To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 151

The heat of the western frontier lingered even as the hot season passed, leaving the days still scorching. Just a brief walk could drain your energy completely.

Irel had been dozing on a long sofa on the balcony when she awoke to a familiar, gentle touch lifting her head and placing it on someone’s lap.

“Varkan?” she murmured, her senses more attuned to his scent than anything else. His rich, deep fragrance had a way of making her inhale unconsciously, as if it drew her in.

“Did I wake you?” Varkan asked with a soft chuckle. Though the answer was obvious, Irel waved her hand lazily, indicating that she wasn’t really bothered. She wanted to keep sleeping.

“Sleep as long as you like,” Varkan whispered, his hand brushing lightly through her hair. Then, unexpectedly, he began to massage her neck with firm, gentle pressure.

Even half-asleep, Irel couldn’t help but let out a satisfied sigh. His large, warm hands expertly worked over her shoulders and neck, easing the tension she hadn’t realized was there. His touch was careful and soothing, as if he were handling a delicate flower, kneading out knots and slowly running his fingers up and down her back to stimulate blood flow.

Her body began to feel heavy with relaxation, the stress melting away. And his scent—how could something smell so intoxicating? Without thinking, she turned over and nuzzled her cheek into his lap. His low, amused chuckle sent a shiver through her.

“Why are you so good at this…?” she asked, half-asleep.

“I’m even better at night,” he whispered, his tone dripping with temptation. Varkan took her hand and placed it against his chest, slowly guiding her fingers down the smooth fabric of his shirt to feel the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen beneath.

This man… doesn’t let his guard down for even a second. The sensation woke her up completely, and Irel reluctantly fluttered her eyes open.

“It’s a tempting offer, but not in the middle of the day. Show me later, after sunset,” she teased, flashing a playful smile.

Varkan laughed out loud, his eyes sparkling. “As you wish, my love.”

She felt the light brush of his lips against her fingertips, and it was enough to make her heart flutter. For a moment, she wondered why her mouth tasted so sweet, as if she had been eating chocolate in her sleep.

Taking a deep breath, Irel opened her eyes fully and looked up at him. It was time to turn the conversation back to business.

“Varkan, you were right. There’s something off about everything happening here in the west,” she began, shifting her tone to something more serious.

“Oh? Have you found something?” Varkan’s playful demeanor shifted as well, his focus sharpening.

“I talked to Joshua earlier, and he told me more about Masaka Seraphine’s death. But there’s something strange about the whole situation,” Irel explained as she relayed the information she had learned. Varkan listened quietly, brushing aside the stray strands of her hair.

“And Jin—he managed to gather some suspicious details about the barbarians as well,” she added. Despite Jin’s grumbling, he had done an excellent job. His amiable personality, good looks, and shamelessness had made him the perfect informant, even if he would deny it until his dying breath.

“According to people in the fortress, the barbarians have been frequently crossing the border for months. But after Ruth Varel died, it’s been eerily quiet. Almost like they’ve disappeared. It’s strange, isn’t it?” Irel mused.

Ruth had been dead for less than three weeks, so they still needed to monitor the situation. But the sudden lull was suspicious.

“What if the barbarians’ true target wasn’t Ruth Varel at all?” Irel muttered, deep in thought. If that were the case, it made sense that Yan Louis couldn’t find anything during his scouting missions. The barbarians may have already pulled back, having accomplished their goal.

“Funny you mention that,” Varkan said, grinning. He admired how sharp Irel was—how she focused on uncovering secrets rather than indulging in romance with her charming childhood friend, Joshua. How could any woman be more captivating than this? Even if she crushed his heart, Varkan thought, the pain itself would be divine.

“What’s the funny part? Tell me what you found,” Irel said, absentmindedly running her hand along his arm. The contact stirred warmth in both of them as Varkan spoke.

“It’s about Ruth Varel’s political leanings. His father, Marquis Tarik, is a staunch royalist, loyal to the crown. But Ruth… well, he wasn’t quite the same.”

“Hmm?” Irel raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Ruth Varel was aligned with the reformists. Growing up witnessing the suffering of his people under constant Kitan attacks, he developed a strong resentment towards the royal system. He couldn’t stand how only a select few were protected, while the rest were left to fend for themselves,” Varkan explained.

