The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 95

Amel shuddered slightly as she glanced at the clock. Midnight had long passed, and at this rate, she wouldn’t be able to sleep until dawn.

She lowered the hand that had been clutching her pillow and ran her fingers through Kyle’s hair. His sweat-dampened strands clung to his face in a way that was irresistibly seductive.

“Kyle…”

Normally, at this point, he would have made a face like a puppy whose food bowl had been taken away, sulking whenever she hinted that it was time to sleep.

But now that Kylean Chaield had fully grasped the fact that he was deeply loved, he had become an even more dangerous beast.

He paused what he was doing, running the back of his hand across his damp lips. Amel held her breath as she looked down at his sensual expression.

His eyes, tinged with excitement, narrowed slightly. His crimson irises shimmered like the most dazzling gemstones in existence.

“Just a little longer.”

With languid movements, Kyle pressed a kiss to each of Amel’s knuckles. Serving his fiancée with unwavering devotion was his greatest joy.

Overwhelmed by such a formidable temptation, Amel let out a small laugh and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. She knew Kyle was testing the limits of what she would allow, seeing just how far he could push his love.

“Don’t worry. I’ll still love you, even if you don’t let me sleep.”

Satisfied with her answer, Kyle finally lifted himself from where he had been and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. This exchange had been going on for hours.

Time stretched as Kyle pushed her breath to its limits, only to meet her gaze sweetly. The moment she reassured him of her love, he would be consumed by euphoria, his blood running hot.

A never-ending cycle of seeking, testing, and reaffirming love.

＊＊＊

Chaield’s ever-loyal butler, Hild Weil, was currently under work suspension. For reasons unknown to him.

He was certain he hadn’t made any mistakes, yet his master kept assigning him trivial tasks—tending to the gardens, sorting letters—none of which required his skills.

Catching the old woman who had unleashed beasts and threatened Lady Amel should have been the priority, but instead, he was being made to do pointless errands. The workaholic butler’s patience was reaching its limits.

Today’s order? To prepare a bouquet of vibrant roses.

Despite the fact that the estate employed over ten gardeners, his master had specifically assigned him this task. Why?

‘It must be because the bouquet is for Lady Amel. He wants it to be special.’

Deciding not to overthink things, Hild focused on trimming the flowers.

As he moved from one bloom to the next like a diligent bumblebee, he overheard murmuring from the estate’s annex.

“So, that’s why he hired a whole squad of alchemists…”

“Well, good for us. That house never runs out of money.”

The voices belonged to alchemists recruited from Traiha.

Of course, they had signed lifetime contracts in true Chaield fashion, and since it was Hild who had secured those contracts, he recognized their faces.

The alchemists, noticing the butler wandering through the gardens with a ridiculous amount of flowers, exchanged amused glances before greeting him.

“That’s quite the bouquet… The duke and his wife really are full of love, aren’t they?”

“Haha, indeed. How’s the lab? Are you settling in well?”

“More than well! I’ve never seen such a well-equipped research facility.”

“The duke has spared no expense. I hope your research yields results.”

Though it was meant as a mere pleasantry, the alchemists responded with unmistakable pride.

“We already submitted a report on that old woman—the one who released the beasts. The methods used on her were… disturbingly cruel.”

“Cruel methods?”

“Yes. They used alchemy to artificially age her body, making it easier to control her mind.”

“Well, I’ll be damned… I’ve dedicated my life to alchemy, but I’ve never seen anything like that before. If there were still traces of it left on the beasts the duke captured, the process must have been excruciating.”

“What kind of person would use such a horrific method…?”

Hild frowned, nearly dropping the bouquet he was holding.

“So you’re saying the old woman was under Marabas’s control?”

“Precisely. But how she ended up as a pawn is the real question. Wasn’t Marabas supposed to be in Traiha? Most people wouldn’t be able to wield Arete’s power from such a distance.”

“That alchemist must be incredibly skilled.”

The moment Hild made this remark, the Traiha alchemists all shook their heads in unison.

“This has nothing to do with Marabas’s skill—it’s the old woman who’s remarkable. For some reason, she seems highly attuned to Arete’s power.”

“Yes, exactly. Almost as if she’s been exposed to it for an extended period.”

The alchemists exchanged curious comments before wrapping up their break and heading back to their research.

Hild, however, remained rooted in place, unable to move.

Why?

A vivid image surfaced in his mind—his wife standing guard in the underground chamber of the estate.

＊＊＊

No matter how lax the laws of the Traiha Empire were, discipline among the imperial palace’s employees was strictly enforced.

Drinking while on duty was absolutely forbidden.

However, there was one position in which perpetual drunkenness was not only tolerated but practically expected.

