Before long, autumn was approaching, and the energy of summer was slowly fading away. The dry, cool air filled the world, and the scent of fall grew stronger. The once vibrant green hues turned into soft browns, and the leaves that had shone brightly began to rustle, scattering in the wind.

Ail sat alone in his office, gazing out the window, listening to the sound of the rustling leaves. He closed his eyes as the crunching sound reached his ears. It was the sound of something breaking—drying, shattering.

At the sound of the rustling, Ail opened his eyes again and looked out at the garden. It had been about three weeks since Ruth had left. The wound on his arm had just begun to heal, and the palace was still quiet. No one knew yet that Ruth had left the northern palace. Everyone had kept silent, and the incident had been brushed under the rug. And he… was slowly withering away.

The injury to his arm had been disguised as a serious illness, and he had locked himself away in the northern palace for a week, only to return to his daily routine. He immediately sent knights from his maternal family to track Ruth and the others, but they were nowhere to be found. He didn’t even know where they had disappeared to. He sent people to Vera to search for them, but they weren’t there either. They hadn’t returned to that place.

It was maddening. Over the past three weeks, he had managed to hold on somehow. Or perhaps he was already mad. Unable to use the palace knights or the city’s soldiers, he had secretly hired mercenaries and trackers to find them, but not even a single trace remained.

Where could they have gone? Where had they disappeared to, leaving no trace behind? He was consumed by an unbearable longing and hatred. He begged, wishing to see their faces again, but at the same time, the bitter thought of killing them if they were caught again crossed his mind countless times.

Though his physical wounds would heal quickly, the deep scars etched into his heart showed no signs of fading. The memory of Ruth swinging his sword at him in the final moments was still vividly imprinted in his mind, causing unbearable pain. Only then did he fully realize that Ruth had abandoned him. He had let go of his hand and pushed him away, flying off, never to return. Ruth had known that once he raised his sword against him, he would never enter the palace alive again.

It was something he had done with full knowledge of the consequences. That was his declaration of resolve—not to return to this place until he was dead.

From this, Ail knew how resolute Ruth’s decision had been. He also realized, for the first time, that no matter what, he would never be able to catch him. But even so, he had to find him. If they met again, Ruth would either kill him or take his own life, and Ail feared that possibility. Yet, he still needed to find him. If he didn’t, this wild and uncontrollable emotion would poison him, and he would die first.

The small butterfly in his hand crumbled and flew away with the wind. It vanished, leaving no trace behind, disappearing far away.

No matter how many times he regretted it, wishing things hadn’t turned out this way, it was too late. What could he do to find him again? And how could he make Ruth change his mind?^[1]T/L notes: Serves you right, fixed your red flag attitude first before chasing after him again. But really, you are so pitiful hahahahaha

A groan of pain escaped his lips. Ruth had perfectly evaded his pursuit. By now, he might have settled somewhere in a distant land, living the life he had always wanted—with the person he loved, in the hometown he longed for. Just imagining that made Ail’s heart tighten. Seeing Ruth happy without him—no, seeing him happy because he wasn’t there—made Ail both resent and miss him.

He had never felt this way before. He hadn’t known what it meant to long for someone, to desire, wait for, and resent someone, feeling like he would go mad with longing. He hadn’t known the limits of pain that a person could endure, the despair, hesitation, and torment that came with that pain. Imagining someone was like dying of pain, and yet, it was an emotional contradiction: the longing, the fear of what kind of eyes Ruth might look at him with, and the terror of it all. Yet, he couldn’t let go.

When had he become so weak? When had he started to be swayed by emotions, becoming someone so emotional that he would risk everything on them?

This wasn’t what he had wanted. If he could, he would want to cut out all these emotions, burn them away cleanly. But this wasn’t something he could control. Honestly, over the past three weeks, he had countless times thought of ending it all. If Ruth never returned, he would just end everything—erase all thoughts and attachments to him, end all the confusion and pain.

But it wouldn’t break. No matter how hard he tried, this relentless feeling wouldn’t disappear.

He tried to harden his heart. He decided to end it all, thinking that there would be no more unhealed wounds and that all pain would eventually become familiar.

But it didn’t work. It was as if he had fallen into schizophrenia; he was slowly going mad.

Even when he slept, his face would appear, the one from that day, leaving him filled with resentment, waking him up. Sometimes, he would grit his teeth and shout that he would kill him if he ever caught him, making the room into chaos. Other times, he would pray desperately, begging him to just stay alive. And sometimes, overcome by longing, he would lock himself in his room and draw him. He would shout that he would kill him, then collapse from exhaustion and search for him again, grinding his teeth, swearing he would forget about such a person, only to end up following the traces of his presence.

It was schizophrenia. The obsessive madness of a crazy man. The insanity of a man who had been hurt.

He was mad. He was exhausted from the emotional ups and downs he faced dozens of times a day.

Every day, he killed him and resurrected him hundreds of times. And each time, he himself died and came back to life.

What terrified him more than Ruth’s face when they met again was his own mental state. He feared that he might truly kill him if they met. Self-control had long since vanished. He was a madman now. Struggling in despair, he was plunging into an abyss.

Where had he disappeared to? Was he even alive? If he was dead, why hadn’t a body been found?

Was he happy now? Was he smiling? As he was going mad, was Ruth happy? Was it true that the two of them could never coexist?

He wanted to meet him. He wanted to see him so badly he might go crazy.

Where had he disappeared to?

—

“Foolish idiots.”

