“A woman, of all things…”
They had been eagerly speculating about the Emperor’s mysterious partner, but no clear candidate had emerged.
“Could it be… she used some kind of vile charm to ensnare His Majesty?”
“My, what a thing to suggest!”
“But really—an unknown woman with no cultivation background catching the heart of the Emperor? Isn’t that odd?”
At that, they all let out gasps of mock surprise, hiding their mouths behind their fans.
But as always, the more scandalous the rumor, the more irresistible it became. And so, despite their tone, the noble ladies giggled as they whispered things that would make the heavens furious to hear.
It was then that a sound broke through the air.
A sharp
crack
—like a twig snapping underfoot.
“Wait… did anyone else hear that?”
“What? Don’t scare me!”
Iris also looked up, because she’d heard it clearly.
The sound had come from the nearby thicket—something unnatural.
A guttural growl, almost beast-like.
Fear washed over the young ladies. Not knowing what it was, they held their breath in terror.
Rustle—
“Kyaaaah!”
This time, the sound came much closer, and the noble ladies shrieked in panic, scattering.
“Guards! Call the guards!”
“There’s a beast!”
“W-Wait! Grand Duchess!”
But even as chaos erupted, Iris alone grabbed her sword and ran toward the thicket.
The holy sword embedded in her brooch trembled violently, calling to her.
She didn’t know what it was she was sensing—but whatever it was, it felt like the thing the sacred texts had spoken of.
And then—
It’s not a beast.
What had seemed like a monstrous growl earlier vanished like an echo in the wind.
All that remained now was the unsteady sound of human footsteps.
As she drew near the source of the sound, bloodstains began to appear on the ground.
The holy sword floated from her brooch, its blade shimmering faintly, pointing toward a single direction like a compass.
Without hesitation, Iris ran.
She sprinted so hard her breath came ragged—
“Gah!”
Something black darted out underfoot.
Iris leapt gracefully, avoiding it, and turned to see what had emerged.
Haa— haa—
It was a person. Or rather, what remained of one.
A man, drenched in blood.
His silver hair—once soft and lustrous—was soaked red, clinging to his cheek.
Even unconscious, his face remained striking and serene. An almost unnatural beauty clung to him.
“This… man…”
Iris covered her mouth in shock.
That silver hair… it’s the same as the one I saw at the festival.
Judging by the reaction of the holy sword, and several other clues, this had to be the same man who brushed past her during the festivities.
This face…
The moment she looked at him fully, memories surged back.
She knew this man.
Theodore Hill.
The illegitimate son of Duke Hill of the Eastern Province.
In her previous life—before regression—he had taken his own life during this very Hunting Rite.
Whether or not his death had been the cause, the powerful Duke of Hill had entered seclusion soon after.
With the duke’s absence, the Eastern region fell under heavier influence from the Emperor’s faction.
But it wasn’t Theodore’s identity alone that left Iris shaken.
“What is this…”
His entire body was covered in dark, writhing characters—cursed script—etched like a brand into his flesh.
Iris furrowed her brows at the markings. She couldn’t read them, but she knew they weren’t of this world.
Still, saving him came first.
Can I even heal this?
She had to try. At the very least, she had to get him to a healer.
As she rose urgently to her feet—
“Ah.”
The man gripped her wrist.
She looked down to see his eyes barely open, staring straight at her.
They were a deep, warm green—like the heart of summer.
“Hey, can you hear me?” Iris asked softly.
He didn’t respond right away, but then—
His eyes became glassy.
And then tears spilled quietly down his cheek.
Despite the curses written all over his body, the sight of his tears felt inexplicably pure.
“Please… save me… angel…”
His lips barely moved, but the words slipped out.
And like a falling flower, he collapsed into unconsciousness.
The man had completely lost consciousness.
What should I do?
His delirium made it obvious he wasn't in his right mind. To suddenly call her an angel—how could he?
She’d wondered if the markings on his body were wounds, but they weren’t. They looked more like tattoos than injuries.
I’ve seen his face, but the original novel never mentioned anything like this.
That meant Theodore wasn’t a key figure in Cedric’s narrative. Then… what in the heavens were these strange letters?
“Duchess of Leonteim!”
A voice called from behind—it was one of the patrol knights.
Should I inform them?
But something held her back.
Before I regressed…
Duke Hill, having discovered his son missing, had mobilized the entire guard and his own knights to launch a desperate search. And what they found was his son’s lifeless body, hanging by the neck.
My son would never take his own life!
Duke Hill had proclaimed his grief loudly, full of conviction. Yet the patrols and investigators in charge had firmly concluded it was suicide. The scene, to all appearances, had confirmed it.
But…
Right now, Iris found herself agreeing with Duke Hill’s words. This man—he hadn’t taken his own life.
If I recall the past clearly...
Even the guards who testified that Theodore had taken his own life—there was something suspicious about all of them.
Revealing this man’s current state to the patrol would do more harm than good.
Especially if he had any connection to the Divine Sword.
That’s what Iris decided.
Once he awakens, I’ll get the truth from him.
And the tears he had shed upon seeing her… they were filled with too much sorrow.
Iris gently carried him in her arms.
“Ugh…”
A groan slipped from the man’s lips.
“Bear with it a little longer.”
No—wait.
How did he hear me?
Though the man seemed to regain consciousness for a moment, he quickly shut his eyes and pretended to be out cold.
Honestly… it was a little embarrassing.
Leonteim’s barracks were set far apart from those of the other nobles.
After laying the man on the bed, Iris let out a deep breath.
He seemed to stir halfway through the trip...
But he had passed out again before they arrived.
I got lucky.
