Episode 32
“This damn… You think I…!”
Dolce was still the same.
It was no surprise that he wasn’t remorseful. In fact, he felt unjustly treated.
He had grown up as the second prince of Heilan, doted upon and revered. He couldn’t understand why he, who had lived a life of comfort and privilege in the peaceful royal palace, had to suffer such humiliation.
It was all because of…
“Chelon, that lowly wretch… If only she hadn’t lost to Ravanta…!”
Yes, it was all Chelon’s fault.
If she hadn’t been defeated by Ravanta, Heilan would be ruling over them. If that were the case, he wouldn’t be in this predicament for merely laying a hand on a little princess.
“Your Highness.”
Ricardo awaited Elonia’s command.
The moment she gave the order, he was ready to draw his sword and silence Dolce permanently.
However, Elonia shook her head.
There was something she needed to ask.
“Dolce, have you not felt even a shred of guilt towards Princess Chelon?”
One might expect Dolce to be surprised by Chelon’s name coming from Elonia’s lips, but he was no longer in his right mind. He let out a delirious chuckle, his voice raspy.
“…Guilt? Towards that wretch?”
“Yes.”
“Why would I feel guilty towards someone rotting in hell?”
Why would I, he asked.
Elonia couldn’t help but laugh.
He truly felt no remorse for his actions.
His words sealed his fate.
There was nothing more to hear, and this time, no one would stop her.
‘I don’t want to be chained to Heilan any longer.’
Until recently, Ravanta and Heilan had been the same to Elonia.
But Artius, albeit belatedly, had apologized to her.
‘Unlike anyone from Heilan, he apologized to me.’
That alone made Elonia feel like she had a choice for the first time in her life.
She had initially ended up in Ravanta after a desperate escape.
But now, this place, this Empire, wanted her to stay. They were waiting for her to choose them.
For the first time, she felt like she had found a home.
Elonia was no longer a powerless pawn, forced to obey orders. She was finally capable of making her own choices.
“Rica, heal him,” Elonia ordered.
“…What?”
Ricardo thought he had misheard.
Heal him? Not kill him?
Elonia chided her slow-witted disciple and held out her hand.
“I said, heal him. Give me your dagger.”
He hadn’t misheard after all.
Urged on by her insistent tone, Ricardo reluctantly handed her the dagger and began healing Dolce.
He knew exactly how this man had treated Chelon in the past, and the thought of healing him made him sick to his stomach. But Elonia’s wish was his command.
Dolce, confused but hopeful as he felt the searing pain subside, clung to a glimmer of hope.
‘Could it be that the princess has taken a liking to me?’
Although his body was healing, the effects of the truth serum lingered, clouding his judgment.
He chuckled, a lecherous glint in his eyes.
‘The gods are truly on my side…!’
He imagined the faces of those he would crush first.
‘Just you wait. Once I marry the princess, I’ll kill them all – the Emperor who made me suffer, that arrogant brat of his, and Felix too. And that gloomy bastard he cherishes so much…!’
Dolce reveled in his fantasies of revenge.
His happy thoughts were short-lived.
Elonia, her small foot enveloped in mana, stomped on his head.
“Gah…!”
His freshly healed body betrayed him once again as he coughed up blood.
Why?
Wasn’t the princess trying to save him?
No, he had been wondering about this for a while now.
Why did every blow from this little girl feel like his bones were shattering?
A flicker of fear shot through him, but the pain that lingered in his bones was far more pressing.
Just as he thought his skull would crack, the pressure on his head lifted. But before he could even register relief, Elonia began kicking him mercilessly.
“Ugh, gah…! Stop…!”
Each kick stole the air from his lungs.
Her attacks grew increasingly brutal, mirroring the countless wounds he had inflicted upon her in her past life.
“P-please… Stop, I beg you…!”
He couldn’t comprehend how a mere girl’s kicks could be more painful than the beatings he had received from seasoned knights. He looked up at Elonia, his vision blurry with pain.
But even through his fading vision, he could clearly see her chilling purple eyes.
Terror gripped his heart.
It was pure killing intent reflected in those innocent eyes.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
For the first time in his life, Dolce tasted true fear, the kind that broke you down and left you begging for mercy.
As his eyes filled with terror, then despair, Elonia felt strangely invigorated.
Elonia, or rather, Chelon, had always wanted to kill him, even as she trembled in fear.
And it wasn’t just Dolce.
Vermon, Felix, all those who looked down upon her in Heilan – she wanted to kill them all.
She wanted to erase everything and everyone who had made her life a living hell.
She didn’t care about appearances or consequences. If she could just kill them all and be free, she would.