Inside the carriage entering the capital of Clozium, Rosen muttered again, casting a glare at Rodin who was sitting in front of her. At her venomous expression, both Elsen and Rodin, sitting opposite her, lowered their heads simultaneously. A few days ago, when they were told that a merchant had seen Kasha inside Clozium, Rosen had called Elsen and Rodin, repeatedly muttering those words. Just the fact that the merchant had seen Kasha was terrifying, but when they heard that the next day, the room they had been in had been trashed, and long brown hair had been found along with blood in the room, Rosen’s face turned devilish. As her gaze grew more intense, Rodin felt like he was being tortured during the entire journey to Clozium.

“We tried to stop him, really.”

“Then why couldn’t you? You should have stopped him even if you had to die!”

“Would he have listened if I had told him? I thought I had permission from you, Aunt.”

“Do you think I would let my son go to die? Foolish children. You two let Kasha go without even a second thought? If anything happens to my son, you both will be buried with him.”

Rosen, who had tied her long black hair up, was a woman well beyond fifty, yet still full of vitality and strength. After passing the Le Bleume household to Kasha and retiring, her influence remained significant. And her fiery temper was still intact.

“But I knew he’d come back! And when there was no news from Karileum, I thought he had given up.”

“Have you ever seen that boy give up once he sets his mind to something? He’s the type to go through with it! How could you send him alone without even consulting me? What were you thinking? I told you not to let him out of Vera, and yet you sent him away without asking me? Useless fools.”

Rosen was someone who would bury Elsen and Rodin without hesitation if anything happened to Kasha. Under her constant scolding, Rodin desperately tried to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“But we should find those two first. How should we track them down?”

At that moment, Rodin regretted asking the question. Rosen’s eyes grew a hundred times sharper.

“Are you asking me that?”

“No… I was just saying. Of course, we should go to the Yorkhen region. Do you think I’m a fool?”

Rodin answered confidently, mentioning the exact region where the merchant had seen Kasha. Rosen clicked her tongue as if disappointed.

“You are a fool. Go to Rengetti.”

“Why?”

“Do you think Kasha is as foolish as you? Would he stay there for several days?”

“But that place…”

“If he was going to die, he would have gone there. It’s faster for us to go first and keep watch.”

“But…”

Rodin hesitated, still clinging to the faint hope that there might be something else. At his hesitation, Rosen shot him a sharp look once more.

“After living with him for so long, you still don’t understand him? If he said he wanted to die, he would have gone there to do it. Damn kid, who gave him the right to die? Who gave birth to him?”

As Rosen muttered this, her face twisted in frustration, she turned her head toward the window. Only then did Elsen raise his gaze and look at her, cautiously asking:

“What exactly is going on? Why is it that if Kasha leaves Vera, he dies?”

“…”

“I need to understand the situation if I’m going to deduce where we should look and what to do. What is going on?”

Rosen, as if unwilling to speak, tightly shut her mouth. However, her attitude, as though there was nothing to say, prompted Rodin to speak up carefully.

“Kasha has been living with someone for the past year. The person is the son of the lord of the place we’re headed to… After living together for a year, Kasha abandoned him when he suggested they run away together. He even issued a ban on entering Vera. Now, he’s full of rage, and if he steps outside of Vera, he’ll try to kill him. If he catches him, he’ll tear him apart. He was a good kid, though.”

Rodin’s words made Elsen look surprised. Kasha was someone who clearly distinguished between friend and foe. He often made enemies, so it wasn’t strange for someone to want him dead, but the fact that it was due to a love affair was unexpected. Kasha was the type of person who would never abandon someone he had taken in. Whether fighting or saving, he would never discard them. For him to abandon someone meant there had to be something extraordinary about that person. Elsen’s mind was filled with this question.

“…Why did he abandon him?”

“I don’t know. He won’t say why, and that only makes things worse. The person came crying and begging, trying to explain the situation, but Kasha coldly kicked him out. He says he’s tired of him, but I don’t think that’s the real reason. Kasha’s not the type to throw someone away after shedding tears for them, and he wouldn’t treat someone like that, especially not someone he cared for. It’s really strange.”

After hearing Rodin’s whispered explanation, Elsen felt that something was really off. Kasha wasn’t someone who would drag things on without explaining the reason, so to just say he was tired of him without offering any details didn’t make sense. What could be the reason? And why was he now heading toward the person he abandoned, asking for him to kill him?

Looking briefly at Rosen, who was still staring out the window with her mouth shut, Elsen thought she might know something. That’s why she kept quiet and was heading to search for him. What could that be?

“I’ve already sent a letter to Leysha. The reply should come from Homan in the Rengetti region. Let’s visit there first.”

Finally, Rosen spoke, then fell silent again. It had already been four weeks since Kasha left Vera, and there had been no reaction from Karileum. In order to get news of Ruth, Rosen had first sent a letter to Leysha. With the brown hair stained with blood left in Kasha’s room, and the fact that Kasha had a companion, it seemed likely that Ruth had left the palace, but Karileum was strangely silent. Rosen was on edge, carefully preparing and waiting for news, since understanding Ruth’s whereabouts was essential for taking further action.

—

With a swift swing of his sword, Ruth severed the final opponent’s life. Panting, he sheathed his sword. The mercenaries hired with money who had entered Clozium alongside him did the same. As the silence returned to the dense forest, Kasha, who had been sitting in the carriage, clapped his hands and opened the door.

“Let’s go. Ruth, ride.”

Dressed in elegant attire and with his long hair flowing down, Kasha exuded an aristocratic atmosphere. His alluring yet refined appearance made a young mercenary blush as he climbed onto his horse. Seeing the boy, Ruth casually brushed his short brown hair and climbed into the carriage.

“That kid would die for you.”

“Well, men are all like that.”

Kasha, with a soft tone, shrugged off the comment. Meanwhile, the carriage began to move again. They should have arrived at their destination by now, but various events had delayed their journey considerably.