I Helped The Imprisoned Male Lead And He Became Obsessed - Chapter 75

As the glowing halo faded, the brown-haired woman slowly turned to face him.

The moment her face came into view, Emilian’s crimson eyes locked onto a visage he didn’t recognize.

This wasn’t Anise.

The woman, who bore no resemblance to her, looked back at him with puzzled eyes.

Realizing his mistake, Emilian slowly released the grip he had on her shoulder. The woman tilted her head a few times in confusion before walking away, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Emilian stood frozen in place, staring at the spot where she had vanished.

“…Am I too late?”

He had been so certain he’d caught up.

But perhaps Anise had already left this place.

His fingers tightened around the tracking artifact. The faint thread of light it once emitted was now entirely gone, leaving no trace behind.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to accept the truth—that he had lost her.

Desperate, he began checking the faces of the passersby around him, searching through the bustling crowd.

But no matter where he looked, Anise was nowhere to be found.

Time slipped by as his frantic search consumed him. The sky grew darker, and droplets of rain began to fall, speckling the streets.

The drizzle soon turned into a downpour. As the rain came down harder, pedestrians scattered to find shelter, and the streets quickly emptied.

Cold rain poured down on Emilian, soaking him to the skin. He didn’t bother to wipe the water streaming down his face.

The storm intensified, and a misty haze rose from the ground as the rain lashed the city.

Suddenly, a dry, bitter laugh escaped his lips.

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of it all—standing in an unfamiliar city, drenched to the bone, searching for the woman who had vanished without a word, leaving him behind.

The laugh didn’t last long.

Though his body was chilled by the rain, his mind burned hot with determination.

Covering his face with one hand, Emilian murmured to himself,

“Fine, Anise. Run as far as you like.”

“I’ll find you, even if I have to chase you to the ends of hell.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, opening them slowly.

When they reopened, there was no warmth left in them—only a fierce, unyielding obsession.

***

The imperial palace was thrown into chaos by the news of Dietrich’s escape.

The matter was immediately reported to the Emperor.

Sitting at his desk, the Emperor rubbed his temples to alleviate the faint headache that had begun to creep in.

How Dietrich had managed to escape while wearing magic restraints was still under investigation. Progress would likely be made once the unconscious guard, a key witness, regained consciousness.

Though a spell prohibiting murder had been engraved on Dietrich, there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t harm innocent people.

The Emperor had been fully aware of the risks of using Dietrich but had believed the situation was under control. Clearly, he had been mistaken.

Pressing his fingers to his temple, the Emperor turned to the knight standing guard beside him.

“Vincent, where is Emilian right now?”

The report stated that Emilian had engaged Dietrich in combat but had allowed him to escape rather than pursue him.

The Emperor couldn’t begin to guess why Emilian had let Dietrich go.

“The guards are tracking his location, Your Majesty. We should receive news shortly,” Vincent replied.

Vincent hoped fervently that Emilian hadn’t intentionally let Dietrich escape. There was no way Emilian would betray the Emperor or the Empire—but the reasoning behind his actions remained a mystery.

The room fell into silence after their brief exchange, until a servant’s voice called from outside.

“Your Majesty, the transcendent Emilian has arrived.”

At the Emperor’s command, the doors opened.

When Emilian entered, both the Emperor and Vincent’s eyes widened in surprise.

He was drenched from head to toe. Water dripped from his black hair and the edges of his cloak, forming small puddles on the floor.

“Emilian,” the Emperor said, shocked. “Where on earth have you been? And what is the meaning of this appearance?”

Emilian’s expression remained emotionless as he replied,

“Anise has disappeared. I’ve been searching for her.”

Anise has disappeared?

The Emperor and Vincent were at a loss for how to react to the unexpected news.

But the Emperor quickly grasped something and asked sharply,

“Is that why you didn’t pursue Dietrich?”

Emilian was silent for a moment. Then he spoke,

“…The failure to capture Dietrich is my responsibility. I will accept any punishment for it.”

It wasn’t a direct answer to the Emperor’s question, but it said enough.

The Emperor understood that Emilian had prioritized finding Anise over fulfilling his duties as a transcendent.

He was well aware of how much Anise meant to Emilian.

Because of this, he found himself unable to reprimand Emilian for his decision.

