Volume 6 Chapter 25 Preconditions For Forgiveness
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Three figures faced each other across the living room.
At the breakfast table, Klock and Mina sat side by side. Opposite them stood the swordswoman who had been caring for them these past few days. Her back was straight, her posture poised, while a calm yet taut atmosphere lingered among the three.
Mysterious Swordsman — such a title no longer fit her. Her true identity had been unmistakable from the moment Klock first saw her face. He still remembered that face, clear even in the darkness that day, a memory that refused to fade.
Hero Anna.
He had not forgotten the name she claimed from her past life.
Klock turned over her words silently, spoken through those piercing blue eyes, then pressed his palms to his temples. The cold sweat tracing his spine was no trick of his imagination.
The dining room held a thick silence. Mina, somewhat reserved, focused on the sandwich in her hands, the crisp bite of lettuce echoing softly in the quiet space as she shifted her gaze between Klock and the swordswoman.
”I’m sorry,” Anna said quietly, breaking the stillness. “I know I caused confusion. But please, let me say this: I truly regret turning my blade against you.”
Her expression remained composed, unyielding. There was no trace of the girl he once knew—no flicker of the cheerful, energetic spirit he remembered. The woman before him was a stark contrast, colder, distant.
…What a cruel joke.
It almost seemed believable, yet something gnawed at him. The only similarity was a certain casual air she carried. Back then, he thought they were earnest, living in the moment—she was the girl who would take his hand and run freely, carefree.
Doubt flickered, but if he accepted her words, Klock felt his thoughts drift, untethered. His mind, still fogged from recent awakening, struggled to grasp the reality.
”Really, are you Cianie?” Klock asked, voice heavy with disbelief. “If you are, why didn’t you say so sooner?”
”As I said before,” she answered, steady and calm, “I didn’t remember being Cianie. I couldn’t recognize it. My memories were fractured, full of contradictions I couldn’t comprehend. Without the guidance of Ade — the Saint Lady — I might never have known.”
She was Klock’s former lover, Cianie, and once his fiancé, Sylvia — now all one and the same woman, now called Anna.
She claimed amnesia had erased her identity until the sage’s counsel helped her piece it together. Until recently, she’d forgotten she was Cianie and had confused Klock’s former lover with Sylvia.
He blinked at her, amazed how naturally the Saint’s name slipped into conversation. The Saint was a figure of immeasurable importance among humans, perhaps more revered than kings worldwide.
Well, if she truly was a hero, it made sense a celestial like the Saint would appear. After all, the woman standing before him was no ordinary mortal — a celestial being, like the rest of them.
—Though it raised the question of why such a divine figure would stand before a simple, mundane ex-thief.
”…Cianie was dead. Dead, and then reborn…”
”…Yeah. I’m sorry, Klock. I caused you trouble because I couldn’t tell you sooner.”
The trouble wasn’t just a simple matter to be brushed aside. But what truly mattered blurred in the fog of his racing mind.
No, it had to be Cianie.
He’d always wondered, Who is Sylvia?
It was true she had been engaged, and foolishly, he’d hoped he just didn’t remember. That maybe they had met somewhere after all.
He sighed deeply and lifted his gaze to the ceiling. Closing his eyes briefly, he sighed again, trying to clear the chaos within with a deep breath.
Hero Anna was none other than Cianie — his former lover.
This revelation made Klock want to tear his hair out.
Her claim that she had been toyed with and discarded was easy to dismiss coming from a stranger, but from Cianie? It was a bitter truth he could not ignore.
After all, they had once shared wild, reckless moments.
But for Klock, Cianie was a memory he wished remained frozen in time.
She ranked among the top five women he most dreaded seeing again. Their bright memories now cast long shadows.
Back then, he believed a man’s worth was measured by how much he could endure a woman’s whims. He fancied himself a lord who should let his wife do as she pleased. He had sincerely intended to spend his life with Cianie.
