Melodia woke up quietly. She slowly opened her eyes, while remaining completely still. The first thing she did after mentally shaking away her grogginess, was to look around the room. She did not allow her head to move, only her eyes, which scanned her surroundings.

It was a completely plain room–a room that had become sickeningly familiar.

There was a bed, a nightstand, and an open wardrobe filled with pure-white, unremarkable dresses, none of them chosen by her.

Looking at the dresses in the wardrobe, each had a slightly different design, but in the end, they were so similar in color and look that one could easily mistake them for being bland copies. However, Melodia had not become so dull as to stupidly mistake anything. Not in front of him. And she would never mention that she found those dresses so bland.

"Modesty is the virtue of a good wife." He would say.

There was a window in the corner of the room, and an unimportant, but luxurious painting that hung on the wall next to the door, again, not chosen by her.

That was the entirety of the decoration.

For such a large space, almost all of it went unused. And it would remain that way.

Most importantly, after finishing her assessment of the room, she found that he was not there. That allowed her to breathe a little easier.

'Thank Od…'

The worst mornings were those when she found him silently standing in a corner of the room, just watching her. The idea that she would even have mornings like those were frightening enough.

That alone didn't mean that she would have an easy morning from now on or anything. It just meant that she would have a calmer start to the day. She wasn't greedy for more than that.

Melodia slid out of the bed, taking her time to gently stretch and awaken in the slowly lightening darkness. Her eyes, still dull, now from everything but sleep, stared out of the single window in her room. The sun was just beginning to shine through.
It was just before the beginning of Wind Time. In other words, the prelude to dawn. She was required to get up this early as a part of her morning duties as his wife. Anything later was unacceptable.

Another virtue of a good wife was to be up early, much earlier before anyone else possibly could be, to look after the house.

'Was it this one? …What's even the point in having so much of these at hand if he's just going to tell me which one to wear, regardless?'

Melodia grabbed some fresh clothing - the particular dress that her husband had so kindly suggested that she wear – and went to take a bath. His suggestions were always anything but. It was more correct to interpret them as orders.

With a sigh, she neatly folded the dress over her arm, heading outside of her room. The hallway was empty–yet another relief for the morning.

'The more time I spend without seeing him for the day, the better. …At least I can try to prepare myself.'

It was only her footsteps that could be heard in the empty hall–not that it was an indication of anything important. His feet did not make any sound while he walked. She hadn't even seen his shoes leave prints in the earth, unless he wanted them to.

She shuddered. Just the thought of him was enough to unsettle her very being. Whatever he wielded was entirely separate from the world itself.

Of course, even as an uneducated commoner, she had heard of extremely capable beings, like the line of Sword Saints of Lugunica, and the Divine Generals of the Vollachian Empire. Still, he was something different altogether.

He referred to himself as an 'Archbishop' now. Melodia had no idea what that word truly meant, but she had seen the power that new title granted him with her eyes, firsthand–

'Oh…'

Her thoughts stopped in place once she realized that she had been shaking. She shook her head, forcing herself to calm. However, try as she might, she couldn't stop her body from trembling.

'That's–that's fine.'

Even if she wasn't calm, she had to look calm. If he happened upon her while she was falling apart like this…

'I don't know. I don't even know what he would do. Whatever limits he had before–they don't exist now.'

Even more than the country that he destroyed, that image of him holding the bloodied piece of wood in his hand came to her mind. The body of his mother that he had left behind, the horrific sin that he had committed even before gaining that terrible power.

Regulus had already chosen to leave behind humanity the night he did something so foul.

Before she realized it, she was in the bath room. She made sure to close and lock the door behind her, a rare privacy allowed to her. Not that barriers meant much to him if he truly meant to get past them, but, oddly enough, he never intruded on her baths.

He didn't lust after her body at all. For as long as they had been together, even him laying a hand on her shoulder was rare. They didn't even sleep in the same room.

'Not that I would want to share a bed with that thing.'

A restful sleep was already something far out of her grasp. Trying to sleep beside him would certainly just lead to many more restless nights.

She set down her clothing in a basket outside the door that led to the bath area and walked in, a towel wrapped around her body.

