Living a Scheming Marriage with a Mad Villain - Chapter 69

It seemed there was nothing more to find here. Reus turned back and returned to the old library. There weren’t many books compared to the size of the library, so it didn’t seem like it would take too long to search through them.

For now, he planned to look for any information about the power said to be passed down through the family. Reus calmly began examining the books one by one.

Fortunately, he found an old book that described in great detail the power inherited by the Rochester family.

Reus slowly read through the somewhat fairytale-like story.

[A very long time ago, a woman who survived many tragic nights asked the heavens how to end the misfortune that was causing chaos in the world. Then, the moon goddess, who watches over and rules the night, answered her call. The woman begged the goddess with all her heart to tell her how to protect people from hunger, conflict, and pain. Moved by the heart of a woman who had not lost her kindness even in a world on the brink of ruin, the moon goddess lent her a part of her divine power, saying that this world would begin again through her. The woman asked how long this power would last. The moon goddess replied: until the next inevitable destruction. The woman then asked why she was being given the beginning of the world while destruction was already being foretold. The moon goddess, with deep sorrow, revealed the truth. The fate of the world can never be changed. And finally, she told the woman: The desire to protect something is not wrong. Whatever choice you make, you will come to realize that it too is part of fate.]

The secret of the Rochester family that had intrigued the Emperor, and that his father never told him as a child.

It was the blessing and partial power of the moon goddess, granted to the Rochester family.

Because of that, the family inherited the power to heal, and the family head gained not only healing power but also immense magical energy.

The book said that many people on the brink of death were saved by those who had gained this power. It also recorded how the family head’s magic kept the healing power of the others strong, and how the title and power were passed down.

However, at some point, the Rochester began hiding their healing abilities instead of helping as many people as possible.

[At first, those who returned from the brink of death held our hands and were grateful. They knelt and cried. But that didn’t last long. Soon, they all changed and tried to steal our power. If not that, they clung to us, begging for mercy, and when we refused, they blamed us for all the deaths in the world. Too many of our people died unjustly under the criticism of others.]

Too many people were jealous of the healing power. Most of all, they feared the magical energy that strengthened the moon’s divine power.

[The mysterious power from the moon goddess resembled the color of the night sky. And that became our greatest weakness.
Whenever I revealed my power—whether or not the person was saved—everyone labeled us as demons. I knew then that the time to make a choice had come.]

The healing power that once most of the Rochester family could use gradually disappeared. Now, only the family head could understand and handle its source.

The heir was chosen through a special ritual, during which both the moon’s divine power and the vast magical energy that strengthened it would be completely passed to the next head.

But the problem was that this ritual had become very complex and secretive over time. According to the old book, two people had to make a vow and share blood to perform the ritual.

That meant two were needed: the current head and the successor.

But Rikassen had long since died, with only the source of his power barely surviving, drifting somewhere unknown. Naturally, Reus had no idea where his father was.

Hoping for another way, he searched every book that mentioned the power, but even those required retrieving Rikassen’s heart before anything could begin.

“Was finding the power impossible after all, even in the library?”

Still, it was too soon to give up. Reus started searching the secret library again, this time much more carefully.

While opening the drawer of a small desk tucked in a corner, Reus froze.

There were two framed pictures inside. One was a family photo, and the other was a picture of himself as a child.

The glass of the frames was covered with fingerprints—especially where his face was.

They were likely his father’s.

Reus wanted to place his own hand over those prints, but stopped himself.

He felt like if he touched it, he wouldn’t be able to do anything else.

So he just sat there in front of the desk for a while. After regaining a bit of composure, he opened the other drawer.

Inside were several familiar items.

The first thing that caught his eye was a silver fountain pen. Rikassen, his father, had used it almost every day, so seeing it instantly brought back old memories.

Then Reus saw an old leather notebook in the back of the drawer.

When he opened it, he found dates and days of the week written in his father’s handwriting at the top, followed by records of daily life.

Reus had found his father’s journal.

He hesitated, wondering if he should close it again, but thought there might be a clue inside. So he began reading slowly.

But he soon regretted it.

The journal was filled with his daily life, seen through his father’s eyes.

There were memories Reus barely remembered—drawing next to his mother in the attic, crying after getting lost in the garden maze until his father found him and hugged him, falling asleep in a wardrobe during hide-and-seek, causing everyone in the palace to panic.

Forgotten memories slowly came back.

His throat felt tight, like it was stuffed with wet cotton.

The truth was, Reus had wanted to cry ever since he entered the secret library. His chest felt full, and it wouldn’t have been strange if tears came—but they didn’t.

Not because he held them back. It was just that Reus had forgotten how to cry.

After a life filled with sadness, when every day hurt, he no longer knew when he was supposed to cry.

Just when he thought he should stop reading, his hand paused over the journal.

The entries changed at some point—from daily life to his father’s inner thoughts.

That turning point was right after Rikassen saved the Emperor, Den.

The journal reached its final page.

It was Rikassen’s last entry, written just before he rushed off after hearing tragic news from the family of Reus’s mother, Yullivia.

[Just a few days ago, I saw Count Erno and the countess. But now I hear they’ve both died. Yullivia cried in sorrow and said she had to return to her family. She’s preparing to leave the palace. Of course, I will go with her. But I didn’t tell her—something feels wrong. The count and countess’s deaths seem too unnatural. A letter from Count Erno arrived just yesterday, saying he had returned safely. It mentioned they were expecting an important guest today who would stay for about a week. So how could they be found dead far from their estate? Still, just as Yullivia said, with her parents dead, we can’t just stay in the palace. But… it looks like I’ll have to leave Reus behind.
I don’t know why this memory comes to mind now, but I remember Den once asking: if you could only choose one—your wife or your son—who would you choose…?]

Reus couldn’t read anymore. He shut the notebook roughly.

Though Rikassen’s writing had been calm, anyone could see he sensed the tragedy to come.

Going to the library when his wife was unwell, slipping a note into the journal hoping his son would one day find it, writing in a rushed hand about the hidden spaces and secrets—all of it felt too deliberate.

The deaths of the Count and Countess of Erno were just as suspicious.

There was a time when Reus briefly resented his parents for leaving him behind.

He hadn’t known what guilt his father carried as he left the palace, or what emotions led him to choose Reus.

Thinking of that, Reus wanted to cry again.

Reus placed Rikassen’s journal back in the drawer and began searching the hidden rooms and family heirlooms left behind in the secret library.

He thought maybe one of the secret places would hold an important clue—but nothing seemed useful.

To be exact, everything there was beyond his ability to use, since he had no power.

Except for one thing.

A longsword with a black blade. He found a book mentioned in Rikassen’s note and read a brief explanation.

The sword was not made of metal but was a collection of magic energy. Its purpose was to gather uncontrolled magic…

“To gather magic?”

Suddenly, a realization struck Reus like lightning.

As a direct descendant of the Rochester family, he had a faint healing ability—but no dark magic at all. That’s why he never even considered trying the ritual another way.

But what if he didn’t need to use the magic himself—only control it indirectly?

“And does the place even matter?”

No book had said the ritual had to take place in a specific location. The area behind the library was made for the family head to train and refine their power—Reus was sure of that.

If he could escape the limits of location, use the heirloom to absorb the family’s power, and perform the ritual without controlling the magic directly…

Without hesitation, Reus headed straight for the Forest of Silence.

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