Still, the timing was troubling. The day Dietrich escaped was the very day Anise vanished.

The Emperor wasn’t sure what connection there might be, but for now, the greatest concern was recapturing Dietrich.

The Emperor massaged his eyes with a weary hand and spoke in a measured tone.

“I didn’t summon you here to reprimand you, nor do I intend to punish you.”

“….”

“For now, return to your quarters and get some rest.”

The exhaustion in the Emperor’s tone was unmistakable. Emilian gave a slight nod of acknowledgment before turning to leave.

As the Emperor watched his retreating figure, there was something unsettling about Emilian’s unsteady demeanor.

Turning to Vincent, the Emperor gave a quiet command.

“Investigate Anise’s disappearance separately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Vincent replied.

Though the Emperor was troubled by Emilian’s unusual state, he knew he had to focus on the more immediate issue at hand—Dietrich’s escape.

As he pressed his throbbing temples, another visitor arrived at the office.

It was Count Bloedel, the Emperor’s secretary. The count bowed respectfully before raising his head to speak.

“Your Majesty, I must deliver urgent news.”

“What is it?”

“The guard who was present at the time of Dietrich’s escape has regained consciousness.”

“…!”

Both the Emperor and Vincent turned their full attention to Count Bloedel.

“Is that true?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. He claims that someone was present when Dietrich escaped.”

The Emperor’s brow furrowed at the unexpected revelation.

“Who does he say it was?”

Despite the Emperor’s imposing question, Count Bloedel hesitated, as if reluctant to name the person.

Under the Emperor’s piercing gaze, the count finally spoke after a brief pause of indecision.

“It was the Saintess, Serena.”

“…!”

***

The goddess of mercy and love, Eurelia, gazed down at Serena with her serene, gentle expression.

Serena stood silently before the statue of the goddess, her eyes fixed on the divine figure with its outstretched wings and prayerful hands.

Due to the chaos in the palace caused by Dietrich’s escape, the scheduled worship service had been canceled.

The usually bustling temple was now quiet, with only a few priests remaining, offering their prayers in hushed tones.

In the tranquil atmosphere of the temple, Serena lifted her gaze to the goddess’s face.

“Goddess, have I made the wrong choice?”

All she had wanted was for Emilian to notice her. For that to happen, Anise needed to disappear.

That was why she had used Dietrich to ensure that Emilian couldn’t follow Anise.

She hoped the two of them would remain apart forever.

But if only Emilian hadn’t been so indifferent to her, she wouldn’t have taken such drastic measures.

She had only wanted to be loved.

Was it such a sin to want to be loved by someone you care for?

Serena searched the goddess’s expression for an answer, but the statue’s serene face offered none.

At that moment, a commotion outside the temple caught her attention.

Turning her head toward the entrance, Serena felt an unshakable sense of unease creep over her.

Her fingers clutched at the fabric of her robes instinctively.

If that guard has regained consciousness, they’ll know I went to see Dietrich.

Thanks to the spell prohibiting Dietrich from killing, the guard had survived to become a witness.

How much simpler it would have been if the guard had never woken up.

Such thoughts were unbecoming of someone devoted to the goddess. Serena knew this, yet the thought surfaced unbidden.

It was then that raised voices at the temple entrance broke through her reverie.

The sound of footsteps on the stone floor followed—accompanied by the clinking of metal.

Serena’s eyes widened as she saw palace guards entering the sanctuary, pushing aside priests who tried to block their way.

“This is a sacred place! Leave immediately!” shouted one of the priests, their voice trembling with outrage.

The guards, undeterred, held up an imperial decree stamped with the Emperor’s seal.

“We are here under the orders of His Majesty,” one guard declared firmly.

The priests froze in shock, giving the guards the opening to march through the nave, heading directly toward Serena.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest, but she forced herself to step forward, maintaining a composed expression and tone.

“What is the meaning of this commotion in a sacred space?”

She kept her voice as calm as she could manage.

But her composure cracked when the guards flanked her, as if she were a prisoner.

“Forgive us for the intrusion,” one guard said.

“What is the meaning of this?” Serena cried, her voice sharp as she tried to shake off their grip. The guards, however, did not budge.

One of them spoke, delivering the statement with cold finality.

“Saintess Serena, you are under suspicion of aiding in Dietrich’s escape. You must come with us.”