Chapter 4
It was unmistakable. The veins, which should have been completely ruined, had gained a bit of vitality. Though Charlotte’s dantian was still hardened, an aura was circulating within her body from an external source.
Count Keitel Ruslan. It was clearly because of that sudden kiss. In that fleeting moment when their lips touched, he had checked her meridians and transferred his aura to her.
Why would he do that after just meeting today?
However, those questions could wait.
It was a rare opportunity. Charlotte carefully controlled her body to prevent the aura from dissipating.
She had drafted countless escape plans for a day like this. The timing was just right; all she needed to do was carry it out.
Charlotte endured until evening. Even when the warden, irritable from appeasing the count, slapped her for no reason, she stayed quiet and bore it.
“Well, look at you. Still can’t get yourself together, huh? You really don’t know your place, do you? Keep mouthing off and resisting, and I won’t go easy on you. Got it?”
At the warden’s glance, a new recruit, who had just returned from fetching supplies, hesitated before placing a loaf of bread on the ground. She mouthed a silent apology.
Charlotte picked up the bread and ate in silence. To her surprise, it was soft against her tongue, with no sawdust mixed in—a clean loaf.
But she didn’t make the foolish mistake of looking up at the new recruit.
This small kindness might come back to her in unexpected ways. In time, the recruit would naturally come to understand it, too.
Right about now.
“One second too slow! Can’t even eat one piece quickly enough?!”
Just as the warden swung his fist, Charlotte grabbed his forearm, took a deep breath, and tightened her grip slowly. The warden, not even realizing what was happening, screamed at the intense pain.
“What the— Are you insane?! Aaahh!”
“You think? After staring at your ugly face for five years, staying sane was hardly an option.”
The aura Ruslan had given her simmered inside her, and her shining hand squeezed the warden’s arm. There was a loud cracking sound as his joint popped, followed by his wailing.
Memories of the abuse she’d endured flashed before her, and she chuckled.
“Can’t you scream in a slightly more appealing way? You sound like a pig getting slaughtered, dressed as one too.”
Charlotte slowly stood up, supporting her lifeless legs with the aura. It was inconvenient compared to when she had full use of her body, but crawling was out of the question.
As she moved forward, the chains embedded deep within the rock pulled free. With the sound of splitting stone, the weight that had bound her limbs lightened.
The new recruit, witnessing Charlotte’s impossible strength, collapsed to her knees. The warden, writhing on the ground, desperately reached out.
“W-Where do you think you’re going? How—how is this even possible?!”
Thud!
The chain attached to her arm crashed down on the warden.
“I don’t have time to waste on someone like you.”
With the noise silenced, she felt considerably better.
She swung the chain several more times at the iron bars ahead of her, smashing through the warped grid. As soon as she stepped into the corridor, alarm bells began to ring.
“Escape! It’s the villainess from Cell 707!”
Guards rushed down the narrow passage, the same ones who’d cursed her to die, poked, and prodded her whenever they got the chance.
Charlotte let out a smirk. She forced aura into her numb legs and leapt.
By the time she’d cleared the winding tunnels and reached the exit below, the chains trailing from her had painted a crimson path.
She casually threw the guard’s head she’d been clutching in her hand to the side. She noticed a broken pulley someone had already tampered with.
As she gauged the height of the vertical shaft above, a quivering voice echoed from the other side of the tunnel.
“If… If you leave… you shouldn’t…!”
It was the new recruit, the only one in this place with unbroken limbs. She had barely managed to chase after Charlotte, stumbling over the corpses piled like mountains.
But even she, trembling, quickly collapsed, retching at the gruesome scene.
Charlotte left her with one remark.
“Thanks for the bread. Find a new job that suits you better.”
With that, she leapt into the tunnel.
She clutched the icy cliff face and pulled herself up with all her might. She climbed desperately to keep from slipping.
I’m getting out. The villainess, Charlotte Moden, is finally escaping this frozen prison!
At last, after an excruciating climb, she grasped the final rock. Collapsing onto the ground outside, she tore off her shackles, letting the bitter cold air cleanse her lungs.
It was winter outside. A snowstorm typical of the northern mountains raged. Even the sloped mountain path was blanketed white, bright despite the night.
The sight overwhelmed her senses after so long. As dizziness crept over her, she collapsed.
The aura inside her had dispersed. Her skin, which had forgotten the seasons, felt the chill seep in. The body that had momentarily recovered reverted to its crippled state.
Gritting her teeth, she crawled with her two functioning arms, dragging her legs along. She spat out the snow that kept entering her mouth.
“I won’t die! I crawled all the way here! Not until I repay those bastards!”
Just as she yelled, struggling up the slope, she met him again.
The man descended from a small carriage. His fur-lined coat was pulled up into a hood, casting him in a shadow like an ominous black figure.
“I wonder… Is this how my foster mother felt when she found my real mother? Both are gone, so I can’t ask.”
He muttered this cryptic statement, approaching her.
A white snowfield. A black coat. His glacially beautiful face shone, and his red eyes burned like a dream in candlelight.
The man’s lips twisted into a smirk, his crescent-moon smile directed at Charlotte.
“I half-expected you to come charging to kill me the moment you escaped. But it seems that’s too much in your current state.”
Charlotte barely managed a retort.
“You. Ruslan von Keitel, Count… What are you plotting? Why did you help me?”
Ruslan knelt down, just as he had when their eyes first met. He reached out and warmed her frozen cheek.
“I have a request.”
