The End of Your Arrogance - Chapter 0: Prologue

Evelyn Madoos followed the knight into a shabby hut.

“You’ve come?”

A middle-aged man sat atop the back of the knight, who lay prostrate on the floor, and greeted her.

But he’s still my father… Maybe he’s here to save me and my child. Evelyn’s heart pounded, a mixture of anxiety and hope swirling within her.

With a trembling voice, she greeted her father.

“F-Father! Have you been well…?”

“Take off your robe.”

“······!”

Her hands trembled as she removed the robe draped over her shoulders.

Her father scrutinized her from head to toe, his gaze as if assessing merchandise.

“Leave the child here and remarry. Since the boy carries the blood of Azantis, he will still be of use.”

“…What? R-Remarry?”

“After what happened to your brother on the battlefield… Your husband will likely seek to divorce you upon his return. He’s being hailed as a war hero, and daughters from all over are being thrust upon him.”

“What happened,” he says… Ha. My child and I did nothing wrong. You were the ones who betrayed him!

The words burned at the back of her throat, but she swallowed them down. Instead, she fell flat onto the dirt floor, begging for mercy from the cold-hearted father before her.

“Father, please… I’ll take my child and leave far away. We’ll live as if we were dead…”

Clack! A lavishly decorated sword sheath lifted Evelyn’s chin. Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw her father, Ayatol Madoos, seated arrogantly before her.

“Useless thing! You couldn’t even capture a man’s heart properly.”

“We were married for only a month…”

Smack!

Before she could finish speaking, the sheath struck her hard. The pain was so intense that she couldn’t even scream—only curl into herself, gasping for breath.

In a daze, she tried to recall the face of the man who was now just a distant memory.

One month. That was all the time they had spent together, meeting for the first time on their wedding day.

Three months after her husband left for war, she discovered she was pregnant.

Evelyn had married at twenty, and at twenty-one, she bore a son.

She had written to her husband a few times while he was at war.

Thanks to her patriarchal father, she had never learned to read or write. But she wanted to tell her husband that their child was growing well, so she worked hard to learn.

The baby moved in my belly for the first time today.

Our son was born. Would you like to name him?

But he never replied.

Not even once.

She no longer wrote crooked letters in her letters. She stopped asking if a letter had arrived from her husband. Instead, she spent countless nights poring over books and named her son herself.

Liber Azantis.

A truly free one.

May he grow up healthy and live as freely as his name.

“Liber, my Liber.”

She whispered her young son’s name soundlessly. Somehow, the pain seemed to lessen a little, and Evelyn straightened her posture.

“Do you know how much compensation I paid that bastard? You’re nothing but an illegitimate brat, yet you dare act so arrogantly… Stop your nonsense and marry into the Eastern lands. Even the fifth concubine’s position is too good for a woman with a child.”

Even through her suffering, she let out a hollow laugh.

So that was it. The enormous compensation given to her husband to smooth over her brother’s betrayal—she had wondered where that money had come from. It seemed her father had already sold her off to some depraved old man, knowing she would soon be divorced.

“I will survive. No matter what. With my child.”

Her lips were pressed so tightly together that she could taste the metallic tang of blood.

The sound of dragging boots faded into the distance.

Evelyn rose, dusted off her wrinkled dress, and steadied herself.

It was time to return to hell.