But that was a childish fantasy. The Cianie in his memories was a disappointment — a tempest wrapped in nobility, a landmine ready to ruin a man with her selfishness. She was the type to say, “Let’s die together if it comes to that,” dragging him down with her.
Looking back, that was so like her.
Suddenly appearing, sword drawn without warning, never explaining herself but giving off an air of understanding. Suddenly crying out — if that woman was truly Cianie, it all made sense.
Now, older and weathered by life, Klock understood.
Cianie was trouble.
Not simply selfish — she toyed with men, testing love by demanding effort. Their relationship could only have existed in childhood.
A sharp crunch interrupted his thoughts. Mina, cheeks puffed, chewed intently while watching him. Somehow, her presence grounded him. Alone, his anxiety might have gnawed his insides raw.
”Do you… hate me?” he blurted, irritation sharpening his tone.
The question hung heavily, the answer could change everything. Yet she remained calm.
”No,” Anna replied softly. “You turned your back on me, but I understood. I don’t hate you anymore.”
You turned your back. Was she referring to that last day?
That day when Klock abandoned Cianie—not for lack of care but because the weight of the world pressed down too hard.
”I’m sorry,” he admitted, voice low. “I was overwhelmed.”
At that time, he was furious. His sister was suffering abuse at the hands of her fiancé, and he had pleaded with their father to annul the engagement. But political forces blocked him.
Determined, Klock went alone to the opposing territory, ready to risk death to protect his sister. Though not an ally, the head of Royal Territory Livorno’s reckless solo protest could provoke attack.
Yet death did not come. Instead, in his fury, Klock killed Amadei’s heir — Gina’s fiancé and future lord of Amadei.
He fled afterward, vanishing without trace. A brief encounter with Cianie in Livorno ended with him, bloodied and unwilling, running away from her. That was the end.
”It’s past now,” she said quietly. “It was inevitable. I wasn’t understanding enough either.”
Her words widened his eyes. The old Cianie would have puffed her cheeks and pouted, but this woman before him was different — brave, restrained. The past was buried deep.
”How did Cianie die?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
She had always blamed him for Cianie’s death. If this was truly Cianie, the accusation might hold. But the need to know, to test the truth, overcame fear.
”I saw your back one last time,” she said, eyes narrowing as she stared out the window. “Then I died at Croce’s estate. That day, Amadei attacked. They were ambushed, unable to defend themselves. The estate was set aflame, and I couldn’t escape.”
Her jewel-like blue eyes glinted faintly, lost in the past.
When she said she saw my back, it was the moment I fled Amadei’s territory.
It seemed she had come to Livorno seeking aid. On the very day Klock’s fate was sealed by murder, Croce Territory in the southern Theocracy was under sudden attack by Amadei forces. The raid struck without warning, prompting a desperate communication to the central Theocracy. Acting independently and without her parents’ knowledge, Cianie had rushed toward Livorno. Yet, upon receiving what she believed was Klock’s rejection, she turned back to Croce. By then, enemy hands had already reached her territory’s estate—and when she realized it, all hope was lost.
”I’m not blaming you,” Anna said quietly, “but the incident caused by you and me somehow spilled over to Croce… I mean, I’m not trying to pin this on you. It’s just… unfortunate. Sometimes things just spiral out of control.”
In other words, Cianie’s death was a tragic consequence of the murder that Klock was tied to.
Her investigation revealed that Amadei, enraged by the assassination of his eldest son and heir, declared war from Livorno. Believing it necessary to confront the Theocracy—specifically Croce—before his retaliation could escalate, Amadei launched a pre-emptive strike on Sand.
Though a non-aggression treaty bound the Empire, the Kingdom, and the Theocracy, Amadei suspected Croce’s involvement with Livorno following his son’s death. Intent on halting Croce before clashing with Livorno directly, his forces struck with brutal raids—plundering and torching villages without full-scale invasion. Croce and Sand’s inhabitants, unaware of the political tension, suffered immensely. War between Livorno and Amadei erupted but was swiftly curtailed by the intervention of a concerned third nation.
