The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen chapter 67

67 – My Prince -1-

Gieon is a meticulously hidden delicacy.

Like the creature hidden in a gloomy cave in a martial arts novel that significantly contributes to the increase in internal energy.

The Gieon in the warehouse of Histanaa, where the immortal beings, including the knight commander, are located, had the best taste.

Especially stealing the Gieon of the one who would become an enemy later is not only an act of mischief but also the most delicious way.

The demonic sword, Tirving.

A weapon used by the Archbishop of Greed, the greedy archbishop who caused a massacre in the capital.

There is an episode in the middle of the novel where Malik escorts the demonic sword, and due to the wind of a spy from the heretics, it becomes a failed episode of misfortune.

Ultimately, Malik loses the demonic sword, and the wicked archbishop contributes to killing the demon lord using the savage weapon.

The effect of Tirving was nothing special.

It can absorb magic.

Sharper than any other sword.

It only enhances the efficiency of the sword.

It was a formidable sword, not for its outstanding effects, but for its cutting power alone.

It’s not like a holy sword with the ego of Aegis, giving verbose lectures, nor an ordinary sword that imparts ancient skills; however, it was a sword that excelled in cutting power alone.

It just had the penalty of driving the user crazy with the dark magic aura, but it was a perfect sword for the heretic who enjoyed madness.

At the same time, it was also a sword suitable for me, who has resistance to dark magic.

I tried to ignore it because it felt creepy, but…

“Ricardo… Forged in black.”

“You mean the sword you bought for 100,000 gold to give as a gift to Miss Mikhail?”

“When?”

“While attending the academy.”

“Why does Ricardo have it?”

“He stole it because it looked good.”

“Oh… skilled hands! But… not so great.”

Encouraged by the lady’s provocation, I decided to steal it.

Feeling uneasy about stealing the sword intended as a gift for Mikhail, and wanting to impress the lady, who could boast that our butler used a magical sword, I chose to steal Gyeon.

Carrying around the shoddy sword made by dwarves would surely embarrass the lady, so I decided to steal Gyeon.

It wasn’t because Rowan made a strange request; it was just that I felt I deserved some psychological compensation… that’s why I came.

[“Poison Resistance” resists the deadly toxicity of the “Potion of Invisibility.”]

A potion focused solely on the efficiency of invisibility.

A potion I made.

It was a potion with such powerful toxicity that if even the specialized Uriah ingested a little, it would be fatal. But thanks to the poison resistance I had accumulated since childhood, it was a potion only I could consume.

Exclusively created by me.

A unique potion only I could consume.

Although there was a fatal drawback that the effect was lifted when using the “Aura,” thanks to this potion, I could easily obtain Tyrvang.

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With a black blade.

A sleek and well-crafted sword.

Perhaps because it was a magical sword, it exuded a dignified aura.

I smiled satisfactorily at the robust figure of the sword, which would make anyone who saw it describe it as a beautiful sword, and prepared to leave the mansion.

Because it would be troublesome if the landlord found out.

Climbing onto the roof, attempting to escape without paying.

“How about apologizing to Hanna?”

An exciting melodrama echoed from below the roof.

*

Hanna was crying.

“Why are you doing this to me…?”

Clutching her fists tightly, Hanna, who had been holding back her emotions for her father, looked at Rowan with eyes full of resentment.

Hanna was engrossed in thought after reading the letter.

“Why didn’t he leave me alone?”

“Why is my father, who ignored me until now, suddenly looking for me?” Hanna asked, scrutinizing.

“He said he doesn’t need a daughter like me… He treated me like dust all this time, and now he’s doing this… Why!”

“I never treated you like dust,” Hanna said with a bitter laugh.

“Never? Then why did you always ignore my training sessions?”

“…Because your brother had the talent to lead Hystania.”

“That talent of his. I’m tired of hearing about it.”

Perplexed, Rowan cautiously spoke, but Hannah’s ears, filled with resentment, heard nothing.

She hated everything.

Being in the dreary mansion.

Her father, with whom communication was impossible.

She despised her father to the point where the name Hystania, which she had always proudly carried, now felt shameful.

Crunch. The sound of grinding teeth emanated from Hanna.

“I wondered… with a hopeful heart, I opened the letter.”

Tears fell from Hanna’s eyes onto the discarded letter on the floor. Rowan’s letter, soaked in flowing tears, was gradually erasing the characters written with her father’s stubbornness.

“I thought, perhaps, something might have changed. I expected words like ‘impressive,’ ‘congratulations.’ Even if not warm words, I thought he would at least say sorry.”

“But what is this… What is this!”

Hanna’s scream echoed through the silent mansion.

Unspoken heavy words that had never been said in a lifetime reached Rowan’s ears. Hanna, who had hoped even a little that her changed self might make her father change, felt like a fool. She expressed her resentment to Rowan with tears.

Rowan silently listened to Hanna’s resentment.

‘It was the best choice.’

