“Well, if he didn’t, that’s on him.”

She had done her part. She owed nothing more.

“If there are two years left, then that means the Saintess will arrive in one.”

She tapped her fingers on the desk.

One year. Just one.

Her mind drifted to the image of Isaac kneeling before the Saintess in her past life. She let out a laugh—deliberate, but hollow.

“Not this time.”

She smiled to herself, but there was no joy behind it.

“Even if the world burns, I won’t let him go.”

Clementia. The Empire’s Saintess.

She didn’t care what tricks Clementia used last time but this time, Isaac wouldn’t betray her. He wouldn’t go to her. Never again.

“Never.”

Her polished nails dug into the soft wood of her desk.

Scritch. Scratch. A long groove carved its way across the surface.

Her eyes stared blankly into space, her thoughts slipping back into the past.

“One year left. I’ll need even tighter defenses.”

To her, Clementia was far more of a threat than the Demon King.

She was the one who would try to steal everything—the Saintess, that cursed woman.

Just then—knock knock—someone rapped gently at the door.

“Are you in there?”

Surprisingly, it was Circe.

Calliope blinked and stood to open the door herself. It was rare for Circe to come to her private office.

Circe entered with a lady-in-waiting. Calliope guided her to the sofa and asked,

“What brings you here?”

“A letter arrived from the royal palace.”

“A letter? What kind of letter?”

Circe handed over an envelope sealed with the royal crest. As Calliope opened it and read, her body stiffened.

“The Saintess of the Empire is coming,” Circe said quietly.

The word Empire leapt from the page.

Clementia was coming. The royal palace had officially announced her arrival.

Calliope’s mind went blank.

“So soon? A full year early…?”

Her eyes trembled with shock. She had no idea what had changed—what variables had speed things up.

Circe noticed her strange reaction and asked gently,

“What do you mean?”

“…Ah.”

Calliope quickly snapped out of it and shook her head.

“No, it’s nothing.”

She handed the letter back, feigning composure, though her fingers trembled slightly. Circe noticed—but said nothing.

“They said the Empire’s temple gave very short notice. The royal family had no reason to refuse. We suggested a spring visit, but the temple insisted on arriving as soon as possible. No reason was given.”

“And why publicize it so openly?”

“The Empire specifically asked us to announce it ahead of time. I’m not sure what they’re planning, but I intend to investigate.”

Calliope didn’t reply—she simply bowed her head slightly.

She assumed the Saintess was coming to find the Hero who would fight the Demon King.

But why so early? What changed?

“We’ll know for sure when they arrive,” she said at last.

“That’s what I think as well. Still, it’s best to be prepared.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Calliope raised her head.

Circe flinched.

Calliope was trying to appear composed, but the swirl of emotion in her eyes—confusion, obsession, and something else entirely—was impossible to miss.

“There won’t be any trouble for our family.”

Because this wasn’t a problem for House Anastas.

It was her problem. Her disaster.

The Demon King’s resurrection would become an international crisis.

But the Saintess…

“…She’s, my catastrophe.”

✦✦✦

A red priestess robe fluttered in the wind.

The moon hung high in the sky. Crimson hair, the same shade as her robes, billowed in the breeze.

Saintess Clementia stood alone in the moonlit corridor of the Empire’s temple, lost in thought.

At her side, the brown-haired knight Wolfgang asked quietly,

“…Are you worried, my lady?”

“…Yes. I think I am.”

She raised a hand and gently pressed it to her face.

Her green eyes were clouded with doubt.

After a long silence, she turned to face him.

Wolfgang Perta—a knight who, along with the Saintess and the temple, had been discovered in ancient records from five hundred years ago, hidden in the imperial palace.

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