Chapter 64

Chapter 64
## Chapter 64
### Explode!

As the giant skeleton’s fist struck the wall, debris went flying and the structure began to collapse.

In the midst of the chaos, Valerian, with his crimson eyes glowing, charged at Dereck sword in hand.

The concentration required to wield four-star necromantic magic while brandishing a sword was staggering. He had already surpassed his limits. His mind, pushed to the edge, had lost all reason.

If Dereck stood in his way, he would simply eliminate him. That simple reasoning of cause and effect filled his mind.

The fall from grace of a noble family, crumbling beyond repair, was a pitiful sight, and Dereck felt a flicker of compassion for him.

But wrong was wrong. Dereck was someone who fiercely guarded himself against any hesitation born of compassion.

**Snap!**

Valerian had already reached his limit.

He had bewitched the servants of the manor, controlled numerous monstrous corpses, and even commanded a giant skeleton.

No matter how tightly he gripped Rozin’s staff, managing magic of this magnitude simultaneously was pushing him to the brink.

**Clang!**

Dereck moved with the agility of a wild animal and slipped into Valerian’s space. The dagger he held with a reverse grip pierced through the opening in Valerian’s armor at the wrist. The sudden pain almost made him drop the staff, but Valerian grit his teeth and endured the agony.

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**Thump!**

He kicked Dereck to create distance and gave orders to the giant skeleton once more.

The raw force of every blow from that skeleton was something no human body could withstand. Blocking it was impossible, and parrying it was out of the question. It was an attack that had to be avoided at all costs.

Valerian knew this well, and just as he attempted to invoke more magic to pressure Dereck, a familiar voice called out his name.

“Valerian, brother…!”

At the sound of his name, Valerian’s eyes trembled. For an instant, his body faltered and shuddered completely. Dereck did not waste the opportunity and kicked him in the chest.

**Crash! Bang!**

Valerian rolled across the ground and fell into the garden’s flowerbed.

Under the torrential rain, Valerian forced himself to stand and looked toward Aiselin. He had been avoiding her gaze, but now was the time to face her.

The father he respected so much, he had stabbed with his own hands, and the guilt of parricide had driven him to madness.

Even as he struggled to get up, seeking to atone for his sins, Valerian had to face the truth.

The family he loved so much was not just his father. Beyond the shattered wall, the girl trembling beside Diella’s bed was also part of that beloved family.

“…Aiselin.”

At last, the whispers of madness clouding his mind began to fade, and Valerian responded with a trembling voice.

***

As his blurred vision cleared, life returned to Valerian’s eyes.

It was at that moment that he saw Aiselin, soaked and sitting on the ground.

**Whish!**

Under the rain, he looked at himself. His armor was drenched in blood.

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He turned his head slightly to behold the manor, completely destroyed, with numerous wounded servants scattered across the floor. In one hand he held a sharp longsword, and in the other, the necromancer’s staff that had clouded his judgment.

“…”

The acts committed in his madness were shocking. The one responsible for all this carnage was none other than himself.

Valerian looked at Dereck with trembling eyes. Dereck held his gaze, frowning.

Lucidity was returning to Valerian’s eyes. Seeing Aiselin trembling behind Dereck, Valerian dropped his sword and fell to his knees.

**Thump!**

The gigantic skeleton that had breached the wall stopped moving.

Standing under the rain, it looked like a gigantic statue. Despite the falling droplets, it showed no intention of advancing.

“Ah… Ugh…!”

Raindrops slid down Valerian’s hair and hit the ground, vanishing upon contact.

Valerian silently contemplated his trembling hand resting on the ground. Diella’s room was filled with scattered watercolors.

Among them were portraits of Dereck. A masterpiece that his beloved younger sister had created with devotion, intending to gift it to her most admired teacher.

It seemed like only yesterday when she was being praised for effortlessly correcting any flawed stroke and finishing the painting.

By the time he regained consciousness, the ball had already become a disaster. And the family was practically ruined.

Who was responsible for all of this? No one but Valerian. He lifted his trembling head and spoke with a slurred voice.

“Kill me.”

His gaze turned toward where Aiselin lay slumped. Aiselin shuddered once more, catching her breath. Valerian spoke with total sincerity.

“B-Brother Valerian…”

“Before outsiders intervene… you must put an end to it.”

Valerian already understood. He should not be allowed to live.

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In order for House Duplain to preserve even a vestige of its legacy, an external justification was needed to prove they had expelled their wayward eldest son.

Valerian’s erratic actions had to be considered solely his own, and a symbolic event had to demonstrate that they did not reflect the family’s will.

If the mages in the main hall began to regain consciousness, or if neighboring territories responded, no one could predict how events would unfold.

Thus, this had to be resolved within the Duplain family. The sword was now in Aiselin’s hands.

**Thump!**

Valerian stripped off his torso armor. His slender figure, dressed in noble clothes soaked with rain and sweat, clung to his body.

Still kneeling, Valerian threw the sword toward Aiselin. It rolled across the ground, making several metallic clangs.

Dereck stepped on the blade before it reached Aiselin, stopping it.

“…There is no time, Aiselin.”

