Chapter 2
“You’re awfully impatient.”
Deminic’s indifferent tone should have been enough to send chills down anyone’s spine. Instead, Bellona felt a wave of melancholy wash over her.
If things were really as simple as he made them sound, she wouldn’t be standing here in the first place.
“That isn’t important. What matters is that I know you’re a member of the imperial family.”
The moment she bluntly revealed the truth, Deminic froze.
His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, he wore an expression so unexpectedly innocent that it caught her off guard.
Watching him react that way, Bellona found herself thinking that helping him might be more entertaining than she’d expected.
“…What’s your evidence?”
The brief flicker of surprise disappeared almost instantly, leaving behind his usual expressionless face.
Bellona absentmindedly played with the necklace in her hand while wondering just how much she should tell him.
This whole thing had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, and she hadn’t exactly come prepared with a detailed plan.
For a moment, a rather outrageous idea crossed her mind.
Should I just tell him I’m a regressor?
Well…
Twisting the truth just a little wouldn’t hurt.
“I’ve seen the future.”
She leaned closer and whispered the words as though she were sharing a profound secret.
Deminic looked utterly dumbfounded.
“So you’re claiming to be a prophet? Perhaps I should announce the arrival of a saintess immediately.”
“I’m not the saintess.”
The answer slipped out before she could stop herself.
Saintess.
Messenger of God.
Divine representative.
The chosen one.
All those countless titles were never meant for Bellona.
They belonged to her closest friend, Davien.
“What exactly do you mean by that…?”
“That’s not important right now. What’s important is that you came here intending to burn this entire temple to the ground, and I came here to stop you.”
Bellona raised a hand, silencing his attempt to interrupt.
“Deminic, you have a ring with a brilliant blue sapphire. It belonged to your mother.”
The moment she mentioned his mother, she saw his shoulders tense.
“The inside of the ring is engraved with the words, ‘For my most respected and beloved Maribel.'”
Anyone listening would immediately understand one thing.
There was no way Bellona could know that without having seen the ring herself.
And Deminic realized it, too.
The uncertainty in his eyes became impossible to miss.
“Maribel, the owner of that sapphire ring, was the first Empress of the Empire. And the last person to inherit that ring was your biological mother—Princess Olivia, the Duchess of Roxellern.”
Deminic frowned.
“Ridiculous. My mother was a commoner.”
Bellona simply shrugged.
He could deny it all he wanted, but she could already tell he was listening.
She’d already pointed him in the right direction.
It would only be a matter of time before he discovered the truth for himself.
“Take that ring to the Emperor. Reclaim your rightful place as the sole heir of House Roxellern.”
“If I’m truly the Emperor’s nephew, then why have I spent all this time…”
Instead of joy, his eyes filled with layer upon layer of anger.
And honestly, it was understandable.
The Emperor’s affection for his younger sister, Princess Olivia, was widely known.
If that were true, then why hadn’t the Emperor done more to find him?
That question alone was enough to ignite resentment.
And that resentment would inevitably turn into hatred.
Perhaps the Emperor had known all along.
Perhaps he had recognized the threat Princess Olivia posed and deliberately looked the other way.
The more he thought about it, the darker his expression became.
“And your real enemy isn’t the High Priest.”
Bellona decided to redirect his anger.
“Your real enemies are the people behind him. The Empress and the faction supporting the Crown Prince—the same people who tried to assassinate the Duke and Duchess and then tried to kill you as well.”
At the very least, his hatred toward the Empress was justified.
And Bellona intended to use that.
“…The Empress?”
“Yes. The Empress. The woman who saw Princess Olivia as her greatest threat and feared the child she would eventually give birth to.”
Back when Deminic still lived in the temple, the High Priest had immediately recognized the significance of the ring the moment he examined it.
He realized that Deminic was both the missing heir of House Roxellern and a member of the imperial family with a legitimate claim to the throne.
And he reported everything directly to the Empress.
The very same Empress who had orchestrated the murder of the Duke and Duchess to eliminate anything that might threaten her son—the Crown Prince.
The High Priest had later attempted to eliminate Deminic under the Empress’s orders.
The attempt failed when Deminic escaped.
But after he disappeared, the High Priest simply reported him as dead.
Thinking about the tangled mess of past events gave Bellona a headache.
A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her.
With a sigh, she decided to skip ahead to the real issue.
“More importantly, stop using dark magic. It’s a one-way ticket to disaster.”
She tossed the necklace she’d been holding toward him.
