Your Majesty, I’m Not that Man - Chapter 3: Your Majesty, Why Are You Doing This? (7)

The village was close enough to the capital to benefit from decent security, and monsters in the area were hunted regularly, making their appearances rare.

This village had once thrived but had fallen into decline after a new road diverted traffic elsewhere. For Hans, it was the perfect location—quiet and discreet.

Exiting the inn, Hans walked along a northeastern path that led out of the village. His destination was an abandoned old temple on the outskirts. The temple had been closed long ago after a monster attack. The villagers rarely went near it, as rumors of ghosts persisted due to the many who had died there.

“Ghosts, huh?” Hans snorted at the thought. He wasn’t afraid of spirits that couldn’t harm the living. What truly scared him were people—people capable of far more wickedness than any ghost.

As he climbed the barren hill leading to the temple, Hans glanced over his shoulder. A flicker of movement near a tree caught his eye, but it vanished when he stared more intently.

“Was that… something?”

Perhaps his thoughts of ghosts had planted seeds of unease. Shaking his head, Hans quickened his pace. He had to retrieve the money and submit the commission as soon as possible. The longer Albert stayed away, the harder it would be to secure his return.

The successor’s position was not something Hans could let slip away. Albert had to reclaim it, no matter what.

Finally reaching the desolate, gray building, Hans stepped inside. It had once been a beautiful ivory temple but had long since succumbed to neglect and grime, leaving it a shadow of its former self.

Hans entered the abandoned temple and headed for the most damaged section, where the stone floor had cracked and exposed the dirt beneath. Reaching his destination, he cautiously glanced around to ensure no one had followed him. Then, he squeezed through a large gap in the broken floor. His lean build, unlike the bulky frames of mercenaries, allowed him to slip through the opening.

“It should be around here…”

He hadn’t buried the shovel deeply. Carrying it back and forth would have been akin to advertising that something valuable was hidden there. So, the shovel itself had been buried alongside the treasure, just beneath the surface.

The sheltered interior of the temple kept rainwater from seeping into the soil, so he hadn’t worried about water damage. No one would suspect there was a buried shovel hidden beneath the ground.

“Still intact,” Hans muttered.

Though buried for some time, the shovel had only minor signs of corrosion. Taking it in hand, Hans began to dig. He had done this before and moved with practiced efficiency.

After digging to about knee depth, his efforts revealed a metal box. Relief washed over him. This was it—his lifeline, along with Albert’s. If everything fell apart and he had to flee, this box would provide his escape route.

Hans opened the box, confirming its contents were just as he remembered. Inside were jewels and gold coins. He carefully counted what he needed for his current task, withdrawing enough to hire top-tier mercenaries and ensuring he kept a reserve for emergencies.

Closing the lid, Hans placed the box back into its hiding spot. After packing down the soil and replacing the disturbed stones, he dusted off his clothes.

From his bag, he retrieved a fresh set of clothes identical to the ones he wore. After changing into the clean garments, he packed the dirtied clothes and the extracted money into his bag.

“Albert, I don’t know what foolish thoughts drove you to this decision… but it’s time to come back,” Hans thought, his mind filled with the image of his only son.

Feeling satisfied with his preparations, Hans exited the derelict temple.

What Hans didn’t know was that someone had been following him—and they would soon examine the spot where he had been digging.

＊ ＊ ＊

When Lavinia came to her senses, she realized that Cassion was no longer by her side. She felt relieved but couldn’t deny the faint tinge of emptiness left in his absence.

“No, no! Snap out of it!”

She scolded herself inwardly. Getting attached to the wrong man could doom her to a lifetime of unhappiness.

“This time around, I just want to live a peaceful life. I don’t need to be the happiest person in the world—just finding my own small happiness would be enough.”

Her previous life had been exhausting and filled with hardship. This life, too, had felt tiring in its own way. Lavinia longed for a life that was freer, more comfortable, and less burdened by expectations.

Before recovering her past-life memories, she had coveted the position of heir to the duchy. She had been the one running the internal and external affairs of the estate, so it had felt natural that she should inherit it.

But after regaining her memories, she wondered what the point of it all was.

“Power is nothing but a burden. To wield it properly, you need to shoulder endless responsibilities and an overwhelming amount of work…”

Had Maxim chosen her as his successor, she would have gladly fulfilled that duty. But Maxim had abandoned her long ago. He had been willing to hand the duchy to Albert, a commoner, with no regard for how that decision would ruin her life.

Maxim’s choices had been driven not by the future of the duchy but by his own selfish desires, treating Lavinia like a pawn on a chessboard. Realizing this had left her disillusioned with everything.