The bath area, just like her bedroom, was plain, but spacious and luxurious. The bath itself was extremely large–perhaps large enough to fit a whole group of people at once.

The water, already heated and prepared from last night was heavenly as she sank in.

She closed her eyes, only finally able to relax now. No, 'relax' was the wrong word. It was better to say that now, she had space to breathe.

This place was the only place in the entirety of this large mansion that she could truly rest easy in, assured that he would never enter.

Of course, the bath itself was a novelty, too. She had never had a large bath room before, back when she lived in that small village. Even the better-off commoners that lived in large towns had to use bathhouses. Melodia understood now why nobles were so grateful for having personal baths. They were hot, comfortable, and private.

None of those things were why she relied so much on the bath. She wouldn't have cared if this area was a wooden outhouse, as long as she had a space away from him.

Melodia was sure that right now, she was the most grateful person in the entire world when it came to having a bath area.

"...I guess it's time to get out, huh?"

Just as quickly as she got in, the mere 15 minutes she allotted herself was already over. She sighed, and slowly raised from the water. Before getting out, she looked down at the water despondently.

"..."

She wanted to stay in this bath. Go to sleep in this bath…and if not–
She would even prefer to just fall under those waters, lose the breath in her lungs, and remain under that clear, calm surface.


Melodia now walked through the halls again, clad in today's white dress that Regulus had picked out for her. While it was bland, colorless, and only moderately stylish, it still looked good on Melodia, regardless.

'I suppose that's all he really keeps me around for now. My beauty.'

Even if her dazzling blue hair didn't have the same vibrant shimmer than it used to. Even if the beautiful silver that was her eyes now seemed more like a metallic gray. Melodia had still been the most beautiful girl in their village.

Regulus appreciated just having her around to look at.

To him, what mattered most when it came to women was superficial appearances.

Walking while holding her hand at its' wrist, she ignored those thoughts, just like she tried to ignore every other bit of misery that continued creeping into her mind.

'It's always like this…'

Depending on his action, she would begin the day either somewhat rattled, or fairly calm. She would attempt to keep that mood by distracting herself, thinking of anything else–but at a certain point, she would be unable to keep these thoughts out of her mind.

'Let's–let's think of the…good, things!'

She was still alive. And he still cared enough about her to continue keeping her alive. He had even given up searching for more wives, after thinking over the fact that he had her already.

'All of that is…good, right?'

Despite the desperation in her inner voice, those thoughts didn't bring her warmth. If anything, thinking about him just brought even more revulsion than thinking about everything else.

She paused for a moment, both in thought, and physically.

Her eyes were drawn towards something by her side–not that there was much to look at in the empty hallway she was travelling through.

It was a window. Ornate, but not too opulent.

Melodia walked closer towards the frame, stopping as she looked out at the now brightened land. The sun was slowly but surely rising above the horizon. It was finally a little past Wind Time.

She reached a hand out and slowly opened the shutters, revealing more of the frozen, snow-blanketed land outside.

Her eyes were first drawn to the height of the window–certainly, if she were to open this window and take a step outside–

'I would finally be able to-! To…'

She had to quickly retract her hand from reaching out towards the handles that kept the window's frames in place. She had not even had the awareness to know that she was reaching out towards it.

'...No.'

Melodia did not have what was needed to take that step yet.

Her gaze instead lifted to the land beyond the perimeter of the mansion.

–it was nothing but snow.

The world around them for hundreds, maybe thousands of miles extended first into nothing but barren, snow-covered land, and then even further into an endless sea of snowcapped, tall trees that had been left to repair themselves after being clearly broken.

It was hard to believe that, just a few years ago, her country had been here. The mansion that she was currently living in was the last bit of physical proof that it had even existed

Before, what had been an entire country located within the borders of the Holy Kingdom, had become nothing but a part of the wild, snow-covered wasteland, with naught remaining but this–a single mansion to mark it.

Her hand moved without willing it once more. This time, it pressed against her chest. Tightened, until she felt her fingernails digging into her skin.

The sight hammered in home the hopelessness of her situation. She thought she had accepted it, but this sight always awakened a newer sense of hopelessness in her than what she had been carrying before.