”If I hadn’t fled from Cianie back then, maybe you’d still be alive,” Klock murmured.
”I don’t know,” the other replied. “Maybe both would have perished in the flames of war. And Klock was already running away; no matter how much you care, stopping someone in that state is impossible.”
In truth, it was because it was Cianie that he fled. By that point, Klock had severed their relationship. For Cianie, he might still have been a lover, but for Klock, their bond was broken, communication cut off.
The day before, Klock had recklessly engaged in unprotected sex, intending to discard her. That reckless act should have angered her deeply. Yet, at the time, Klock refrained from speaking to Amadei, preparing himself for death. He acted irresponsibly, hoping that even in death, Cianie might conceive. His flight was in part driven by guilt…
He wondered if she had forgiven him. Maybe she didn’t even remember. If so, it was best kept that way.
”I see. Well, it’s no longer important, but if I had at least gone to see my father, things might have gone differently. Meeting the head of the family, not me, could have changed everything. Well, I wasn’t home then. So, we never met. Besides, my servant—”
”Livorno turned against us,” she said, tilting her head, voice fading as if swallowed by the void—her own words lost meaning to her.
”Huh?” Klock asked. “Does that mean this happened after I left? Because of me, my father ended up challenging Amadei—and at the same time, Croce?”
When Klock questioned, the answer came.
”Um, this all happened while you were still escaping Livorno. Wasn’t the head of Livorno absent that day? Ah, how was it? I think he was there, but—”
”Then Livorno’s hostile move must have come later. How could I know whether they were enemies or not?”
She frowned. Though confused, her uncertainty conveyed the story’s essence. Memory discrepancies remained. Fifteen years had passed; details blurred.
”If that’s so, the timing’s ambiguous. I went to Amadei, then quickly fled. Weren’t the reinforcements supposed to arrive after Amadei’s attack? That means I was under attack while meeting someone from Amadei.”
The timeline didn’t add up. Despite proximity, the walk from Livorno to Amadei’s estate was long. He fled the same day. She spoke of incidents in Croce during that time, but those events were too close together to be accurate.
”True. The trip from Sand Estate to Livorno probably took about six hours.”
”Then I was likely under attack before I met him.”
Her memory led to that conclusion. Amadei’s motives didn’t align with the timeline—likely a muddled memory from 15 years past.
Still, the reason for her death became clearer. Though incomplete, her words came from someone who lived it. The tone held no hint of falsehood. There was no motive for impersonation, and she showed no sign of deceit.
”If the return took the same time, it must have been midnight. Responding to a surprise attack at midnight is impossible. If only I’d stopped it somehow… maybe things would have been different.”
”No, don’t blame yourself. When I returned, a thick fog blocked my sight. I couldn’t see outside, and before I knew it, the house was aflame. I kept calling your name… No, I’m sorry. I think I was doomed to die there.”
Her death was cruel.
The fifteen-year-old girl trapped in a burning house, calling out for a lover who never came. The pain of rejection seared into her last memory. Even if she’d escaped the flames, enemy soldiers likely awaited outside—survivors might face even greater horrors.
The cruelty of it hit hard.
Hearing this so close was painful, regardless of blame.
And the fog… was it just a cruel coincidence?
Klock associated “fog” with a past trauma.
Nearly ten years ago, a ghost panic engulfed the Royal Capital. A dense fog turned the city into a nightmare filled with specters. Klock, who once lived there, had fled alongside his disciple and ex-girlfriend from a giant ghost. The memory remained vivid and haunting.
”I’ve done so much wrong. I understand why you’d hate me, if you’re Cianie. It’s all because of what I could have done. Not just survival—I caused three houses to be destroyed.”
”It’s all in the past. I’m not angry. Actually, I want you to forgive me… for raising my blade. I’m the one who should apologize,” she said, lowering her gaze with genuine sincerity.
