I Thought I Didn’t Have Long To Live!

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In a deep alley of the Capital, a handsomely dressed man ran through the dark path like a madman. His gray hair, which had always been carefully arranged, was now disheveled, and his dignified face was distorted with horror. His red eyes darted around constantly as he desperately searched for a hiding place to survive. There was no one to help him as he was cornered, forcing him to embark on a long journey to seek assistance.

"Ahhh!"

Not far away, the cry of the priest who was with him echoed, and the smell of blood grew stronger.

"Damn it, damn it!"

The man continued to curse, running while trying to regain his strength with divine power, but he didn't have time. His divine power was nearly depleted. The cries sounded close, and then abruptly ceased. It seemed that the last priest was dead, as evidenced by the sound of light footsteps approaching him. Now, they were after him.

¡Kwaaang!

¡Boom!

The wall next to the man collapsed with a loud noise. Urgently, he squeezed out his remaining divine power and created a defensive barrier to avoid fatal injuries. However, a stone struck his ankle. Soon, a figure emerged from the white dust. He had seen this person in the temple, wearing a splendid priest's uniform.

"He doesn't want to save me?"

The man tried to heal his injured ankle and stared at the person who appeared in the dust. Silver hair swirled, seemingly made of moonlight, and golden eyes gleamed in the darkness with a touch of madness. It was Doha, wearing a smile at the corner of his lips—a very beautiful man.

"High Priest."

"Mikhail Dohabellion..."

Gibralfaro wrinkled his face and cursed Doha, calling him a fake. His voice was filled with hatred.

"You're truly insane! Dare you, dare you touch me! You dream of power, how did you survive?"

Gibralfaro pointed at Doha and shouted, truly believing he was insane. Suddenly, he disappeared from the capital, but not long after, he returned and did something like this! Along Doha's path, some of the priests who followed Gibralfaro fell with their throats slit. Doha's shoes were soaked in the blood they spilled, and his white priest uniform was stained with crimson. He had already killed several priests, yet Doha's face showed no guilt. All the priests Doha killed were the ones who had sent countless assassins to kill him. He couldn't feel remorse for killing those men.

"When His Holiness the Pope finds out, he will order your punishment as soon as possible! I challenge you..."

"You're very loud," Doha murmured with a smile still on his lips.

"Frightened men always talk too much."

"Well... you want..."

In an instant, a white spear appeared in Doha's hand. He grabbed it and struck Gibralfaro's thigh without hesitation.

"Ahhh!"

A scream erupted from Gibralfaro due to the excruciating pain in his thigh. He somehow attempted to defend himself with a protective barrier, but it was shattered by Doha's power.

"You're not the same priest Mikhail that I knew."

Gibralfaro instinctively felt that Mikhail Dohabellion might have been a madman, but not the type of person who would commit a crime. Now, he appeared to be a man without a future. Someone who felt no remorse in life, and the energy emanating from him was extraordinary. Mikhail Dohabellion had been a prodigy who surpassed Gibralfaro from a young age, but now he exuded a depth of power that couldn't be explained with just the word 'prodigy.' It seemed like he had broken through the boundaries of normalcy. To Gibralfaro, it was unthinkable. Even the current Pope had barely reached a certain level of power, and in the face of the overwhelming sensation of power, Gibralfaro clenched his teeth tightly and loosened the force in his mouth.

"His Holiness..."

"His Holiness."

Doha's eyes curved softly.

"Does he know that I am his son?"

Gibralfaro's face was filled with shock as the truth, which had been painstakingly hidden, was revealed. The truth was that Doha was the Pope's son. It happened a long time ago when the Pope was staying in the Holy City. He visited Withya and met Doha's mother, Claudia. She was more beautiful than any other woman he had ever encountered, even more so than a woman of noble blood. That's why the Pope desired her, and Claudia quickly became fascinated by him. The more divine power one possessed, the longer they could live, and they would age slowly. And so, Doha was born. However, the Pope grew tired of the prostitute and left the Holy City without knowing that Claudia was pregnant. She waited for him to raise their child together. A few years later, Gibralfaro received unpleasant news.