'Even if I wanted to run away, what could I do? I'd just freeze to death after running in some random direction. The people who stalk the frozen roads would probably think I'm some sort of noble and try to rob me. Considering that slavery is illegal here, I'd be killed or…worse. Perhaps he'd even kill me by his own hand, with a simple wave.'

These sorts of thoughts endlessly dragged through her mind, weighing down with every passing second.

"Hm? Appreciating the morning view, are you? I suppose that I can understand that. Even this snowy wasteland can be somewhat beautiful when the sun first rises, after all."

His voice appeared behind her. This time, it was not restrained to the confines of her mind.

"..."

When she turned around to face him, she was utterly composed. She met his eyes. Those golden eyes that pierced right through her, without any real care and concern–all of it superficial.

His mere presence weighed heavier on her than any earlier thoughts had. She already felt like she would sink through every floor of the mansion and find herself buried deep within the earth.

How could she not find herself fearful of him after seeing what he had done?

He did not wait for her to answer him. Instead, he began talking all on his own.

"Still, you're in the middle of your morning routine, aren't you? It's no good to get distracted by something, even if it's nature's beauty, while you're supposed to be hard at work. You haven't even had your breakfast yet, I'm assuming?"

"No, my husband."

His expression was odd–somewhere between pleasure at her deference and politeness, and displeasure towards what he considered lazy shirking of her duties. That contradictory gaze summed him up more than words ever could.

"Then, please get to it. The mansion still needs cleaning, and already I'm beginning to see traces of dust on some of the better-looking parts. More than anything–"

He finally stopped talking, looking at her expectantly. Melodia answered without a second's hesitation.

"It is a wife's duty to look after both her home and her husband."

Regulus first nodded. Then his hand was on her shoulder–each finger on Regulus' hand was cold and lifeless. It barely felt like anything was touching her.

"Good. Just like that. That is why you're such a wonderful wife. I knew you were always meant for me. Yes…that is why I had to make you mine."

Regulus seemed utterly ecstatic at her emotionless retort. The worst part was that there was no sarcasm in his voice. There never was sarcasm, or ignorance. He always understood and meant every single word of what he said.

Melodia only wished that she, and the many others in the village could have recognized the depth of that dark sincerity much, much earlier.

She had never thought of Regulus as a 'good' man. Certainly not 'nice'. However, in this hellish land of frost and snow, where daily, let alone yearly survival was no guarantee for people in small villages like hers, what did 'goodness' really matter?

Melodia had liked Regulus' assertiveness. He never backed down in his opinion or stances, no matter who he was speaking to. Some might have seen him as immature and childish–but Melodia thought that he had the potential to be strong. Stronger than anyone. In a way that only she could see.

She had been hopelessly blinded by her love for him, and by the belief that, when the day finally came when they expressed their feelings for one another, she could help him to change the negative parts of him into the strength she knew he had.

However, that never happened. Instead, he found that black book. And the revulsive, coiling thing that he allowed to slip into his soul.

Now he stood in front of her, allowing himself to change into something that she would never recognize as 'Regulus'. No appetite. No flowing of blood. No warmth. No need to breath. No heartbeat.

No humanity.

He no longer had a reason to change. After all, he was untouchable, unchanging, and perfectly powerful on his own.

There would no longer be anyone standing on equal footing with him. Now, she was just his object. A hollow shell of the former innocent girl that once held such precious feelings for him.

"Well then. Be on your way. I wouldn't want you to collapse of hunger or something similar, after all. Have a good morning."

Regulus took his hand off of Melodia's shoulder, giving her an ear-to-ear smile.

"And you as well, my husband."

With his permission granted, she headed on her way towards the lonely mansion's kitchen, her head lowered in deference, and her gait steady. She did her best to ignore his eyes remaining on her back, practically boring a hole through her with his gaze.

She felt like a simple display item in a showcase. One without much value to the one observing her.

He didn't even use her name anymore.


Melodia had stopped paying attention to what exactly she did when she reached the kitchen. Her hands moved to whip up something that she couldn't name. She was attentive enough to know that she was making a meal, but the act of preparing food didn't bring her joy anymore, so that in itself just became another waste.

It was ironic. In this mansion, she was guaranteed multiple hearty meals every single day. She had more food in these last few years than she had during her entire childhood and teen years.