Her softness made Klock doubt she was truly Cianie.
Had reincarnation and starting anew softened her? Her tone was far gentler than before.
”I’m not angry either. Let’s just move on,” he said.
”Really? That’s good. I’ve been thinking about how to make amends. After what I did, I thought you’d reject me for sure—but you’re much more open-minded.”
Their conversation flowed easily into reconciliation.
The months-long chase ended effortlessly. Both inwardly clenched fists in silent victory.
…But then.
Something about her response felt off.
At the same moment, a sly glance flickered, scattering Klock’s thoughts. Even a man familiar with women couldn’t help but feel his heart stir, however briefly. Her expression called forth a boyish flutter.
”Honestly, being dumped by you hurt deeply,” she said with a faint smile. “But about dying… it’s less regrettable now. It might sound arrogant, but I think I’m prettier now than in my past life.”
Klock found himself nodding in quiet agreement.
In her previous life, Cianie had been a cute girl. She carried an aura that made it feel like she lived in a wonderland, and while she might not have reached the level of a beautiful woman, she was a daughter who, despite being a handful, resembled a bright, cheerful sun.
The current her was the opposite. She bore a calm, beautiful aura, her features so stunning that even flowers would feel embarrassed to bow their heads before her.
—The more one looked, the more there was to interpret, reinterpret, and reinterpret again.
She was beautiful, certainly elegant, and an impossibly rare bloom.
”Well, if you’re that beautiful, you must be popular,” Klock said lightly.
”…No, that’s not true, so don’t worry about it,” she replied, waving her hands vigorously as if to dispel a false rumor. “I usually try not to stand out, so it’s hard for anyone to recognize me. I don’t have other men coming on to me.”
What kind of reassurance was that? She seemed almost desperate, and that made Klock frown, but when he met her eyes again, all doubt seemed irrelevant. Strangely enough, he found himself accepting her explanation.
…What was it?
Looking at her again, her face was truly—
A strange feeling rose in him, causing a reflexive glance away. She was genuinely beautiful. So beautiful that the beauty enveloping her suddenly felt like poison.
It was different from mere appearance, something sensed only through consciousness and interpretation.
It was something else—specifically, a kind of curse born from an unrecognizable power.
Perhaps it should be called supernatural beauty. It was somewhat like—
”…What’s wrong? Are you curious about this face?” she asked softly. “My body is a manifestation of a goddess’s delusion. It is the crystallization of all she idealized—the embodiment of a woman’s longing. This is a divine body specially adjusted for me.”
The word femme fatale crossed Klock’s mind.
A wicked woman who deceives men, lures them in, and toys with them. She invites them to bed with a lewd smile, a woman capable of bringing nations to ruin.
”Do I look beautiful…? This is my power as a demigod. I can make myself appear more beautiful than anyone else, realizing the ideal woman of my lover.”
It seemed she could make others perceive her as beautiful. The goddess’s highest ideal of a woman was eternal beauty.
In other words, if she wished, people would lose interest in her. If she wished—
”Am I becoming Klock’s ideal woman?” she whispered with a smile.
The hero chuckled softly.
It seemed she now longed to be thought beautiful.
Before the power of the gods, familiarity with women was irrelevant. When Klock looked at her, he was struck as if he were a boy gazing at a beautiful adult woman.
—She strung together terrifying words with a triumphant expression. Even that appearance felt beautiful, and Klock’s mind was simply bewildered.
”…What… are you saying? What is my ideal woman? It’s too late to become something like that,” he muttered.
”Why? It’s not something that can’t be helped. I always want to be thought beautiful by my lover. That’s something every woman has thought, both now and in the past,” she said gently.
The new Cianie was far too beautiful.
A feeling arose in Klock—a possessive urge to lock her in a room and claim her immediately.
Why did he feel that way? Because she wanted to be thought of that way.
In other words, she was an existence bound by a concept curse that only affected Klock.
