One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 114

“It’s over.”

Aireen’s sword pointed straight at Gibita’s shoulder.

After tearing through the darkness conjured by the last of Gibita’s strength, Aireen now stood face-to-face with her.

“AAAHHH!”

Gibita let out a piercing scream—her first time ever being stabbed—and the sound shook everyone’s ears.
Aireen stared at the sight without a hint of emotion.

Gripping her wound, Gibita collapsed, panting and gasping.
Thick, dark blood gushed from her lips in spurts.

“You lost. Lift the curse.”

Aireen murmured, her expression unmoved.
Her cold gaze locked on Gibita’s thin, trembling neck.

Should she just snap it?
Would killing this woman break Carlisle’s curse?

That dangerous thought crept in—until—

She suddenly sensed a powerful presence behind her.
Aireen tightened her grip on her sword and quickly turned.

“It’s me, Aireen.”

That voice—gentle and calm—sent a cold shiver down her back.

“…Siran.”

She spoke his name without thinking, not even calling him by his title.

“I’ll help. It’s better to take her with us if we want to break the curse.”

His voice was light and easy, just like always.
Only then did Aireen ease her shoulders and glance around.

While she had been lost in the heat of battle, the knights had followed behind and were finishing the cleanup.

“…Ah.”

Northern tribesmen lay groaning across the ground.
Though the Empire had its losses, the damage couldn’t compare.

This was a decisive victory for the Diert Empire.

But it meant little to Aireen.
Her entire focus was still on Carlisle—and on Gibita.

She turned to Siran.

“You’re right. It’s better if we take her. Thank you for coming. I’ll bind her myself.”

Siran nodded with his usual soft smile.

Aireen turned back and knelt beside Gibita.
As she tied her up, Siran stood just behind her, silently watching.
It should have felt reassuring—but an odd tension tugged at her chest, as if warning her of something.

“We’ll put her in the underground prison.”

“You’re going yourself?”

“Yes. I’d rather handle it. I just… don’t trust leaving her to someone else.”

“Alright, then. I’ll go with you. Two people make for better security anyway. Carlisle and Ashite aren’t available, so I’ll take their place for now.”

Aireen hesitated. Part of her wanted to go alone, to shake off this discomfort—
But if this feeling was her instinct warning that danger might come from within, having Siran at her side was still the safer choice.

“We should check on Carlisle first.”

She forced calm into her voice.
The war was over—but the most important battle had only just begun.

With Siran, Aireen escorted the bound Gibita back toward Carlisle.

Even though she had stuffed a cloth into Gibita’s mouth to stop her from speaking, Aireen couldn’t relax.
She held Gibita tightly, preventing even the slightest movement, and stood before Carlisle.

“…He’s still unconscious.”

Niar answered quietly in his place.

His face was pale, his cheeks sunken, his lips dry and cracked.
His clothes were soaked with blood, and though unconscious, pain was still etched into his brow.

Aireen’s grip tightened without meaning to.

“Mmgh!”

Gibita cried out, muffled by the cloth, but Aireen didn’t loosen her hold.
If anything, her grip grew even stronger.

“Let’s get him back to the castle. He needs a real bed and a physician.”

Siran stepped in when Aireen, at a loss for words, couldn’t speak.
He handled the moment gently, as if guiding a scared child.

But instead of immediately helping move Carlisle, Niar spoke again.

“…You should tend to your arm first.”

Aireen blinked, not understanding.

Niar let out a quiet sigh and added, “Your arm. At least treat the wound a little. I think that’s what the Commander would want.”

Carlisle’s pain wouldn’t disappear with a physician—not immediately, anyway.
That much was implied in Niar’s words.

Only then did Aireen glance at her own arm and finally notice the injury.
She hesitated, then nodded.

“Just a quick treatment, then.”

It was a reluctant decision—again, because of Carlisle.
If he woke and she was the one collapsed… he would be devastated.

Aireen clenched her jaw.
Even if she couldn’t save him now, she wouldn’t waste time.
She treated her wound quickly and efficiently.

“Let’s go.”

She resisted the urge to turn around and look at him again.
She couldn’t afford to slow down.

The road back to the castle was smooth.
The surviving northern tribes who had once surrounded the fortress were gone—taken away by Santinu.

“What happened?”

Ashite had come out with a wide smile, but it quickly faded when she saw the grim expressions.

Aireen didn’t answer. She just nodded her head toward the back.

“…Oh…”

Ashite’s breath caught in her throat when she saw Carlisle—unconscious, bloodied, and limp.

After learning the truth, she had tried to avoid him.
What he’d done to Aireen had made her furious—but knowing it was all for Aireen’s sake made things harder.
She didn’t know how to feel anymore.

