Chapter 244
Chapter 244: Where's My Wife?
Hearing those words, Gwen froze completely in place.
Just now, Heni… what had she said?
Gwen's expression went rigid. A chill surged up from the base of her spine, and the muscles of her face hardened like stone.
A sudden explosion rang out inside her mind—as though struck by lightning out of a clear sky—leaving it completely blank.
A moment later, Gwen came back to herself and stared at Heni before her.
Heni's cheeks were flushed a faint pink, like an apple ripened under sunlight. Her clear eyes gazed at Gwen with earnest sincerity:
"P-Professor Viktor is a very good person!"
"I think… if you truly care for him very much, Miss Gwen, then please—cherish him well!"
Gwen was at a loss for words. Her mouth fell open, and the hand resting on her longsword became equally bewildered and unsteady.
She looked at Heni and asked:
"Heni… why would you say something like that?"
"Because I… I've felt that feeling too."
"That feeling of forgetting someone important."
Heni pressed a hand to her chest, her eyes shimmering with the faintest trace of tears, looking utterly forlorn.
"I imagine… if you've experienced something like that yourself, it must have been very painful."
Gwen watched Heni's heart-wrenching expression, and something stirred inside her.
Like a fragile, beautiful ice crystal she hadn't the heart to shatter, she hesitated.
She stood there, tangled in conflict, unable to say a single word.
Did she like Viktor?
If speaking of the Viktor who stood before her now—Gwen could say, without question, that she did.
For someone so calm and capable, so gentle yet self-assured.
Gwen admired him deeply—to the point that admiration had become something closer to reverence.
Heni gazed at her and shook her head:
"No. That's not it."
"Miss Gwen, what I mean is… a different kind of liking."
It was an intensely sweet sensation—a longing to be beside one's beloved at every moment, a desperate wish to merge completely with that person.
A burning heart that could barely contain the overwhelming rush of feeling, like a spring that welled and welled until it burst through the surface in a ceaseless torrent of longing.
Gwen listened to Heni speak and crossed her arms over her chest, sinking into thought.
Did she feel something as exaggerated as what Heni was describing?
Naturally, not quite.
And yet… an undeniably fierce impulse did surge within her.
After the memories she had lost came flooding back, she had indeed felt an immediate, urgent need to find Viktor—to witness his existence with her own eyes.
Just as that thought surfaced, Gwen had a sudden flash of realization.
Wait—
She thought back to earlier, hurrying down the roads of Blairstone.
Hadn't that been exactly what she had felt then?
"Miss Gwen."
"If you truly like Professor Viktor, I hope… you'll be honest with him."
A beam of morning light cut through the clouds and filtered through the stained glass windows of the Clavena Manor, casting fractured patterns of color across Heni's figure.
It seemed to draw out a trace of exhaustion from her, letting it drift and settle over the silver-white of Gwen's armor.
The depths of Heni's eyes—clear as still water—shimmered with a quiet, gentle light, though tinged with sorrow as she looked at Gwen:
"I don't want to watch the Professor… be forgotten again by someone important to him."
Gwen stood motionless, still as a carved figure, and for a long moment offered no reply.
Heni continued:
"From here, you'll need to go on your own. He's in the back garden—you'll find the Professor on the grasslands not far from here."
Gwen gave an instinctive nod, her heart like a shop window thrown suddenly open, filled with a tangle of emotions she couldn't begin to name.
All she could do was take a step forward, following Heni's guidance, moving toward the hazy light ahead.
Clang, clang, clang.
The sound of Gwen's armor striking the wooden floorboards echoed through the silent manor—clear and crisp with each step.
The sound faded quickly, and Gwen's white figure walked out into the morning light, leaving the manor behind.
Heni remained where she stood, watching Gwen's resolute silhouette until it disappeared. She bit her lip gently.
A question rose unbidden in her heart:
"Mr. Crocodile… did I do the right thing?"
A low, slightly hoarse voice stayed silent for a moment before speaking:
"As a demon, I have to say—you're not very qualified."
Heni was not surprised by the response from the voice within her.
After all, it was the voice of the Demon of Wrath.
Demons were selfish by nature. But Heni was different.
She would not disregard others entirely for her own gain.
Naturally, the demon could not accept behavior like hers.
Inside Heni's heart, Laiton snapped its mouth shut with a click and rolled over.