”I don’t get it. What is a lover?” he asked, bewildered.
”…I’ve become a hero, but I haven’t lost the desire to be thought beautiful by you. I am Anna, but my soul remains Cianie, your lover, so don’t worry,” she answered with a gentle smile, her brow furrowing briefly.
She was like a living image of a goddess. It took a moment for her words to sink in.
Klock, furrowing his brow deeply, was dumbfounded.
Beautiful—so beautiful that he inwardly questioned what she was saying.
No matter how beautiful she was, it didn’t mean everything could be glossed over. What she said entered the realm of incomprehensibility, forcing him to think carefully.
…What was this person saying?
Wait, did she still think they were lovers?
…Seriously?
She had an appearance almost devoid of Cianie’s essence, yet she smiled in a way that somehow reminded him of her. As if to showcase a beautiful tiara, she proudly tossed her hair, flaunting her new self.
The manner of that gesture was strikingly similar to the old Cianie.
She averted her gaze, scratching her cheek as if to escape her own eyes.
Burning in the flames of thoughts about Klock, the childhood friend had turned to ashes. Whether it was resentment or pleading—at the end of that obsession, she had gained the power to absolutely attract Klock’s attention and restart her life.
Was that interpretation acceptable? If so, it made her seem abruptly formidable.
”What’s wrong? Is there something else you want to ask?” she prompted softly.
”…No, it’s just… I think it might be a bit much to consider you a lover,” Klock replied cautiously.
He wanted to believe it was a misunderstanding, a quirk of language, but needed to correct it.
The relationship with Cianie had ended fifteen years ago. Their ties had long since been severed. Klock already had another partner, and in Suzette’s womb, the next generation was already budding. Any misunderstanding here would only lead to mutual misfortune.
”…A bit much? What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
”…Well, you see… it’s been fifteen years. Still calling you a lover is—”
”Because fifteen years have passed, so what? I don’t remember breaking up after we started dating,” she interrupted coldly.
A chilling sense of foreboding surged through her.
Coincidentally, Mina next to her let out a startled, “Huh?!” and jumped.
For a moment, she turned her gaze toward Mina as if recalling her presence, then quickly returned her eyes to the provisional Cianie.
Her eyes were wide open. Rather than just surprised, she was staring straight at Klock with an atmosphere reminiscent of a threat.
—What she exuded was faint yet palpable murderous intent.
”Klock. I said before that I certainly don’t hate you. But that’s because I’ve decided to forgive you since you’re my lover. I haven’t forgotten what you did to me. The day before my death, didn’t you do whatever you wanted to me? I said no, yet you did it to my belly multiple times. Do you remember how angry I got? I remember it clearly. Of course, I’ll forgive you. Because you’re my lover. If it’s something my future husband desires, I’ll accept it. But if you did that to me when we weren’t lovers, I will kill you, okay?”
The clang of metal striking metal rang sharply as she suddenly rose, causing Klock to flinch reflexively.
”After having sullied me so thoroughly, you can’t just break up now. You intended to make a baby with me, didn’t you? That’s the act of a married couple. You treated me as your wife. Therefore, take proper responsibility. If not, I won’t be able to forgive you. Now I am more beautiful than anyone in your life, aren’t I? You want to make me yours, don’t you? I think that even if I have countless lives, my only lover should be Klock. I forgave all the misfortunes that befell me, thinking they were to support my lover, but what is it that you hate the most?”
She opened her eyes wide—so wide that the blood vessels shimmered vividly beneath the surface. Her beauty remained untouched, but pure terror radiated from her gaze.
”Since the ring you gave me is already lodged in my soul, withdrawing now is out of the question,” she said, voice low but deadly. “If you say we should break up, I will kill you. I will absolutely kill you. Right now, I will kill you… No, instead, die with me. If that’s the case, I can accept it. If you don’t want to be together in this world, then let’s be together under her—the goddess of the underworld.”