Ashite preferred clarity.
But this wasn’t clear—it was confusing.

She’d thought once Aireen made up her mind, she would follow.
But she hadn’t expected things to get this far—
Not to the point where Carlisle might actually die.

“Take Carlisle somewhere safe and bring a physician. I’ll head to the dungeon with Aireen.”

Siran took over quickly, stepping in for the stunned Ashite.

Only then did she come back to herself, and she hurried off with Niar.

“…Let’s go.”

Aireen’s voice was quieter than usual, weighted and calm.

The two of them stopped the knights and soldiers from following. It was better this way—just the two of them. There was no telling if enemy spies still lurked, and the fewer people present, the lower the risk.

“If you ever feel like lifting Carlisle’s curse, say the word. Until then, I’ll show you what real hell feels like.”

Aireen threw Gibita onto the cold stone floor without care. Her tone was ice-cold.

To keep her from biting her tongue or uttering a spell, Gibita still had the gag in her mouth.
She couldn’t respond, but even if she could, she had no intention of answering honestly.

The humiliation was unbearable.
A mere swordswoman, nothing more than a trained killer—how dare she corner her like this?

Gibita, once revered by northern tribes and never exposed to direct combat on such a scale, could not accept the reality before her.
Consumed by rage, she glared up at Aireen with venom in her eyes.

“I’ll be watching you myself. I’ll be the one to make you talk. So it’ll be in your best interest to cooperate,” Aireen said coolly.

There was nothing light about the threat—just bitter, unfiltered hatred.
A sudden chill rippled over Gibita’s skin, and her shoulders trembled involuntarily.

“You’re going to watch her yourself?”

Siran, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. Aireen answered without shifting her gaze from Gibita.

“Yes. It gives me peace of mind.”

“Hmm. I could’ve done it. Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping you’d say no.”

“…What?”

Before she could process what he meant, Aireen instinctively leapt back.

“What are you doing?!”

Her voice cracked with disbelief as she stared at the spot where Siran’s blade had just stabbed—right where she had been standing moments before.

“Exactly what it looks like.”

Gone was his usual soft smile.
His face was blank, cold, and eerily unfamiliar.

“I’m sorry, Aireen. I didn’t want this either. But I had no choice.”

His voice was calm, almost hollow—like someone apologizing out of habit, not remorse.

“Why…? Why are you doing this if you don’t want to?”

She couldn’t comprehend it. Her face twisted with confusion.

“I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this. But… I had to.”

“Had to?”

“I’m sorry.”

There wasn’t even a flicker of emotion in that short apology.

A cold dread spread through her chest.
It felt unreal—Siran, of all people?

He had been there since she was young. He was her older brother Ashite’s close friend. He had been a reliable superior and someone she trusted deeply. There was no logic in this. No reason for him to want her dead.

But there was no more time to think.

As if to snap her out of denial, Siran lunged forward with relentless force.

Aireen gritted her teeth and raised her sword.

Clang! Clang!

Steel clashed in sharp bursts, ringing through the air like thunder in her veins.

She searched for an opening—and when the tiniest gap appeared, she took a short breath and asked quietly,

“…So you really did betray us?”

“You’re still so naïve, Aireen.”

“Just answer me! Did you betray us?!”

“Learn to question everyone, Aireen. You trust too easily. That’s your weakness.”

“Siran!”

But Siran said no more.
His attacks only grew fiercer.

His broad blade whistled through the air and cut toward her left flank.
Aireen twisted away just in time, and Siran followed through, adjusting his angle to keep up.

“Siran!”

The blade sang again as it cut through the air. It aimed straight for her ribs.
Instead of retreating, Aireen blocked with all her strength.

Clang!
The steel-on-steel clash rang sharp and high.

“Why are you doing this?”

His intent to kill was clear—but there was no hatred in it. No personal malice.

And that’s what made it worse.

If there had been fury or revenge in his strikes, she might have fought back with the same resolve. But this… this was too clinical, too cold.

“Stop it! Stop this, right now!”

Her desperate cry was ignored.

Aireen bit the inside of her cheek hard.
No more doubt—Siran was a traitor. This wasn’t a ploy or a test.
His sword didn’t pull its punches.

She dodged another blow, angling her body sharply and letting his strike skim past her.

“This ends now.”

She moved her arm.
Siran’s swordplay was strong, perhaps stronger than he had ever shown before.
But it wasn’t enough to overpower her.

Her blade curved mid-swing, aiming just above his chest—a spot that wouldn’t kill.

She moved like lightning.
The edge of her blade tore through the air and slashed below his collarbone.

Clang!

“You blocked that?”

“I have to kill you.”

Aireen froze for a split second.

And Siran didn’t waste it.

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