It's Too Late for Regrets - Chapter 10.7

Compared to a god who only exists through belief, evil is always close by, tempting humans.

 

Under the royal castle of Jenaire, there was a chapel where such evil had made its nest. It was a relic that had existed since ancient times.

 

Even after the royal castle of Jenaire was built above it, the place continued to be used as a public chapel.

 

It was a place to pray to God, but also a place where people poured out their resentment toward a god who offered no salvation.

 

A place where good and evil crossed, where light and darkness faced each other, where gods and demons coexisted.

 

The oldest darkness had existed there for thousands of years, listening to human prayers and feeding on their misfortune.

 

That thing, without will or reason, gradually grew stronger and eventually became powerful enough to overwhelm humans.

 

When it finally left the chapel and began devouring people mercilessly, Jenaire began searching for shamans.

 

The shamans completed their mission brilliantly.

 

Though there were several close calls along the way, they eventually succeeded in making the oldest darkness only able to survive by attaching itself to a host.

 

And when the imperial family managed to cast that host aside by sending it to Lezan at just the right time, the empire rejoiced, believing it had finally rid itself of the dreadful darkness that had consumed the royal castle.

 

At last, Satan was completely gone from their empire, and only the light and glory granted by God filled the lives of the imperial family and all people.

 

But exactly six years after they felt that relief—

 

With the death of the host, Jenaire was brutally trampled by knights clad in silver and green and by barbarians.

 

“Praying to God didn’t help much, did it?”

 

Startled from his thoughts, the prince looked up in shock.

 

Sitting on the edge of an old bed was a man with dazzling silver hair. It was unclear how long he had been there.

 

The man was soaked from head to toe. The prince stepped back, clearly alarmed.

 

“…Eleanor.”

 

The enemy of Jenaire, the ruler of the duchy, swept his wet hair back and spoke.

 

“That’s how it is. God doesn’t answer the most desperate prayers. He makes humans fall into despair and drags them into the pit of evil.”

 

It wasn’t hard to grasp the situation from those words alone. The ritual had failed. The prince clenched his fists tightly.

 

“I’ll admit it was a good decision. But it came far too late.”

 

Rain fell as the evening turned dark and damp. The time when the sun and sky were hidden was perfect for the oldest darkness to roam free.

 

The uninvited guest stared out the window and muttered.

 

“If it were me, I wouldn’t have brought that back into her body unless I was sure I could handle the consequences.”

 

Whatever demon possessed him, the duke outwardly appeared cold and emotionless.

 

But he had worn that same face when he severed the Jenaire emperor’s neck in a single stroke.

 

Looking briefly at the terrified prince, Rayan smirked.

 

“If you had only kidnapped my wife, I wouldn’t have gone this far. I’m not a loyal servant of Lezan like you all think.”

 

“….”

 

“If it were me, after kidnapping her, I would’ve tried to negotiate with you. I would’ve hurt Ines little by little while demanding the emperor’s head. Then I gladly would’ve done it…”

 

Had they done that, Edgar’s head would’ve rolled across the floor before Ines even let out a small whimper.

 

Idiots. Knowing your enemy should always come first in any kind of battle.

 

They had completely misunderstood his priorities and lost a golden opportunity. They had no one to blame but themselves.

 

As the duke rose to his feet, the second prince’s eyes widened.

 

In just two steps, the man was right in front of him. He grabbed the prince by the collar and pulled him forcefully.

 

A devilish whisper echoed in his ear.

 

“Now it’s time for you to pay the price.”

 

The prince, nearly as tall and strong as Rayan, couldn’t even resist before being choked.

 

 

The air was filled with the stench of blood.

 

The old trees surrounding the clearing were all broken at the trunk. With the thick branches above gone, the stormy sky was clearly visible.

 

The shredded bodies of the seven shamans and the former prince of Jenaire were scattered grotesquely across the ground.

 

Grrr…

 

A red wolf growled and tore a leg from someone’s torso with savage hunger.

 

Sitting on a broken tree trunk, Kian silently stared at the scene.

 

More precisely, at the man standing in the middle of the clearing.

 

Feeling the intense gaze, Rayan looked up.

 

“…You look like you want to kill me right now.”

 

“So you can tell.”

 

Kian didn’t want to kill that arrogant Jenaire prince—he wanted to snap this man’s neck and rip his limbs apart before dumping him in some forgotten place.

 

He had finally found a body suitable for Ines to start over.

 

It had only been two years. She hadn’t even taken a proper step forward yet…

 

Now, because of some shamans and this duke’s sudden interference, everything was ruined.

 

Kian’s eyes burned fiercely as he glared at Rayan.