Deminic instinctively reached out and caught it.
The moment it touched his hand, the transparent gem instantly lost its clarity and turned a murky gray.
“What is this…?”
“Dark magic may give you incredible power right now, but eventually, it’ll drive you insane. Power never comes without a price.”
She cut him off before he could continue.
“So stop using dark magic recklessly just because you’re blinded by revenge. Use that necklace to keep track of your condition.”
Among all the holy artifacts stored in the temple, it was the only one that could actually help him.
Naturally, Deminic had never bothered with holy relics.
He and holy objects were fundamentally incompatible.
But this necklace wasn’t meant to purify evil.
It merely revealed how deeply a soul had been corrupted by dark power.
Unexpectedly, Deminic remained silent.
He stared at the necklace for a long moment before slowly lifting his head to look at her.
The corner of his mouth curved upward into a crooked smile.
Yet for some reason, Bellona thought she saw something else hidden behind his suspicious gaze.
A tiny spark of hope.
“What if I don’t care what happens to me? What if I just want to kill every last noble and be done with it?”
Even then, his words remained as cynical as ever.
“If you keep going, that power will eventually consume you, too. All that’ll be left is a madman driven by bloodlust, slaughtering people without mercy because dark magic keeps demanding more.”
“I have complete control over my power.”
He opened and closed his fist while staring at the gray necklace.
But despite his confident words, a faint trace of uncertainty still lingered on his face.
“That’s what you’d like to believe.”
Bellona let out a short laugh.
Deminic was unbelievably arrogant.
He always believed there was something inherently different about him.
And more often than not, that arrogance was what led him to defeat.
“You’re too proud to admit it, aren’t you? Are you absolutely certain? Are you sure you’re controlling dark magic—and not the other way around?”
He turned the necklace over in his hand, examining it from several different angles.
Eventually, he wrapped his fingers tightly around it and raised his head with a look of determination.
“Fine. For now, I won’t kill you.”
“How generous of you.”
Honestly, the fact that he wasn’t trying to kill her anymore meant today had gone surprisingly well.
Bellona sighed and lightly patted his chest as a gesture of encouragement while walking past him.
It was about time she returned to the Count’s estate.
“First, reclaim your position as the Duke of Roxellern’s rightful heir. And if you need help or have questions along the way, contact me. I’ll help as much as I can.”
Just then, a hand gently caught her arm as she tried to walk past him.
The fingers brushing against her wrist were surprisingly cold.
The countless memories of opposing him in previous lives made her instinctively flinch.
She looked up.
And then she froze again.
His face was much closer than she’d expected.
They were standing so close that if she exhaled, their breaths would mingle.
“You’re just going to say whatever you want and then leave?”
“Then what else do you want me to tell you?”
“Your name. What’s your name?”
Because she knew Deminic so well, Bellona hadn’t even realized they had never properly introduced themselves.
Looking down at the hand still loosely wrapped around her wrist, she answered casually.
“Oh. My name is Bellona Rosentine. I’m the daughter of Count Rosentine. I completely forgot to mention that.”
“So a noble lady from an ordinary count’s family possesses the ability to see the future? How is that possible? You don’t seem to use dark magic.”
His long fingers rested lightly against the inside of her wrist, as if he were checking her pulse.
He was trying to determine whether she was like him.
After all, those who surrendered their souls to dark magic no longer had beating hearts.
“I never said I was a prophet. I said I’ve seen the future.”
Bellona smiled teasingly and gave him a deliberately vague answer.
Deminic had already put his familiar mask back on.
That cold, unreadable expression she knew so well.
The mask that made it impossible to predict his next move.
“It seems I’ve already obtained all the information I need from you. Which means I might as well kill you right here.”
“You literally just said you wouldn’t kill me.”
“I’m naturally fickle.”
She had only just finished telling him to stop using dark magic, yet she could already see blackness creeping across his fingertips.
“What’s your objective? Everything you’ve told me has benefited me. Bellona, you haven’t asked for anything in return. Everyone has a motive.”
Hearing her name roll so naturally off his tongue felt strangely unfamiliar.
His crimson eyes burned with an unsettling intensity.
He was standing far too close.
Even so, Bellona refused to back down.
“Work with me, Deminic. If you cooperate with me, I’ll cooperate with you.”
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, she placed a hand against his chest and tried to push him away.
He didn’t move an inch.
The warmth of his breath brushing against her forehead only made her more aware of how close he was.
“Why?”
