To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 133

“Eh-heh-radiya~ You have to look to the sky to reach the stars~ What good is a woman without her man~”

A melodious song suddenly echoed in the quiet night. The man who had been listening stood still, rubbing his eyes.

‘How strange.’

What he saw was still the same angelic figure. A woman in flowing white indoor clothes with long, silky platinum hair cascading down her back, gazing out from the balcony. The moonlight softly bathed her in a mystical glow, but the folksy background music clashing with the scene made it impossible to stay immersed.

“When will you return if you leave now~ At least tell me the date~ Oh-ho!”

There was an odd intensity behind the lady’s voice as she sang. Unable to endure the unexpectedly soulful melody any longer, Jin cleared his throat with a cough.

“Lady Irel. Sorry to interrupt, but… that song, what exactly…?”

“Oh my, Jin! When did you get here?”

Startled, Irel quickly closed her mouth and smiled. Despite her graceful smile, cold sweat trickled down her back.

‘Caught red-handed?’

She had been waiting for Varkan, who had yet to arrive. Tonight, the moonlight was especially beautiful, and the marble villa, once used as a retreat, seemed particularly romantic.

If only Varkan were here, everything would have been perfect. But he wasn’t, and that left a hollow feeling in Irel’s chest. So, to pass the time and vent some frustration, she’d begun singing an old lament about widows, only to be caught by Jin.

“Heh…”

She let out an awkward laugh and unconsciously sighed. When had she grown to like Varkan this much?

Being far from the capital and separated from Varkan for so long made her realize her feelings for him more clearly. He was still incomplete, impulsive, arrogant, and a bit crazy, but she missed all of those things about him.

‘Maybe I’m the one who’s truly crazy.’

With that thought, another sigh slipped out. On top of that, recent conversations with Bubble added even more confusion to her mind.

The revelation that she had originally belonged here, and that she would never suddenly be flung back to her life as Lee Raeyeon in South Korea, was a relief. But still…

‘Why do they keep calling me sister? Could I really be a Vlad?’

No, no way. If that were true, she wouldn’t have been attacked by Keaton in the hat shop, and the Masakas around her would have noticed earlier.

Still, the uncertainty about the secrets buried within her left her feeling uneasy. What if this mystery forced her to leave Varkan someday?

‘I don’t want that.’

Irel’s eyes grew dull, deep in her own thoughts. Jin, watching her, gently asked,

“Are you feeling very lonely? You’ve come all this way but haven’t had any private time with the eldest brother.”

With his keen perception, Jin seemed to have figured out Irel’s emotions—standing on the balcony, singing in the moonlight, clearly longing for someone. Irel sighed as she responded,

“Why would I be upset? It’s all for work, anyway.”

She was being honest. Varkan pretended to be fine, but every time she saw him, he looked worse. He seemed anxious and utterly exhausted.

‘After all that effort, he still couldn’t get the breath.’

How deeply must he feel that loss? With that in mind, she felt more sorrow than disappointment towards him. As her emotions showed on her face, Jin was oddly moved on her behalf.

“My goodness, you’re so kindhearted, too.”

Are all Risevra this angelic? Jin thought of Bianca, waiting for him back home.

‘Who would have guessed I’d ever have someone who warms my heart just by thinking of them?’

Perhaps this was why Risevra were often called “gifts from the gods.” Lost in reverent thought, Jin was pulled back to reality by a sudden noise.

BAM!

A loud crash echoed from downstairs, followed by the sound of voices and footsteps. Startled, Irel’s eyes widened as she asked,

“What’s going on?”

“That’s Eldest Brother’s voice. It seems Lord Phaesus is with him too,” Jin muttered, his sharp Masaka hearing having picked up the sounds from downstairs. He then looked at Irel with a hesitant expression.

“It seems something’s happening. Would you mind if I went to check?”

“Of course, go ahead. I’ll follow soon,” Irel replied.

After receiving her permission, Jin left. Irel, too, began to prepare to head downstairs, throwing a thick robe over her indoor clothes. As she glanced around the room, searching for her shoes, a sudden tug on her skirt made her stop.

‘Where did I leave my shoes?’ she wondered as she stood there, puzzled. Then, someone gently pulled at her hem.

“Irel, my lady.”

“Oh my gosh!” Irel nearly kicked in surprise. Jumping in place, she quickly looked down to find a familiar puppet at her feet.

“Good heavens, Phaesus! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she grumbled, clutching her chest. The puppet, looking up at her with its small lips moving ever so slightly, apologized.

“My apologies. The situation is urgent.”

“Why? What happened?”

Irel’s tone immediately became serious. Ever since arriving in Al Los Condes, there had been constant chaos, leaving her on edge all the time.

‘I think I understand why Varkan was so worried about coming here.’