Despite the risk of running into someone, she hadn’t encountered a single soul along the way.
It’s too dangerous to involve anyone else.
Especially with the strange inscriptions on his body and the matter of the Divine Sword—none of it could be shared with others carelessly.
Still, there was a chance she had left a blood trail without knowing it. Iris needed to assess the man’s condition quickly.
“Pardon me.”
She examined the letters on his exposed wrist.
At first, she’d thought the script was indecipherable, but upon closer inspection—though densely packed—it was legible.
“I shall not perish in this place.”
The moment she read the first line, the brooch at her chest began to tremble violently.
She hurriedly drew the Divine Sword from the brooch—
“Ah!”
—light burst forth as the blade rose into the air.
Just like in the vault, golden wind spiraled outward.
In the blink of an eye, the inscriptions on the man’s body began to react, drawing the golden light in.
Stunned, Iris watched, captivated by the scene—then instinctively began to read the text still etched into his body.
Her hair ornaments had come undone at some point, and her locks danced wildly in the wind.
“I shall strip away all that you love, and reclaim my rightful place. Let all things wither, even if they bloom again. I am eternal. Just as the blood within the vessel you chose shall flow and flow without end. Once, I was the one who followed you most faithfully.”
By the time she finished reading, Iris’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
They were merely words… and yet the emotions embedded in them overwhelmed her.
A venomous hatred, unrelenting and deep.
As if its purpose had been fulfilled, the Divine Sword clattered to the ground with a dull thud.
But still...
She couldn’t quite grasp the full picture.
She picked up the sword again, rotating and shaking it, but it only shivered in response—as if declaring it had nothing more to show her.
“Mmm…”
Just then, as she wrestled with the blade’s silence, the man stirred awake.
His eyes opened slightly, dazed, and slowly focused on Iris.
No way...
Iris froze, terrified at the thought of being caught wielding the Divine Sword.
But the man said nothing.
He simply stared at her, long and hard.
Then, tilting his head slightly, he spoke in a hoarse whisper.
“…Could it be…? Are you truly… an angel?”
“Ah—”
“Did he think I was an immortal just because of the holy sword?”
Well, it couldn't be helped. Still, letting others glimpse the true form of the sacred blade was premature.
Fortunately…
The moment the holy sword absorbed the cursed script, the man looked as though he’d never been wounded—completely unscathed.
Holding up the sword, Iris spoke calmly.
“This is, unfortunately, just an ordinary blade.”
And then—
“My apologies.”
“Urk—!”
She struck the back of his neck with precision, knocking him out cleanly.
Just moments after regaining consciousness, the man had been hauled onto Iris’s back—only to be knocked out again with the edge of her hand.
Blink, blink.
Theodore’s eyelids fluttered open slowly. He shot upright.
Something’s not right.
He was certain he'd been rescued by an immortal.
And then… she knocked me out.
An immortal? Knock someone out?
Wait—was she not an immortal at all? Then what did he see?
“No way, was she a—”
“You’re awake?”
“Yah!”
Startled by the voice beside him, Theodore ducked beneath the blanket, peeking over it cautiously.
Yes… this was the face from his dream.
That soft, pale violet hair.
Those sky-colored eyes—ethereal and serene.
“Um… your arm. Are you alright?”
Iris gave a sheepish smile as she offered him a warm cup of tea.
Only then did Theodore snap out of it and lower the blanket, hurriedly accepting the cup.
“Th-Thank you very much.”
So she wasn’t an immortal, after all.
Now that he was more awake, the memories started flooding back.
Had he really kept calling a mortal woman an angel?
He lowered his head in utter embarrassment, wishing he could vanish.
Iris watched him, wondering if he was in pain.
“Are you alright? Still hurting anywhere?”
“N-No, not at all… I’m fine, truly…”
As Theodore steadied his nerves, he finally looked up.
His face was a bit red, but he didn’t seem feverish.
Seeing how tense he was, Iris decided to introduce herself first.
“I am Iris von Leonteim.”
Theodore looked surprised.
He had heard that the Grand Duke of Leonteim had recently taken a wife—rumored to be the second daughter of House Valentine.
So… she’s the one.
Everyone used to call her Valentine’s fool.
Theodore, also burdened with a reputation, had felt a quiet sense of kinship with her from afar.
But the woman in front of me…
Even sitting casually, she radiated a quiet grace. She looked so composed—so unlike his own fragile self.
“Um…”
Realizing he’d been staring, Theodore quickly spoke up.
“A-Ah… I’m Theodore Hill.”
Unlike Iris’s calm tone, his voice trembled slightly.
What should he say next?
He glanced down at his arms and legs—
His body was unharmed. The black script had vanished entirely.
“Did… did you save me, Grand Consort?”
“I was the one who found you, at least.”
Iris calmly explained where he was and what had happened.
“This is the Grand Consort’s private tent. I brought you here in secret—no one saw.”
“Ah… I see. Thank you.”
Theodore blinked slowly, as if searching for something, tilting his head.
“Um… that’s strange.”
He remembered…
“When I saw the immortal, there was definitely a sword—”
“Lord Hill.”
“Yes!”
Iris’s sharp interruption made him stiffen in alarm.
“What exactly happened to you?”
Theodore shook his head slowly, like trying to bring a fragmented memory into focus.
“Well… I honestly don’t know.”
He truly remembered little.
He hadn’t even wanted to attend the Hunt. His father, Duke Hill, had forced him.
“I was just looking for a quiet place to hide, like always.”
He found a decent tree. Sat beneath it with a book, intending to return once the festival ended.
Then something attacked him.
He remembered running—running in agony, fleeing something unseen—
“Urgh!”
Chapter 70