"Gibralfaro, a prostitute from Withya claimed she was pregnant with the Pope's seed and gave birth."

Originally, it was a task that Gibralfaro was supposed to take care of, but there was another reason.

"But the prostitute claimed that the name of the high-ranking priest was Jeremiah."

Jeremiah was the nickname of the current Pope. If that was the case, it was obvious that the High Priest, who aspired to the position of the Pope, had to take care of it, disposing of those who knew the truth.

"Yes, good job."

"Cough..."

Gibralfaro's sword penetrated the priest's body. Even if he was only following orders, he couldn't leave any risk factors in the temple. He had to kill everyone who knew the truth, and although he saved Doha's life by some unknown whim, he arrogantly thought it wouldn't be bad to have the son nearby and keep an eye on him. However, after Doha began displaying his natural power, Gibralfaro regretted his choice.

"In the end, I will die because of my arrogance."

Gibralfaro pursed his lips and smiled as the tremors in his body gradually subsided.

"Huh, you left the capital, I wondered where you were. Turns out the little one went to find his mother!"

Gibralfaro laughed, his mouth bleeding.

"Do you think the dying Pope will acknowledge you as his son? A poor boy like you? Will you beg for love? Hahaha!"

He forgot his fear and was busy mocking Doha. Anyway, there was no possibility of survival once this fact was discovered, so he would laugh until the end. The smile disappeared from Doha's face, but he wasn't angry. There was no emotion on that beautiful face.

"I told you, it's best not to provoke me anymore," Doha murmured indifferently, pulling out the lance that was embedded in Gibralfaro's thigh. He remembered the warning he had heard one day, groaning in pain as he reopened the wound.

"It's better if you don't provoke me anymore because I don't know what I'm capable of doing."

Gibralfaro's eyes cleared. That's what he thought and laughed. It was his last thought. Immediately after that, his head was severed by Doha's lance and rolled to the ground. Blood gushed like a fountain from the headless neck, soaking his garments. He had lost his conversational companion.

"I'm tired of love."

I never begged my mother or Lariette to love me, but it wasn't my job in the first place. What I thought was a ray of sunshine to save myself was impossible, just a futile hope. When I opened my eyes, there was familiar darkness enveloping my body. Once I had tasted the warmth of the sun, the faint darkness felt even colder. I had to get used to this darkness, but the memories of that time were so sweet that they wouldn't leave my mind. That's why Doha had to lament and despair every moment. It would probably be like this forever.

----------------

Two weeks had passed since they enjoyed their trip and returned to the capital. Lariette had a very normal day, having dinner with Asrahan, engaging in small conversations, and when he went to work at the palace, she spent time with Erzebut, Zenvier, and Juana. It was a boring routine, but Lariette loved it. She considered it something precious because she had once lost it. After receiving a proposal from Asrahan, daily life was quite different from before. The first change was that Lariette, as a potential Duchess, began learning household tasks from the Duchess of Candel. When she was in the House Blanche, she often did these tasks on behalf of her mother, so it wasn't too difficult. Wedding preparations were also underway step by step. Hallstein insisted that the Candel family's wedding should be bigger and more glamorous than the imperial family's, but Lariette rejected that idea. There was no need for an ostentatious wedding, and there was no reason to rush. So they continued their preparations slowly. Finally, this is what changed after the proposal.

"Lariette, try this."

"Oh, thank you!"

Lariette readily accepted the fork from Asrahan into her mouth. Their eyes met, and there seemed to be a spark.

"...Everyone, leave."

Asrahan quietly ordered, and the servants left the dining room with great naturalness.

"Ah, Asrahan! Wait, just eat this..."

"It will taste good even if it cools down."