Regulus didn't cook, but he did provide for her by having things brought to the house by men in black robes.

She didn't know who they were, but she didn't care. They weren't interested in her either, the same way Regulus wasn't. Nobody alive valued her as 'Melodia' anymore.

She was just the 'wife' of the Archbishop Regulus Corneas now. Nothing more, nothing less.

Without realizing it, her hands had kept moving and moving, and she had finished preparing her meal.

It was…food.

She didn't really care about what it was called anymore, as in the end, it was just sustenance to keep her living.

She sat down at the overly large dining table. Sometimes, Regulus would make his presence known and sit at the head of the table, just watching her eat. Today was, perhaps, a lucky day.

She was alone, left with her thoughts while she mechanically consumed what was left on her plate. Even though eating had lost so much meaning to her now, it only made her think about the times when it had actually meant something with more longing than ever.


"Ah, Melodia!"

The kind voice of Regulus' mother chimed through the small wooden house that barely seemed to remain standing. There were wrinkles on her face and slight bags under her eyes from pure exhaustion.

But her eyes would light up ever-so-slightly upon noticing that Melodia had brought something in her hands.

"Sharing some extra produce and fish with us again? Goodness gracious, you're such a kind child. I only wish that no-good Regulus could learn a bit more from you. All of those boys are just going to eat up that food, without even thanking you. Goodness gracious…"

Even while scolding someone else, she'd still show a kind smile, and, looking eagerly at the new ingredients, she'd add,

"You're eating with us tonight, right?"

It was never a true question, but more of a statement. Regulus' mother knew Melodia even better than her own mother ever did. Not that Melodia's mother ever made an effort.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure that I cook up something delicious for you. I'm sure Regulus would love to see you too–even if he won't say it. Goodness gracious, that boy–ah? You want to help me? Why not?"

She'd look earnestly surprised whenever Melodia offered to help her in the kitchen, or in the house, or in anything, really. That kind of surprise came from a strong woman so used to doing everything by herself that it had only become second nature.

The food they made together always tasted extra delicious. It was food that was made with the woman she wished to become her mother-in-law in the future. And food made together for the boy they had cared so much for.

Melodia aspired to be a strong woman like Regulus' mother.

Then she walked in that dreadful night and saw her body, and the blood, and the broken chair pieces, andandandandanad–


"Melodia!"

"How are you doing, future sister-in-law?"

The two twin brother's slightly mischievous, thug-like voices would chime in seemingly out of nowhere whenever they found you. They always tended to appear just like that.

Despite the aggressiveness in their manner, and their rough appearance, they weren't anything really threatening. If anything, they were the most diligent in the family, tied maybe with their mother.

"We're going to skimp out on our pay for a bit to make sure Regulus gets some extra bread."

"Don't tell him, eh? Or maybe we'll go ahead and tell him some of the proposal dreams you've been having…"

They were incredibly kind. Selfless. It was true that sometimes they had to beg, but those times usually only came about because they gave everything they had back to their family without thinking.

If someone else was going without food, they would make themselves the ones to starve, instead. If the family needed extra money, they'd go and work in the mines for days, until they were barely breathing, cut and bruised all over.

They'd pass on food for days, until they looked like skinny, malnourished bags of bones, just to help the family skimp on by through the rougher months.

Melodia would be happy to be a part of a family in which she had siblings like those. She had always wanted brothers.

And then the village died. Holes perforated through everything. The land flattened. Buildings ripped apart. They all died.

Died. died

diediediediediedi–


"Hrk!"

Melodia had to struggle to keep her food down. It was a wonder that she struggled at all–in the past she used to believe that vomiting brought her a momentary relief, but that wasn't the case anymore.

She was already empty. So what was she even throwing up anymore? Finding out the answer to that question scared her to no end.

Regulus' family was more than likely a part of why she had liked Regulus himself so much. She felt happy when she got to cook for him and the others alongside his mother.

She respected his brothers, who were the kindest thugs she had ever seen.

Even his father, who everyone usually complained about, still worked whatever jobs he could get diligently, and brought gifts back for everyone–including her.

She loved all of them. She loved that family. Much more than she ever could have loved her own family. Much more than her own family loved her.