“Damn it… I swear I left that fancy bottle of liquor here somewhere…”

Jeremy, the palace’s longtime mortuary keeper, was once again completely inebriated as he rummaged through the shelves in search of his drink.

Managing all the corpses that passed through these halls was simply unbearable without a constant haze of alcohol.

Until recently, he had only ever drowned himself in cheap liquor, but a few days ago, he had received a lavish bottle stamped with the imperial seal of Traiha.

It had come with a request—a direct order from the higher-ups to ensure special care for one particular body, pending an autopsy.

“A corpse is a corpse. So what if he was some genius alchemist? …But seriously, where the hell did my drink go?”

Jeremy groaned, rubbing his throbbing temples as he groped around the shelves.

And then—he froze.

Every hair on his body stood on end.

Someone was watching him.

“Looking for this?”

“ACK—!”

A voice. In a room filled with nothing but corpses.

Jeremy, a veteran of the mortuary, foamed at the mouth and collapsed on the spot.

In the silent, frigid mortuary, a man with navy-blue eyes and hair drank strong liquor as if it were water.

How bothersome.

Marabas Rydell tore off the identification tag that had been placed on his corpse and burned it before setting the half-empty bottle down on the floor.

A sane person would find it unbearable to be in a morgue filled with corpses. But that did not apply to him.

“Recruiting new forces is such a hassle. I’d rather not do this twice.”

With a simple motion of his hand, an enormous magic circle flared to life, summoning the old woman—Cordelia Weil. A tool of utmost utility when performing large-scale magic or wielding Arete.

“Cordelia, I need you to extend your power across the sea. I’m counting on you.”

“Ah… Aah…”

“Don’t resist. Just accept it. Soon, I’ll let you walk upon the homeland you so desperately long for.”

With a cold, twisted smile, Marabas gripped her face. The frail moan escaping her lips soon faded into silence.

Moments later, the corpses scattered throughout the morgue began to twitch, their joints bending unnaturally as they rose.

＊＊＊

Enoch arrived in the Heil Empire on the very day of the engagement ceremony.

Considering how foreign dignitaries usually planned their schedules with ample time for leisure and sightseeing, his itinerary was suffocatingly tight.

One could interpret this as a sign that Traiha was taking the unfortunate incident at the Royal Lily Medal Ceremony with utmost seriousness.

While Kyle went to greet Enoch and speak with Verd, I took the opportunity to scan the newspapers. Every single article was about the emperor’s engagement.

It’s a relief that Ithar isn’t here, but it’s too soon to relax.

If Marabas was using Cordelia, his Arete-based mind control could be applied in limitless ways. Not to mention, he was highly skilled in all manner of sorcery.

Even while his body remains in Traiha, he can extend his influence all the way to the Heil Empire.

That was all the more reason to stay alert.

After finishing my preparations for the ceremony, I boarded the carriage with Vanessa. There was something I needed to give her.

“Take this, Vanessa. But don’t open it yet.”

Vanessa accepted the small box with her hands neatly cupped together, like a child receiving New Year’s money. She had no idea that inside was the Flashroot Claire had purchased earlier.

“Vanessa, if something happens, I’ll give you a signal. That’s when you open it.”

“What if nothing happens and you don’t give the signal?”

“Well… in that case, just hold onto it and take it as part of your retirement package when I die. But not before then.”

Since the timing of this gift’s use was crucial, I quickly changed the subject to distract her from her visible disappointment.

“By the way, Vanessa, have you heard the rumors about the grave robbers at the cemetery?”

“Oh, come on. I may be obsessed with money, but I wouldn’t go digging up graves. What could I possibly find there?”

Why did she automatically assume I was accusing her? Shaking my head, I motioned for her to come closer and handed her a newspaper.

“Look at this. Apparently, several graves in the capital’s cemetery have been found dug up recently.”

“That’s some interesting timing. I mean, they said Marabas was found dead in Traiha, but… Wait.”

Vanessa rubbed her arms, shivering. Honestly, I’d had the same reaction when this thought first crossed my mind, except I had burrowed straight into Kyle’s embrace for warmth.

“Marabas can control the dead however he pleases. Considering the kind of powers he already uses, it wouldn’t be surprising if he decided to use his own corpse as a tool.”

“Madam, seriously… How do you come up with these things? I thought only that bastard Marabas would think like that.”

“Was that a compliment or an insult?”

Being compared to Marabas was far from pleasant. He seemed even less ethically constrained than he had been in the original story.

“The odds are high that Marabas will use the undead to launch an attack. It may not happen, but it’s best to prepare for the possibility.”

I had no intention of taking pity on anyone if they stood in the way of my happy ending—especially not if they were part of Ithar’s faction, which was practically a disaster waiting to happen.

And with that, our carriage set off toward the site of what would undoubtedly become a historic engagement ceremony.

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