"Its flavor is more delicious when it's warm! " Lariette insisted, crying. Then Asrahan unbuttoned his shirt, skillfully revealing the muscles on his chest. He had realized that this method worked well for him. As expected, Lariette dropped the spoon as soon as she saw that beautiful body. The most enticing thing was right in front of her. But who would eat soup when there's something more tempting? Thus, these two young individuals, who would soon be married, sparkled every time their eyes met. It didn't matter the time, the place, or anything else. Initially, Lariette used to spend days in bed, but thanks to the numerous times they had experienced, her physical strength had considerably increased, and she could endure quite a lot now. Of course, Asrahan was not entirely satisfied. He might be able to indulge himself in a day or a night, and one day while they were sharing the bed, he said:

"What's your schedule for today?"

Early in the morning, as soon as he woke up, Asrahan, who had been eager for a long time, asked with a drowsy smile. Then he lightly kissed Lariette while she was still in his arms, and she responded, accustomed to the sweet kiss.

"It's been a long time since I met Erze, and I decided to go for tea together."

Not long ago, Erzebut had been very busy, so they couldn't talk properly. Lariette was already looking forward to seeing her face in about two weeks.

"Will you tell her that we'll be getting married soon at the tea party?"

"What? I won't talk about our marriage yet."

Asrahan's face suddenly turned sour. In fact, he was the one who wanted to announce the news of their marriage there because he felt like it. He didn't have many friends to announce his marriage to, but he simply wanted to show off that he was going to marry this beautiful woman. However, Lariette was firm. There was still plenty of time until the wedding ceremony, and she didn't think it was necessary to spread the news to avoid causing rumors.

"Are you ashamed?"

Asrahan asked, his brows sadly furrowing. Lariette smiled and playfully pinched his nose.

"Don't pretend to be pitiful. Can you act now, right?"

"...I..."

It had worked well until recently. Asrahan grumbled briefly and spoke.

"It's not acting that's shameful."

"Oh, my Asrahan, you're upset."

"Yes, I'm upset."

Asrahan turned his head away from Lariette. If Gerard or Erzebut saw him, they would vomit and say it was disgusting. But he was only cute to Lariette.

'You've grown up. You know how to act tender.' Lariette smiled and thought. She was very satisfied that he had changed like this after meeting him. He was no longer cold and direct.

"I won't kiss someone who is upset."

"When I think about it, it doesn't seem like it bothers me."

"Perhaps I'm narrow-minded. —Asrahan added cheekily and pressed his face against hers, indicating that he wanted a quick kiss. Lariette smiled and briefly kissed his lips. It shouldn't be long; she had to be careful because she might want another kiss."

"Mmm, by the way, I've been feeling a bit moody these days."

"I'll call the priest immediately."

"No, no! It's not that serious."

She waved her hand to calm Asrahan. Her face looked quite funny, but Asrahan's expression remained as serious as if he had been sentenced to another time limit.

"But still, I should call him..."

"Well, I'll call him tomorrow if necessary, alright?"

Lariette persuaded him, thinking he had mentioned it for no reason. Asrahan still seemed displeased, but he silently nodded in agreement.

"Let's change the subject."

It seemed like she had to quickly tell a different story to erase that pout from his lips. Lariette swiftly continued the conversation.

"As for the wedding, I'll announce it when the date approaches."

"I understand."

"My Asrahan, you're a good boy!"

Lariette praised Asrahan as if she were dealing with a child. Then she playfully tousled his hair from side to side. Asrahan responded, gently curving his eyes.

"If you've done something good, you should be rewarded."

It was a word to announce the restart of joy, a morning stained with pleasure. But Lariette didn't know it. She didn't expect that the news of their wedding would soon be revealed.

"You're no longer a noble, so why did you come to a place like this? Aren't you ashamed of no longer being the Duke's bride? —Shelia Mirchen said this, but it was impossible to remain silent."