With instincts like a wild animal’s, Varkan had known all along. Danger lurked everywhere beyond his own territory.

“Well… During our interrogation of Archbishop Ramon, the Royal Masaka Guard attacked.”

Of course. As expected, it was bad news.

“Oh no! Is everyone okay? What about Varkan?”

“I’m fine, but as for Lord Varkan…”

“What? What happened to him?” Irel asked, her breath catching. A dreadful feeling made her heart pound in her chest, and her ears buzzed. She could scarcely focus on what Phaesus was saying next.

“He used too much of his power in the fight. As a result, the suppressed energy within him began to surge…”

“Did he—has he lost control? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Not yet, but he’s in a very dangerous state. At this rate, it won’t be long before he does lose control.”

Oh no. Irel sighed silently. Now was not the time to be leisurely searching for shoes.

“Take me to him. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Phaesus glanced briefly at Irel’s bare feet against the marble floor before turning to lead the way. Irel quickly followed behind the puppet, who moved surprisingly fast. As they reached the first floor, she saw the guest room closest to the main entrance.

“Irel, my lady!” Yan Louis and Phaesus turned to face her with troubled expressions as she approached. Halting in front of the door, Irel took a deep breath and asked,

“How is Varkan?”

“There are no visible injuries, but…”

“His energy is all tangled. He must be in a lot of pain.”

Being fellow Masakas, they could sense Varkan’s condition well. Their worried faces told her just how serious the situation was.

Irel tried to recall the last time she had performed a Sevring on Varkan. No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t remember. It had been far too long.

“He should’ve had regular Sevrings,” she muttered under her breath.

It was Phaesus who responded to her words.

“My lady… were you planning to perform the Sevring for him?”

“…Of course,” Irel responded, puzzled as to why Phaesus would even ask. She nodded, though, still confused.

After all, it wasn’t like she hadn’t offered. It was Varkan who refused the Sevring every time. He would either shake his head dismissively or slyly avoid it with excuses, saying they could do it later, slipping away like a crafty serpent.

‘And it’s not like he’d be penalized for it anymore.’

Thanks to her quest reward, she had gained the power to perform the Sevring without facing penalties, but she hadn’t had the chance to use it. Recently, she had been feeling increasingly powerless during battles and wanted to contribute in any way she could.

“So it was Lord Varkan who refused to receive it?” Phaesus asked, as if piecing it together.

“Yes. Do you have any idea why?” she asked.

Phaesus hesitated for a moment, as if he was about to say something but then stopped. He had already figured out the whole situation from their brief conversation.

How could he explain that Varkan cared about her so much that he even refused Sevring? That was something he couldn’t say. As a subordinate, it would be crossing a line, undermining his leader’s authority.

“Well, listen to this, Irel!” Yan Louis blurted out casually. “The boss has been stubbornly refusing to get Sevring!”

Phaesus, uncharacteristically flustered, turned to Yan, but it was too late. Yan Louis, having made up his mind, was already spilling everything.

“He pretends like it’s nothing, but he’s been struggling. And since he’s strong, not getting Sevring makes things worse for him.”

“Really? He’s been suffering like that and still refused?” Irel asked, surprised. She looked into Yan’s eyes, which were as clear and blue as a lake.

“Of course! It’s because he doesn’t want you to get hurt,” Yan said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Because of me?” Irel was even more astonished. The Varkan she knew was far from being a romantic. In fact, he was more like the type of bad guy who seduced women under the guise of romance, only to drain them dry.

‘Now that I think about it, he has been more concerned about my health lately.’

Oh my. Irel could only stand there, speechless, staring blankly at the door to the room where Varkan lay. This man, who she thought would never do such a thing, had shown her such a thoughtful consideration, and it left her deeply touched.

“Lady Irel?”

Jin called out from behind her, holding a tray with a cold towel.

“You’re here,” he said.

“Oh, yes.”

“Here, take this,” he said, handing her the towel and gently nudging her forward. Then, with a smooth gesture, he took hold of both Yan Louis and Phaesus by the arms and led them away.

“Alright, guys. There’s no point in hanging around here. Let’s give them some space.”

“W-wait, what? Eldest brother?” Phaesus stammered, clearly unaccustomed to Jin’s boldness.

“Hey, hey! Don’t pull so hard!” Yan protested, though he didn’t resist much.

The three men disappeared around the corner of the hallway, but not before they all paused in unison. Turning toward Irel, they each gave her a respectful bow.

“Please take care of him,” they said in unison.

Take care of him? And why were they so unnecessarily solemn?

Now left alone in front of the door, Irel felt a bit flustered. The cool touch of the towel in her hand snapped her back to reality.

‘Varkan.’

Right. Now wasn’t the time to be standing around. Behind that door was a man who had collapsed trying to protect her.

Now it was her turn to take care of him.