 

“Send Ines back. Now.”

 

“Send her back? Where to?”

 

Rayan’s voice sounded genuinely curious.

 

“Where could Ines possibly go?”

 

“….”

 

“The Duchess of Eleanor, thought to be dead—where does she have to return to now?”

 

Objectively, Ines had nowhere to go but back to Eleanor. Even Celia Irope was in that condition now.

 

Kian clicked his tongue as he looked at the unconscious woman lying carelessly against the tree trunk.

 

He couldn’t just let Celia go. She was too loose-lipped.

 

Rayan muttered without emotion.

 

“She had to return to her original state sooner or later. It just happened a little earlier than expected.”

 

He nudged a piece of flesh at his feet with the tip of his sword and tilted his head back to look up at the sky.

 

He liked the rain.

 

The heavy downpour washed away the messy remains and the stench of blood on him.

 

Rayan, soaking wet, calculated how much longer he could stay in the forest.

 

When he dragged the Jenaire prince out, he confirmed that tension filled the Lezan palace.

 

The emperor’s fiancée had gone missing during the hunt, so the palace would likely send every available person into the forest to search.

 

But once it was confirmed that Celia was safe, there would no longer be any reason to search.

 

“…Take that woman to the Irope count’s mansion. She won’t be waking up for quite a while anyway.”

 

Of course Edgar would suspect him. But even if he sent knights to search every inch of the duke’s estate, they’d find nothing.

 

Until the rain stopped, both he and she would remain in this forest.

 

Time that had escaped the eyes of the entire world—what kind of paradise would that little cabin be for them now?

 

Rayan turned his back to Kian, suppressing a strange thrill.

 

Then, he walked away.

 

 

Though the sun hadn’t set yet, Ines looked out at a world as dark as midnight.

 

The rain still poured, and the wind howled violently. The sound of the wind was loud even inside the house.

 

At this point, it wasn’t just heavy rain—it was a storm.

 

Rayan had brought Ines to an abandoned cabin at the edge of the forest and mountain.

 

It seemed to have once been a shelter for forest rangers or lost travelers, but it hadn’t been used in a long time.

 

<Don’t go anywhere. Just stay here for a little while. Please.>

 

The duke had begged her over and over as he forced her to lie on the bed.

 

<It’s raining hard outside. I don’t want to say this, but please don’t go out. I’ll be back soon.>

 

There was no need to worry. She wasn’t reckless enough to wander outside in this storm.

 

The fire in the stove he lit was slowly dying.

 

A few logs from the pile beside it would bring it back to life, but Ines stayed curled up in the corner of the bed, unmoving.

 

In truth, she didn’t feel much cold. Not just cold—she couldn’t feel her body at all.

 

Ines turned her pale hands over.

 

Thin wrists, the blue veins visible beneath her almost transparent skin.

 

Her slender fingers looked like they would break with just a slight squeeze.

 

Her whole body looked like that. She looked completely lifeless.

 

‘Maybe it’s because this body once died.’

 

Ines sighed and leaned her head against the wall.

 

It was a body she had once sworn to reclaim, yet now that she had it back, there was a bitter taste on her tongue. It felt like confirmation that even physically, she was insignificant.

 

But this wasn’t the time for useless despair.

 

Ines calmly reviewed everything that had happened in the past few hours.

 

Just before she returned to her original body through the shamans of Jenaire, she clearly remembered what they had said.

 

<The daughter of Kanok, host of misfortune—we’ve finally found you.>

 

Kanok. That must have been the name of the father who gave her life.

 

And “misfortune” referred to Jenaire’s oldest darkness.

 

Based on the context, it was clear that for decades, the Jenaire royal family had secretly ordered the shamans to seal away that ancient darkness they had long feared.

 

During that time, the shaman Kanok and the second princess had a relationship, and Ines was born.

 

They sealed the darkness within Ines. That’s how she came to be known as the “host of misfortune.”

 

They despised her but couldn’t bring themselves to kill her—so they discarded her in Lezan. And now, they wanted her back.

 

Ines stared intently at her hands, remembering the black mist from earlier.

 

‘The power they tried to return to me… I’ve felt it before…’

 

Just for a moment, that unknown power that flowed through her touched the veil of forgetfulness that had covered her mind.

 

The shamans had called her the “perfect host.”

 

To be perfect meant… that she could completely…

 

Since the Jenairens chose it as their last option to rise again—then, thinking in reverse, the her from the past must have had two completely opposite powers.
The power of the oldest darkness that obeyed her.

 

And the power of the shamans who could perfectly control it.

 

‘Now that I think about it, the ancient language they chanted—I had never heard it before, but I could understand all of it.’