And then, all of that had been ripped away by a few swipes of Regulus' hand, and a few nonchalant kicks in the dirt that rained hell upon everything she'd known.

The future that she had been dreaming of was erased. The man she had loved was permanently transfigured. Everything was gone.

"Od…"

Melodia lowered her eyes to her empty plate. Her throat was burning, and so were the edges of her eyes, as tears collected and fell down relentlessly, splashing against the table. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible even in the completely quiet building.

She didn't really care if he saw her hunched over like this, crying anymore. She wondered if she really even cared about anything anymore.

"...why am I even still alive?"

She sat there like that for a long time, just holding her head in her hands. It finally felt like she was lost; too lost to ever return.

Without thinking, Melodia got to her feet. She left the utensils she had been eating with in the plate. Even the plate was just left behind to sit there on the table. Those actions were both something unthinkable. She knew that sort of thing would incur his wrath.

But that didn't matter. Her feet were already taking her somewhere–to where she felt she really needed to be right now. There was a desperation coursing through her veins that made her every move feel as if they were fueled by a sort of madness.

In no time, Melodia found herself standing at the threshold of the front door to the mansion. Just staring at the door, she felt sweat collecting on her forehead.

This was the limit of her free area. Beyond the door was somewhere she could not go without her husband's express permission, or without him accompanying her at all times.

But, today, Melodia had reached her limit. Self-preservation had taken her along for so long. She wasn't sure if it had been years or months by now, but she'd held on for such a long time.

"Just one more time."

On what she had just decided would be her final day, she at least wanted to enjoy being able to walk outside. She was sure it'd be frigid, cold, icy, but she would at least feel something other than the numbness that threatened to swallow her entirely.

She placed her hand on the knob, ready to step outside–

"Now, listen here, just what are you doing? Weren't you supposed to be busy making and eating breakfast for yourself? And then getting on to your routine of cleaning around the house? Just why do you look like you're getting ready to step outside?"

His voice stopped her in her tracks. Instinctively. She could not take another step forward, even if she so desperately wished to. How could she?

Even with all the despair wracking her body, she still wanted to live. She wanted to dream. She wanted to be able to live a happy life.

But she couldn't. Not while she was still his wife. In a way, maybe this was for the best. Meeting him here, instead of having to wait for him to find her outside, would stop her from putting off what she needed to do.

She just wished she could've felt the cool air on her body one more time.

"Now look here–I'm usually not one to interrupt your moments of deep thought. I understand that you're rather introspective. But when I'm talking-"

Slap!

"...what?"

Regulus stared at her with a bewildered look in his eyes.

Throwing all of her body weight behind one movement, Melodia had delivered as vicious a slap as she could to Regulus' cheek. All of her endless resentment, the lost love, the regret she felt for allowing any of this to occur–she released all of it at once.

"Ah…that feels so good. Honestly, I wish I had done something like that sooner~."

Melodia laid a hand over her chest, feeling something raise from her chest in that single moment.

"Listen here–" Regulus began to speak instantly, his voice already shaking with anger. He didn't actually maintain any sort of damage from her desperate slap, but the rising disbelief in his eyes was enough to show how he felt.

"No, you listen here! You are–you've become–something horrible! You've gone from just ranting about everything, to–to destroying everything that disagrees with you! You killed your own mother, just because she annoyed you. You evaporated your brothers and your father for–I don't even know why! Then you dragged everyone in the village–then the country into your sad little rampage!"

Maybe because he was still stuck in shock, he still allowed her to continue talking. He was stuck just looking at her, unable to muster up words.

"You've been a kid for so long, Regulus. And now, you're worse than ever. You can't even grow up anymore. All you do all day is walk around, flaunting yourself and watching me with eyes that scream that I'm nothing more than property to you! This–this–all of this is just for your sick self-satisfaction! And you don't admit that you're the cause of any of it!"

Her eyes filled with fire, Melodia stepped forward and pushed him now, her palm insistently pressing into his chest. Of course, Regulus didn't move, and Melodia didn't care anymore whether he did or didn't.

She just needed to release these words that had been sitting on her chest for so long.