Irel nodded thoughtfully, piecing together Ruth’s character. He sounded like a leader driven by a sense of justice, especially for those who lived on the perilous frontier. It made sense for a young, passionate leader to question the status quo.

“What was his stance on the barbarians?” Irel asked, wondering if Ruth’s death was linked to a harsh policy against them. Maybe the barbarians saw him as a threat and eliminated him.

Varkan shook his head. “Ruth was sympathetic towards the barbarians. He fortified the borders but occasionally spoke out in favor of more lenient treatment of them.”

That raised even more questions in Irel’s mind. If Ruth was inclined to help the barbarians, why would they kill him? His leadership could have led to more favorable policies for them, so why go after someone who could have been an ally?

“The soldiers under him weren’t too pleased with his sympathy, either,” Varkan added, his tone thoughtful.

None of this makes sense, Irel thought, her brow furrowing deeper. The pieces didn’t fit. If Ruth Varel had lived, he likely would have worked towards policies beneficial to the barbarians. So, why did they kill him?

“This is strange, isn’t it?” Irel murmured aloud.

“It is,” Varkan agreed, his voice dropping.

“And now our little white fly has finally brought something back. You’ll be surprised when you hear it,” Varkan teased, his eyes gleaming.

“White fly? You don’t mean Yan Louis, do you?” Irel asked, almost feeling sorry for Yan, who seemed to be the perpetual butt of Varkan’s jokes. Varkan responded with a bright, mischievous smile, confirming her suspicion.

Though she couldn’t help but feel bad for Yan, Irel focused on the conversation. “Did he finally find the barbarians’ hideout?”

“No. But he found something even more interesting.”

Irel leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Come on, tell me! Don’t leave me hanging.”

Varkan took his time, clearly enjoying her anticipation before he finally spoke. “Do you remember Masaka Drakal? The one we encountered in the cave not long ago?”

Irel frowned, recalling the battle. Drakal was the Masaka who manipulated light, despite looking like he belonged to the shadows. That encounter had been tough, especially since Jin’s illusionary abilities were rendered useless.

As Irel remembered that struggle, her eyes met Varkan’s. His expression had grown more serious, and he seemed to be watching her closely, gauging her reaction.

Why does he look like that? she wondered. And then it hit her. Varkan was worried that she might have been traumatized by what had happened in the cave.

The thought warmed her heart. The same man who constantly plotted and schemed to harm others was cautious and considerate when it came to her.

This man really is something special.

A fond smile tugged at her lips as she gazed at him, thinking once again how deeply she had fallen for him.

Irel squeezed Varkan’s arm tighter, finding comfort in the warmth of his touch. With a brighter tone, she pressed him for answers.

“I’m fine, really. Now, tell me—what about Masaka Drakal?”

Varkan seemed satisfied that she was handling it well. He didn’t hesitate any more and spoke plainly.

“Yan Louis found him in the middle of the desert.”

More precisely, Yan had detected Drakal’s presence, but to Varkan, that distinction didn’t matter much.

“What? Why would Drakal be in the desert… Wait,” Irel paused, her thoughts racing.

Something clicked in her mind—Yan’s earlier words.

‘They told me to scout for the barbarians, but I can’t find them. Maybe it’s the desert or the light… I think I’m seeing mirages.’

Why hadn’t I realized it then? Mirages were a common phenomenon in the desert, caused by light bending through unstable layers of air.

Light.

Yes. It might be a natural phenomenon, but if Drakal, who controlled light, was involved, he could easily manipulate it.

“He’s hiding something there, isn’t he?” Irel guessed, her mind racing. Drakal must have been creating mirages to conceal something important in the desert. That’s why Yan Louis hadn’t been able to find the barbarians—they were hidden behind an illusion.

Her heart began to race. Whatever was concealed behind those mirages didn’t feel like something pleasant or reassuring. In fact, it felt like the opposite—a dark, unsettling secret that could spell trouble.

“You’re right,” Varkan confirmed. “Yan couldn’t pinpoint the exact location, but he did find this.”

Varkan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object.

Irel’s eyes widened in shock the moment she saw it.

“This is…”

It was unmistakable. Her mind reeled with disbelief at what she was seeing.