She paced around the table and stopped abruptly before Klock. The weight of her words settled like a shadow.
This is bad. This is really bad.
Realizing he’d stepped onto a metaphorical landmine, Klock sprang up, thrusting both hands forward with practiced urgency to halt her. Pushing aside the nagging doubt in his mind—whether she remembered or not—he scrambled for words.
”No, no, wait, wait!” he stammered, voice cracking. “That—you see… I just wasn’t sure if you were still Cianie or not… I was just trying to figure out if you really were my lover, Cianie! You know, I’m really insensitive to that sort of thing!”
”Right?” he added weakly.
She blinked, her face blank for a moment before flailing her hands in nervous apology. “…Is that what you mean? I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions. I thought for sure I was going to be discarded… I panicked.”
Her murderous glare softened, replaced by something almost vulnerable. Klock exhaled sharply, cold sweat prickling down his back.
Annoying. Yet so easy.
No matter how much Klock tried to rationalize, he’d never faced a woman he discarded returning in a new life. It seemed that even memories from a past life counted as valid grudge fuel. His heart thudded painfully. His legs trembled under the pressure, bracing instinctively for the explosion of emotions he knew was imminent.
No, this is bad! Don’t talk about dying with me. Your way of thinking hasn’t changed at all since your past life, has it? I can’t be involved with such a fool.
Her words were clear enough. Even if it was a past life, memory was enough for resentment. Klock knew well how a proud woman could nurse a grudge after being discarded.
But Klock already had another woman. Suzette. Pregnant. He’d noticed her secret visits to the traveling pastor. He confirmed it later—they were together.
If Cianie suddenly reappeared acting like the rightful girlfriend, trouble was inevitable, regardless of blame.
”But—this is bad,” Klock admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Now that you mention it, I can’t explain that you were Cianie with anything other than words. For some reason, you don’t have any memory of being Cianie. Even whenyou was at Hartmann’s house, you somehow mistook it for some kind of villa or something.”
She frowned, troubled, then picked up the glass and drank water slowly.
I haven’t even touched the breakfast, he realized. The mood wasn’t right for sharing a meal, and he had no appetite. Mina, who had already finished eating, silently shifted her gaze back and forth between Klock and Cianie, as if weighing their truth. The thought of having to explain all this to her later tightened the knot in his chest.
”The only thing left to consider would be… sex?” Cianie suggested, voice cool and steady. “Since that’s something you can’t do unless you’re lovers, would that make you believe me?”
”N-no… I don’t think I’m in the mood for that right now,” Klock replied, flushing.
”Is that so? I see,” she said calmly. “It might be improper for me to say this, but I’m always ready in my heart.”
Her expression remained unchanged, serene and distant. Unlike Adelina, who was warm and lively, Cianie was like a doll—animated, yet strangely hollow. She spoke and showed emotion, but at moments that mattered most, her face was eerily still, like porcelain—beautiful but unreadable.
With that unsettling calm and her flawless face, she declared she would kill him, then casually invited him to bed. Even Klock, usually unfazed, trembled in fear.
Notes:
• Mina – She is a golden-haired catgirl employee of the beastman (Larana the cat woman) Inn, appeared performing fellatio, desperate and tear-streaked, with an inexperienced yet earnest approach to her work.
• Anna – The legendary Hero, chosen to defeat the Demon Lord. Her past life is Sylvia Croce. She is described as a heavenly being with overwhelming skill and a merciless attitude.
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
• Sylvia – The hero who accuses Klock of abandoning her in her past life. She was reborn as Anna after dying in a fire and holds a grudge against Klock.
• Gina – A kind choir member who shows genuine concern for Adelina. She’s a rare ally in this unfamiliar place, offering some comfort and companionship.
• Suzette – The older maid from Viscount Fennec. The head maid at the Viscount Fennec’s villa. She is confident, clear-spoken, and professional.
• Adelina – The slave girl.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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