"You don't treat me like a person, just a thing. You beg for respect, but if anyone goes 'too' far, you just decide that they're disrespecting you! You don't even use my name anymore…do you even remember who I am?!"
Regulus was left shaking by those words. However, he wasn't reeling from them due to some sort of newfound compassion.

No, his face was utterly twisted, distorting into the prime face of rage, itself. His hands, clenched into fists, still remained at his side. He didn't move his legs. And Melodia could tell he hadn't done anything else to attack her yet, after all, she was still alive.

"It's the courtesy…of a proper husband…to allow his wife some faults. Yes, no married couple is…perfect, even if they strive to be."

Regulus' words were strained and seething. His eyes were closed now–he couldn't bring himself to look at her while still continuing to control his rage.

"That's why, I'll understand this as a small, accidental outburst. On the basis that you admit your wrongdoing and sincerely apologi-"

"That's it."

Melodia interrupted unapologetically, pointing a finger at him.

"That's the part of you that I've come to hate the most." Melodia sighed, finding herself unable to even meet the gaze of the pathetic creature that now stood in front of her. "You're always desperate to evade any sort of responsibility. You won't even listen to anything I said, or try to take it in as criticism. You get angry, and then to try and look like you're still in the right, you just use your power over someone else to–!"

Her breath was interrupted. Finally unable to withstand it anymore, Regulus now held her by the throat. His grip was tight, enough for Melodia to begin struggling to breathe.

"K-Khh!"

"Now, listen here…I stood there and listened to so much of your muttering, that I should be given some sort of recompense for how much I had to suffer through! And you still insist on continuing with this–this–drivel?!"

His grip tightened even further. His eyes opened now, he stared back at her with such hatred that it made it seem like he had never loved her for a single day in his life.

Not a single day.

"I am the perfect man! I don't need anything less or anything more! Less of all, I don't need somebody telling me some perceived inane faults that they've made up in the moment, just to make themselves feel better! To begin with, you are mine! Why are you, my wife, defying me?!"

'Ahh…'

At that exact moment, a realization dawned on Melodia. A realization that finally put everything that had been swirling inside of her to rest.

All that time, back in the village, she had seen Regulus' eyes, the way he looked at her, and thought he was directing a loving gaze towards her. That he reciprocated the burdgeoning love she felt towards him.

It had never been love. It had been possession.

'I'll make you mine.', That was what Regulus had thought of her every time they spoke to each other. She had no idea of his exact thoughts, but she realized that it had to be something like that, after experiencing what she had.

Even now, this pretend play of 'husband and wife' was not based on any real love or compassion. Regulus had just kept her around because he was his most beautiful, prized possession.

There was never any lost love. It was just that Melodia had finally had the blindness of love removed from her eyes after seeing his monstrous actions.

"Excuse me? Are you listening? Just because I'm applying a little bit of pressure on your throat like this, you think you can just tone out–"

Melodia…smiled.

"Huh?"

Regulus' voice was filled with confusion, and then, his entire face changed.

'Thank goodness.' She thought, 'Now I really don't have a single reason to stay here anymore.'

Regulus stared at her with widened eyes, to the point that they almost seemed ready to bulge from his skull. That…was not the expression she was supposed to be showing him.
"No–no! This isn't right! There should be either fear there. Or respect. Or obedience. Or loyalty. Or love! Why…why are you smiling? Why looking at me with those eyes?! With that disgusting, irreverent, unneeded, impunitive pity?!"

His voice was wild now. Far from being controlled, he was well and truly rattled. More than any words she had said, her current expression was more than enough to utterly destroy the peace of mind Regulus had built up thus far.

He had killed every person in that village–he had completely and utterly torn every connection he had to that disgraceful past in pursuit of the perfection that had finally been rightfully bestowed upon him–

Except for her. In his mercy, he had left her alone. Because, from the beginning, he had intended on making her his. Yet, here she was, yelling at him like this, trying her damndest to hit him multiple times, and finally, giving him that repulsive gaze.

Worst of all–

"And why are you smiling?! Are you enjoying this? Goodness, I never had you figured to be such an improper, vulgar woman! You–"

"You–are probably going to be the loneliest person in this world, Regulus." Melodia giggled a little bit. Her voice just as sweet as ever, as she looked off to the side. "I feel sorry for you."