The people she cherished most had also left. Maggie, her beloved nanny, had returned to her hometown. The loyal maids who had stood by her side were mostly sent back to their own families or found positions with respectable households.

Only Robert, the butler, remained—and while Lavinia still worried about him, she had no intention of staying by Cassion’s side to protect him. If Cassion ever decided to kill her, she thought, it would be too bitter a fate to accept.

“It’s fine. It’s almost over now.”

She had entered the imperial palace. She had shared Cassion’s bed. The experience had been far better than she had anticipated—and she was shocked at his unexpected kindness—but now all she had to do was wait for his interest to fade.

The hardest part was over.

And yet… her heart felt strangely cold.

“I just want to leave this place.”

This was never a place she had planned to stay. Any effort she invested here would be fruitless in the long run. Lavinia yearned to escape, to start anew somewhere else where she could finally settle down. What frightened her most was the thought of waiting too long for that new chapter to begin.

She glanced at the spot where Cassion had been, then wrapped herself tightly in the blanket and closed her eyes. Having taken a long nap earlier in the day because of Cassion’s visit, Lavinia knew this would likely be a sleepless, drawn-out night.

＊ ＊ ＊

Cassion furrowed his brow, a look of unease etched across his face, as he turned the pages of his book. Despite the late hour, the Emperor couldn’t bring himself to rest. A servant, standing cautiously nearby, glanced at him nervously before asking tentatively,

“Shall I summon the Lady?”

Cassion’s movements came to an abrupt halt, but he didn’t look back at the servant. Relieved by his lack of reaction, the servant relaxed slightly.

“…No, that won’t be necessary,” Cassion replied coldly, snapping the book shut. He ordered the servants to leave him, stating that he wished to be alone. Silently, they exited the room without a sound, leaving Cassion to his solitude.

As soon as he was left alone, an overwhelming longing washed over him.

He wanted to see her. Desperately, he wanted to know what expression Lavinia wore in the room he had left.

But the moment he realized his feelings, a new fear crept in.

Cassion had never loved anything or anyone in his life. There was a time when he thought he loved power and his throne, but even that had eventually grown stale.

He was now the sole Anais—a title signifying absolute authority in the empire, with no challengers remaining. Although rebellions had flared up multiple times, Cassion had crushed them effortlessly every time.

Before awakening as a transcendent being, his life had been a nightmare. But after his awakening, life had become far too easy. Everything had.

If he hadn’t become a transcendent, his life would have remained hellish. But now, he spent his days making the lives of those who had tormented him as miserable as his once had been.

Still, even vengeance had its limits. The blood-soaked earth began to regain its natural colors, and those who opposed him dwindled in number. Over time, Cassion found himself succumbing to a crushing sense of ennui.

He wasn’t cruel enough to engage in tyranny for no reason. Though he had never lived as a commoner, he had known what it was like to be at the lowest rung of society. Having witnessed the corruption and rot of the nobility, he couldn’t stand by or contribute to it.

His keen intelligence had made him an extraordinary ruler. Through his wise governance, the empire flourished. The aristocrats and royalty he had purged were leeches sucking the life out of the empire, and he had used their corruption as an excuse to eradicate them.

The remaining nobles bowed their heads before him, kneeling to the empire’s supreme ruler.

Yet there was no joy in it for him.

He had simply claimed what was his by right as the strongest Anais. Even if his father, the former Emperor, had still been alive, he wouldn’t have been able to defy Cassion’s transcendent power. In the end, the throne had always been his.

Perhaps that’s why the allure of power had never intoxicated him. He was too brilliant to be blinded by his position. And that’s when he realized that he had never truly loved or felt joy for anything.

It was as though he had been cursed.

Perhaps this was why he had once sought solace in sex—a primal pleasure. He had dabbled in violence and bloodshed, but they never satisfied him. Death was a filthy thing, leaving behind only blood and corpses, and its stench filled him with disgust.

But then, for the first time, something made his heart race.

It was painfully obvious, yet so foreign that he hadn’t recognized it at first. And when he finally did, fear overtook him.

She didn’t just stir his heart—it wasn’t a mere metaphor. Lavinia was already shaking him to his core.

Cassion may have been the Emperor of Adalaxas, but Lavinia had become his emperor in turn. For a man who had always been in control, she was the first being he wanted to bow before.

She had stolen his heart, and he could see clearly that she would wield it recklessly, like a tyrant.

He wished he could take it back, even belatedly—but he didn’t know how.