This was Rowan’s conclusion.

‘Because you didn’t see that illusion.’

An excuse he couldn’t say to Hanna. Rowan had the only refuge to rationalize his mistake.

However.

Looking at his crying daughter’s face, he felt that something was wrong.

The thought crossed Rowan’s mind that his selfishness, which only considered the best, might not have pushed Hanna to the edge of the cliff.

If. Only he had believed in Hanna.

If he had become a slightly warmer father, perhaps he could have avoided the ordeal that the blue window had revealed. A fearful thought twisted through Rowan’s mind.

Rowan furrowed his brow in contemplation.

He always believed he was right.

Rowan deceived himself into thinking that Hanna hadn’t followed his choices because she was still too young.

‘I am always right… just as every choice was right.’

In his resolute conviction demanding Hanna to sheathe her sword immediately, there was a suppressed urge in his heart preventing him from uttering those words.

Rowan reluctantly opened his mouth.

“It’s all for you. You may not understand now, but later…”

Hanna glared at Rowan.

“What is this for me?”

“…”

“What is it for me? Is insulting me for lacking talent something for me? Is trampling on a growing daughter for me?”

Hanna couldn’t understand Rowan.

She had tried to understand and hold back her tears in childhood, thinking that her brother’s talents were superior. But now, having achieved greater accomplishments than her brother, she couldn’t comprehend her father blocking her way.

She didn’t want to understand.

She had no intention to yield.

Having lived a lifetime under her father’s neglect, enduring meals at the table while forcing down food and enduring the family’s scrutiny, she wondered why he had never once asked for her opinion.

In a disappointed voice, Hannah spoke to the unchanging figure of her father.

“Some servant living in the outskirts said the same thing.”

“…”

“That I have talent.”

Words she had never heard from her family were spoken by a stranger for the first time.

Back then, she had thought it was absurd.

She had regarded that man as if he were insane.

But now, looking back, he was like a fairy-tale prince who made her strong enough to endure.

The presence that, trapped in a dark place and accustomed to self-blame, had given her a glimmer of light weighed heavily on Hanna’s heart.

Should she call these feelings love now? No, at this moment, she just desperately wanted to see that man again.

She wanted to speak of the injustice she felt.

“I wanted to ask if I was doing well.”

Hanna, with tears in her eyes, spoke to Rowen. She sharpened her words, saying that there was someone a hundred times better than him.

“Talented… would you believe it if you could defeat someone you thought you could never beat in your life?”

“At first, I thought that person was crazy… only looking for money and speaking pleasant words. But you know what’s even more unfair?”

Hanna looked straight at Rowen.

“He was enjoying telling obvious lies, smiling as if he liked telling lies… like a madwoman.”

Clang.

Hanna dropped the sword with the Histania pattern engraved on it, speaking.

“Does my father think this is right…?”

Hanna’s shoulders were trembling. Wiping her eyes with her hands, she cried, unable to say anything in the face of the pounding in her chest.

For herself.

Because it felt like suffocating to death.

Hanna’s chest was unbearably tight.

“Do you know that…?”

Hanna recalled a memory that surfaced in her mind.

“A person I met for the first time said that to me.”

Hanna clenched her fist and spoke, gasping for breath as she barely managed to get the words out.

“He said if I kept swinging the sword, I would die. Because I was thirsting for praise, he said I would eventually go to die just to get some attention…”

She thought she wouldn’t be like that. But when she looked deep into herself, Hanna had to admit it.

“I thought it was a lie… but if it were me at that time, I might really… do that.”

Hanna looked into the air with eyes full of certainty.

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Hanna felt like she would never see her father again.

“I don’t know what my dad wants. But… if.”

Hanna let out a deep sigh.

“If I die.”

And she said the words that became a dagger to Rowen.

“My dad killed me.”

Rowen’s face turned cold.

Looking at Hanna’s tear-stained face, Rowen realized that something was terribly wrong.

The water had already been spilled.

Rowen spoke to Hannah with a trembling voice.

“But… for you…”

“Stop it!”

Malik clenched his fist tightly and shouted at Rowen. He didn’t want to show such a disgraceful state anymore.

Knowing his own fault for accepting everything, Malik no longer wanted to see Hannah getting hurt.

As he prepared himself to be scolded by his father, taking a deep breath.

-Creak…!

Thunk!

A familiar face fell from the ceiling. Malik looked at the man in front of him with a bewildered gaze.

A man with red hair sitting there with a baffled expression.

Despite making a surprised expression as if he didn’t expect it to turn out like this, the man also responded with a perplexed expression.

The man who had fallen from the ceiling muttered.

“What weak ceiling is this…”

After uttering an irritated voice, he slowly looked at everyone in the office.

Staring at Rowen.

Smiling at Malik.

Winking at Hannah.

The man scratched his head once and then brightly smiled at Rowen.

“Sir, would you like to be buried in a proper place?”

Hannah’s heart thumped loudly.