Its nostrils huffed twin jets of air—faintly exasperated—as its puffed-up form deflated like a punctured balloon.
Even so, it began to notice something rather entertaining unfolding.
Once Gwen had fully departed, the sharp bang of a closing door startled Heni out of her daze.
She gradually came back to herself, lifted her head, and stared blankly at the stained-glass windows of the Clavena Manor, at a complete loss.
It struck her all at once—this place no longer had room for her.
A current of icy water rose from somewhere unknown and passed straight through her heart.
A wave of grievance surged in and seized her. In a corner where no one was watching, the corners of Heni's eyes grew damp.
She still couldn't do it.
Sacrifice another's happiness to fulfill her own desires.
For Heni, that was still too difficult.
Or rather—entirely impossible.
Pain pierced her like a needle through her burning heart, and the cold seeped in through every gap.
That scorching, abundant warmth of feeling—even wrapped within a heart riddled with wounds—had nowhere to go.
Heni could only curl into the corner and endure in silence, feeling the violent ache of ice and heat intertwined, dousing the fire of longing within her again and again.
Trying, in this way, to let the warmth of her own skin soothe her wounds.
This was what Heni had to do—to give up the person she loved.
She buried her face between her knees and wept.
The manor was utterly silent, leaving only the faint sound of quiet sobbing drifting through the empty halls.
***
Gwen quickened her pace, running across the grasslands.
After hearing Heni's words, her heart had never burned with such intensity.
She wanted to find Viktor immediately. She wanted to know right now…
His feelings.
At last, the sound of the wind gradually brushed past Gwen's ears and brought her to a halt.
She saw it—that enormous, resplendent silver-white divine tree, its silver branches glimmering with a light like distant stars.
In the gentle breeze, the branches swayed softly.
Gwen raised her head and looked ahead.
That figure in a black coat was standing beneath the divine tree.
Both hands tucked into his pockets, the familiar Crow perched upon his shoulder.
The distance between them was not far—and yet it felt utterly beyond her reach.
She reached out a hand, wanting to call out his name.
"Vik—"
The sound caught in her throat and refused, no matter what, to come out.
She had spent the entire night running from the Royal Capital to Blairstone.
Only to confirm whether Viktor still existed.
And now, she had indeed seen Viktor.
Gwen could breathe easy.
But then—why was it that now, of all times—
She felt it—the sensation rising from her heart, pounding and pounding.
Gwen had never been this nervous in her life.
The experiences of her childhood had all but ensured she would never know feelings like this. And yet—this quiet, buried part of her had been awakened. Awakened because of Viktor.
Because of this man she had once hated most of all?
Like?
Having left Heni behind, in this moment, Gwen finally found the stillness to sit with this thought.
She wanted to reach out to him.
She wanted to get closer to him.
So much—so very much—she wanted to see him every single day.
Was this what it meant to like someone?
But tangled within that joy was something far more pervasive: bewilderment and helplessness.
Like a child who had never learned to swim, testing every stone with careful feet before crossing the river.
Ahead of her—nothing but ignorance and uncertainty.
The hand Gwen had reached out slowly fell back to her side.
No…
She was a Knight.
Just as she had done when she stood before the Emperor in a moment of confusion.
What His Majesty had once said to her came back now.
"As a Knight—never, ever doubt yourself."
Like clouds parting to reveal the sun, Gwen steeled her resolve.
Whatever lay ahead—she would still…
Make every effort to draw closer to the person standing before her.
She reached out her hand once more and called out.
"Viktor! I—"
Suddenly, she choked off her own voice.
As though something had forcibly severed it.
Gwen could not say another word.
A black ink rose from within, climbing through her consciousness straight into her mind.
She saw it clearly.
In the sea of consciousness within her mind, she could see it—unmistakably.
The golden scale that had always been there.
Smeared with a streak of pitch-black filth.
As though something had tainted it.
Following that darkness, as if falling under some kind of influence—
Gwen's vision went black, and she lost the last of her consciousness.
In the final instant before she collapsed to the ground, she seemed to see—
A figure in a black coat, looking at her, with eyes that were calm yet carried a faint warmth.
And then, at last, she closed her eyes.
……
"As expected."
"This was inevitable."
"How could he so easily relinquish such a perfect divine vessel?"
"The plan has changed, Weija."
"I intend to—"
"Kill all of them."