He didn’t speak gently, like Albert. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone that Charlotte instinctively sensed was a warning.
Involving herself with this man would be dangerous.
“Would you kill the Emperor?”
And at the same time—impossibly tempting.
Charlotte was loaded into the carriage and whisked off somewhere.
There was no choice. Whether she agreed or not, it was better to be wrapped in warm blankets than to freeze on the snow-covered mountain.
As the aura that had briefly revived her body faded, pain began to radiate throughout her. Even without counting her paralyzed legs, Charlotte’s health was poor. Years of abuse and meager meals had left her severely weakened.
Conveniently, a flask of milk porridge was ready in the carriage. The warm food eased her body, but the taste of hunger only made her thoughts clearer.
She had thought escaping the prison would be enough to make anything possible. But reality was harsher than sheer will.
Could she really seek revenge, with a body unable to properly wield aura or even walk?
“Are you still alive? I’d be inconvenienced if you died along the way.”
Ruslan’s voice came from a small window.
A nobleman driving a carriage without an attendant. Odd, but she had a guess. He likely wanted to transport her to a place only he knew of, in secret.
“Alive.”
“That’s a relief. You weren’t saying anything.”
“I was just contemplating how you’re trying to use the nation’s most notorious villainess for treason.”
Ruslan, adopted son of Grand Duke Licht, Count Keitel.
How had a mere regional noble come to this point, plotting to kill the Emperor? She had no idea how the world had changed in the five years since her imprisonment.
“I’ll explain everything once we arrive.”
Ruslan replied without a hint of a smile.
She wondered where he was taking her, but she didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. The warmth of the blanket and the milk porridge lured her into a doze.
Eventually, she curled up in the small carriage and fell asleep. The ride was bumpy, but compared to the prison, it was paradise.
Now that I think about it… this carriage had a large coffin-like box strapped to it…
As she drifted, clueless to her future, a voice broke through her dreams.
“We’re here. Wake up.”
Charlotte’s eyes shot open.
It was bright outside. Morning had come, and she’d slept through the night. She’d thought he would take her to some hidden cabin in a valley, but it was a completely different place.
It was a ruin.
On the snow-covered field stood a broken-down building. Pillars were half-standing, statues beheaded. Not even animals seemed to linger, the silence almost haunting.
The carriage stopped in an enclosed space surrounded by outer walls. Charlotte, lowered into the ruin, looked around.
She was in the middle of a vast, polished stone floor. The original engraved designs on the floor were faintly visible through the dust. Had the building been intact, it would have been a perfect venue for a ballroom or a formal ceremony.
“Where is this…?”
“The Royal Palace of Iphenia.”
At the unexpected foreign name, Charlotte jolted.
Iphenia, a small kingdom in the north. Rumor had it they researched their unique aura technique, known as “magic.”
The nation had been destroyed over twenty years ago. Charlotte had been a child at the time, and stories of the northern wars felt as distant as ancient myths.
Suddenly, things began to click. She looked up at Ruslan.
“Are you saying…?”
“A partner in an alliance shouldn’t hide their cards.”
Ruslan replied coolly.
“Yes, my real name is Ruslanid Zakharievich Serce-Iphenia. The last descendant of the fallen royal family, born from the queen’s final attempt.”
He pulled back his hood. Black hair fell past his ears. But when he raised his hand, briefly revealing his aura, something shocking occurred.
His dark hair and red eyes began to lose color, as if the pigment was being drained. Silver hair, like threads spun from moonlight, and eyes as blue as a frozen lake appeared.
Charlotte, seasoned as she was, had never seen such a combination, and she stared up at him in astonishment.
“Is this… magic?”
Ruslan smiled with his now completely transformed appearance.
“A relic from my mother and a legacy of my homeland. Surely you know why Iphenia was destroyed?”
Of course, she did. Every citizen of the Empire knew.
The late Emperor lived unnaturally long. His obsession with the power he built persisted throughout his life. In his later years, he was seduced by the idea of eternal youth.
There was a rumor that Iphenia’s royal family possessed a magic capable of granting immortality.
The exact trigger of the war was unclear—whether it was due to the Emperor’s delusion or the intent to finally crush the last free northern state didn’t matter.
What mattered was that Iphenia was obliterated by the Empire’s onslaught, with their “magic” powerless to defend them.
“In the end, the former Emperor died of old age, so everyone dismissed immortality as a myth.”
Charlotte remembered his death. He had passed at over ninety. It was a moment Albert had eagerly awaited, and Charlotte had prayed for his death, too.
“Everyone was wrong. The magic of immortality is real.”
“What are you saying…? What is your goal? To restore your nation? To claim the Emperor’s throne?”
“Is that the most logical conclusion?”
Ruslan gave a bitter smile, running his hand through his hair. It darkened again, his eyes turning red.
“Not patriotism. If anything, it’s loyalty. I wish to repay the kindness shown to me by Grand Duke Licht, my foster father.”
Charlotte recalled hearing of the Grand Duke’s sudden death. Even she had been shocked, wondering if it was “already his time.”
“…Did Albert kill him?”
“You catch on quickly. If you help me, I will also help you.”
He pulled the coffin-like box from the carriage and opened it. Inside lay a young girl, eyes closed as if in slumber.
When Charlotte saw her face, she involuntarily held her breath. The girl looked no older than twenty. With long blonde hair and fair skin, she was an uncommon beauty.
“This girl’s body, along with the magic of immortality, will allow you to be reborn.”
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