"-! You…you just laughed, didn't you? You laughed. At me. You feel sorry for me? You. Y-you…you–YOUUUUUUUUUU-!"

Regulus swiped his hand, turning the air that he had disturbed with his palm itself into a lethal weapon that cut across the entire world in front of him. With a single motion, he cleaved away Melodia's existence from his life.

But he didn't stop, his hands continued moving. Again. Again. Again. Again. He swiped, swiped, swiped, swiped, swiped…

Until she was finally gone.


Regulus stood in front of the portion of the mansion that was now utterly destroyed, torn apart and allowing the air to enter. Regulus actually felt the cold now, and that was proof–proof that that woman was truly gone.

As she said, he hadn't even bothered to remember her name anymore, these days. He was glad that he didn't.

Names were truly such trifling, unimportant things–needless societal constructs that made people feel needlessly important and unique. The fact that she still harbored such care for things like that was a sign that she had been dirty from the start–and her true nature had just revealed itself just now.

He didn't care that she had been his childhood friend. Or that he had once cared so much about marrying her. He just cared that she had chosen to stamp on him so ruthlessly, on his important rights–and that she had dared show him such pity.

"I am the perfect man. Needing nothing. Wanting nothing. And you dare speak to me in such a way? YOU DARE?! INFRINGING UPON MY PEACE OF MIND?!"

She was dead, but he could still see it in his head. That annoying image of her smiling. The image of her laughing, at him. The pity in her voice. Those words about her 'feeling sorry' for him.

"DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAMN IIIIIIT!"

Regulus kicked the ground. The earth around him was immediately disturbed, the rest of the mansion cracking, falling, and shattering into pieces. Regulus no longer cared about it. He didn't need to live in a place that had been tainted by such a disgusting woman, after all.

However, after this usage of his Authority, he felt his heart ache, instinctively causing him to bring a hand to his heart. He grit his teeth, feeling that unfamiliar stinging pain now residing in his chest.

This was not ideal. He needed to find himself another wife, and quickly.

However, this time he would be more careful.

He would not have them smile. Or laugh. Or show any expression around him at all. Such expressions would only distort them–make them like her.

He would keep them on a much tighter leash.

"Haha…hahaha! Take that!"

He almost felt a triumph, thinking about how his future wives would be much more sensible and obedient. They would never hold the ugly expressions that she did. They would be pure, untouched, angelic, and most of all, they would never defy him.

"How does it feel?! Knowing that you've died, just making it that much harder on others?! Dying like a coward to avoid your responsibility?! Didn't you call me 'lonely', too?! I'll show you. I'll have much more wives, all of them much more beautiful than you could imagine!"

Regulus shouted into the empty, hostile freezing air. Naturally, nobody or nothing responded. He clicked his tongue, reaching into his robes that were now picking up snow, much to his annoyance.

He took his that black book out–the lovely tome that he now knew was called a 'Gospel', reading it at an almost desperate pace. And let out a relieved breath once he saw the words there, words that only he could possibly understand.

He already knew where he should go to find his next wife…he could easily find another suitable mansion, and best of all, it was not far away. This book truly understood him.

He didn't fit in with the ruffians in the Witch's Cult, but his Gospel was the only real deal.

"That's it…a man as fulfilled such as me need not waste his time thinking about the little value that has been lost. Instead, I should be looking to the future."

Regulus stowed the book away and sighed. Then, he began to trudge forward in the snow, his brows furrowed.

He stopped for a second to look back at the remnants of the mansion, now nothing but a ruin of debris, and then began to walk forward again.

With this, he had truly cut free from every single remnant of his worthless past.

'So why can I still see her face and her those words in my thoughts?!'

While he walked, he couldn't help but gnash his teeth together, practically trudging through the snow.


He would never find an answer to his question.

That maddening thought would not even end once Regulus Corneas would finally be killed in the Watergate City of Priestella, more than a century later.

Imagining the half-elf that had killed him, Emilia, being satisfied over having killed him, her face was what came to mind. And her words overlapped with Emilia's.

"I think you are…the most pitiful person in the world."

'You–are probably going to be the loneliest person in this world, Regulus.'

Regulus died, only then, finally receiving the 100 years' of payback that his First Wife had left him with.