But then, when Vermon died right before her eyes, she found herself prioritizing her siblings’ safety, sparing Felix in the process.
‘I brainwashed myself into believing I was Elonia, that Chelon was dead. But the truth is, I was still Chelon all along.’
A scared, selfish girl who had waded through countless pools of blood just to survive.
Elonia decided to stop denying her past self.
She hadn’t given up on being Elonia.
The voice in her dreams had told her that she was the most important thing.
It hadn’t differentiated between Elonia and Chelon. It had simply referred to her as “you.”
She still didn’t know if it was her subconscious or something external entirely.
Either way, being outdone by Artius was a blow to her pride.
‘If Artius can get his act together, I can’t just sit here and twiddle my thumbs.’
As his self-proclaimed nemesis, she couldn’t bear the thought of him growing stronger than her.
‘Artius should stay the foolish loser who always trails behind me.’
If he took one step forward, she would take two. No, she would leave him in the dust.
And to do that, she needed to break free from the shackles that bound her, the shackles that had kept her a slave for far too long.
After all, you couldn’t run while dragging chains behind you.
Elonia finally stopped kicking him, gasping for breath.
“Ha… Ha…”
“Ugh… P-please… Mercy…”
Dolce lay whimpering on the ground, clinging to life.
Truth be told, Elonia wanted to hurt him more.
She wanted to inflict tenfold the pain she had endured, but her stamina and Dolce’s condition wouldn’t allow it.
It was time to end this.
Elonia toyed with the dagger she had taken from Ricardo.
The blade was so sharp that the slightest graze would draw blood.
‘It’s been a while since I killed someone with a sword.’
She had never liked swords.
The feeling of taking a life with a blade was far too visceral, too real compared to magic.
But perhaps that was why she needed to use it now.
Elonia raised the dagger high in the air.
Even in his delirious state, Dolce caught a glimpse of the gleaming blade and struggled to escape.
“W-wait… Please, wait…! I beg—”
“Dolce.”
Elonia cut him off, her voice cold as ice.
She smiled coldly, delivering his final judgment.
“You can rot in hell for all I care.”
Thud!
Before he could even plead for his life, Elonia plunged the dagger into his throat.
A few agonizing seconds ticked by.
Then, with a final shudder, Dolce went still.
His death was pathetic, unbefitting of a prince, even one from a fallen kingdom.
Elonia pulled out the dagger, watching as blood spurted from the wound.
Splat.
Blood splattered on her face.
It was a familiar sensation, one she had experienced countless times as Chelon.
“…”
She didn’t bother wiping the blood away. She simply stood there, letting the reality of his death sink in.
She had never dared to dream of a day when she could take revenge on Dolce.
And yet, here she was.
For the first time in her life, Elonia had killed someone from Heilan with her own hands.
By her own will.
Her hands trembled.
In that moment, Elonia felt an overwhelming sense of liberation, a release from the shackles that had bound her for 24 long years.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
‘So much for revenge being meaningless…!’
Vermon and Dolce were dead, and Felix had retreated with his tail between his legs.
She had heard countless times that revenge only begets more suffering, that it wouldn’t bring her closure.
But if revenge was truly meaningless, then how could she explain this feeling of exhilaration that coursed through her veins?
“Rica,” Elonia called out, her voice trembling.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I’m done with Heilan.”
“As you wish.”
“So even if I killed him, I don’t regret it. …I can at least tell my siblings that I killed him, even if I can’t be proud of it.”
“I will follow you wherever you may lead, Your Highness.”
Ricardo knelt before her.
“You, my master, will never be alone again. You have found people who cherish you here in Ravanta.”
Truth be told, Ricardo had never trusted Ravanta.
But after becoming Elonia’s knight, after witnessing her laugh and play pranks with those around her, he had changed his mind.
This was the place where his one and only savior could finally find happiness.
Elonia confessed something she had never told anyone before.
“Before I died, I wished that Artius was my real father.”
Her words were so unexpected that Ricardo’s eyes widened in shock.
It was true.
Elonia herself couldn’t believe that she would ever wish for such a thing.
And she never imagined that she would feel despair even after her wish had been granted.
It was as if the gods were against her happiness, granting her everything but what she truly desired.
It was humiliating, as if they had reincarnated her just to teach her a lesson for her audacity.
But Artius was trying to atone for his sins. He was trying to make things right.
The shackles were broken.
It was time for her to step out of his shadow and leave him in the dust.
Elonia, her youthful face stained with blood, grinned.
“This time, I will be happy.”
“As you should be, Your Highness.”
As she should be.
The path to happiness had always been closed off to Elonia.
But now, it was finally within reach.
Elonia blinked back tears.
She couldn’t cry now. Not when she was finally free.