“Brother… what are you saying…?”

“…Before I lose my sanity again, you must end this.”

Dereck looked at Aiselin in silence. Shortly after, he nodded slightly without a word.

Aiselin bit her lower lip and picked up the sword with her trembling and delicate hands.

And under the rain, she walked slowly toward Valerian. Her body was soaked and she stumbled several times, unable to muster strength.

However, Valerian remained motionless, watching her approach without moving an inch.

“I’m sorry things had to end this way…”

“Brother… Valerian…”

Aiselin raised the sword with trembling hands and uttered his name several times with a broken voice.

But there was no turning back. If she didn’t finish Valerian while he still possessed a moment of lucidity, House Duplain would fall even lower. Valerian knew this. So, with tears streaming down her face, Aiselin raised the sword even higher.

**Slash!**

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But from Rozin’s staff, which Valerian still held, a new wave of power began to sprout.

As if it could not allow the death of the one who carried it, acting as its conduit, a more intense will began to whisper to him. It urged him to seek more power, more corpses, more slaughter.

Valerian bit his lip and clung to his sanity, silently observing Aiselin.

Aiselin, with tears streaming down her cheeks, looked at Valerian and finally let the sword fall from her hands.

“Brother… Brother, there has to be another way. Even if it’s not this… there has to be another way…”

“Lady Aiselin! Do not hesitate!”

Dereck’s voice echoed and Aiselin’s arm began to tremble. For someone who had lived her life like a pure lily, the idea of killing her own blood was too cruel. He knew it, but hesitating now would resolve nothing.

Shortly after, an even greater power began to emanate from Rozin’s staff. Valerian screamed in pain, and the storm around them grew more violent.

**Whoosh!**

Aiselin fell to the ground whipped by the wild wind, looking with trembling eyes at the sword lying on the floor.

The sudden burden she had to bear felt like it weighed a thousand tons.

Dereck watched in silence, realizing there was no longer any hope.

Perhaps it would be better if he did it himself and claimed that Aiselin had done it. In a crisis like this, there was no time to lose.

Just as Dereck was about to pick up the sword…

“…Then I will do it.”

**Snap!**

A girl appeared in the middle of the storm and took the sword. It seemed too heavy for her small hands, but she pressed her lips together and approached Valerian.

**Thump!**

What happened next occurred in an instant.

The girl’s long hair billowed wildly in the storm. It looked like a lion’s mane swaying in the wind.

***

I still clearly remember Diella chasing a ball through the garden of the manor.

She had once been a sweet child, but she became a beautiful young woman.

She learned to manage the servants in her own way, mastered numerous rules of etiquette, and excelled in the arts. Sitting alone in the garden, with the canvas spread before her, pursing her lips while contemplating her painting, she truly looked like a noble lady.

Feeling a strange mixture of pride and tenderness, Valerian looked silently at Diella, who had thrown herself into his arms.

The sword she held pierced his chest. Blood erupted from Valerian’s lips.

The dress he had prepared for the ball was stained red.

As soon as she stepped off the carriage and saw the scene, Diella made a swift decision.

Though her face was streaked with tears, she bit her lower lip to contain her emotions. However, the trembling of her hands betrayed her feelings.

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‘Now I understand…’

Only then did Valerian comprehend. That determination, that step forward despite the fear, was Diella’s greatest strength. That resolute expression was the same one she had when she painted with watercolors.

How much determination did it take to draw each irreversible line on a blank canvas?

And when she made a mistake, her ability to adapt quickly and correct it was a divine gift. In this splendid and talented family, perhaps Valerian had been a design error. In a way, this was an extraordinary improvisation.

Valerian smiled slightly and placed his hand on Diella’s head.

Seeing her tremble, he let out a soft chuckle and said:

“You’ve… grown up, haven’t you…?”

Diella, who had been looking down, opened her eyes in surprise. Shortly after, Valerian lost all his strength and collapsed to the ground.

**Thump**

**Clang! Clang!**

The staff fell from Valerian’s hand and rolled across the ground.

The rain began to subside gently.

Drenched, Diella looked up at the dark clouds slowly dispersing. Sunlight filtered through the bones of the giant skeleton, now motionless.

Kneeling in the mud, she contemplated her brother’s cold and inert body.

She held her breath so as not to cry, for she felt that even a moment of weakness would unleash her tears.

*Step, step.*

A mercenary approached the girl sitting there.

“Lady Diella.”

The voice calling her gently was the one she loved most.

“It’s been a long time, Dereck. I’m embarrassed to say it after having invited you, but as you can see… the ball was a disaster.”

“It’s alright.”

Diella spoke in a barely audible voice, soaked in tears. Dereck stood behind her, shaking the mud off his clothes.

With trembling shoulders, Diella whispered:

“Dereck. I’m sorry, but can I ask you a favor?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Could you… hold me, even if it’s just for this once?”

“…”

Without hesitation, Dereck knelt beside her and embraced her.

Moments later, the girl who had lost everything broke into tears in Dereck’s arms.

She clung tightly to his neck and buried her face in his chest.

Both were soaked, covered in mud, blood, and sweat… but neither complained.