Chapter 38: The Wheel of Fate Stutters

Erich drew his sword from its scabbard and plunged it deep into the monster’s remaining body.

“Whose magic is this?”

Unlike the clean, bloodless cut, the part of the body pierced by his sword bled profusely.

“Y-yes?”

The people inside the overturned carriage coughed, then slowly raised their heads. As the dust settled, the survivors came into view.

They were a woman and her servants, whose elegant attire seemed almost out of place given their luxurious, yet now ruined, carriage. A coachman, a Lady-in-waiting, and others along with the well-dressed woman, all watched Erich with anxious expressions.

“Who used such magic?”

“W-weren’t you the one who saved us? We know nothing.”

The woman, seemingly of the highest status, clutched her head, her face etched with apprehension.

She possessed a familiar hair color. White locks, similar to his own or his sister’s, cascaded in wavy curls past her shoulder blades.

Her pink eyes, tinged with a hint of melancholy, darted about warily.

“Are you alright, though? And who might you be?”

“Just a traveler passing through.”

“You don’t… quite look like bandits.”

The Northern Mountains were rife with bandits. Outsiders from distant lands often found themselves with few options when unwelcomed by the local populace.

It seemed they had been ambushed by bandits while traveling in their luxurious carriage, only to encounter the monster immediately afterward.

As evidence, bandits and their corpses lay strewn across the ground in equal measure.

Erich, observing the scattered bodies and the survivors, recognized the woman.

“You must be Lucia Rondo.”

He had never seen her face, yet he knew instantly. A young lady with wavy white hair, speaking with a capital city accent, heading north. All signs pointed to Lucia Rondo.

“I am, but who are you?”

Conversely, Lucia did not recognize the Emperor at first glance. She eyed the man, whose unremarkable attire belied his distinctive white hair, with caution.

It was the very moment the wheel of fate began to turn.

****

Under the Emperor’s forceful decree, Lucia, destined to marry the Duke who governed half of the Northern territories, was widely known as one devoid of magic.

In truth, however, she possessed a catastrophic magic capable of reducing objects to dust.

Orbs conjured from Lucia’s fingertips would shatter anything within them, leaving not a trace behind.

In her youth, unable to control her magic, Lucia committed a terrible mistake. She concealed her power and minimized her interactions with others.

She knew that her excessively dangerous magic would become an object of fear, alienating her from a normal human life, much like Erich, with his immortal magic, was revered as a monster yet constantly plagued by assassination attempts.

Bearing this heavy secret alone, Lucia journeyed to the North, only to inadvertently reveal her magic while saving Greg.

Greg, in turn, protected Lucia’s secret and gradually came to accept her as his wife.

Erich, finding Greg’s kindness towards Lucia suspicious given his emphasis on magic, began to delve into her secret.

Entranced by the shadow of death that lingered around Lucia, Erich obsessively pursued her, becoming fixated on her.

For him, who could not die, magic capable of killing anything was a temptation sweeter than any other.

Thus, his obsession with Lucia’s magic ultimately plunged Wietern into ruin.

This, then, was the tale of the original story.

****

Erich gazed intently at Lucia’s white hair and her inherently pristine white dress, now somewhat smudged with dust.

This was the very moment the Emperor encountered the sole being capable of his ruin.

If fate had run its course, this was when the seeds of obsession and doubt should have sprouted, setting the wheel of destiny in motion.

‘…Indeed. She really does look like a panda.’

Yet, Erich was lost in an entirely different train of thought.

“Pardon?”

“She’d look quite good next to the Duke.”

Upon seeing Lucia, adorned entirely in white, Evening’s words immediately came to mind.

When he had first heard that Greg and Lucia would make a striking black-and-white contrast, it had seemed like nonsense. But now, seeing Lucia before him, he understood.

He had wondered how much contrast black and white hair could truly create, never imagining her attire would follow suit.

Greg, who always wore dark, achromatic clothing, and Lucia, in her white dress, would indeed be a sight to behold standing side by side.

Like a panda, perhaps.

Or a Dalmatian.

Or even a black-spotted cat.

A sense of familiarity washed over him, finding it rather amusing.

“A panda, huh? Yes, it suits her. I’ll make that the wedding gift. Congratulations on your marriage.”

“Who are you? What are you suddenly talking about?”

Lucia Rondo did not let Erich’s nonsensical words pass unnoticed.

Her nerves frayed from the bandit and monster attack, she began to challenge him. Erich, in turn, pulled his sword from the monster’s body and mounted his horse.

“You’re a celebrity, so I suppose I was too familiar. Don’t mind me. It seems I’ve been rude, so I’ll be on my way.”

“Isn’t it customary to introduce yourself once faces have been seen?”

“Didn’t you just thank me for saving you? That’s quite ill-mannered toward your benefactor.”

As Erich, who had done nothing, puffed himself up with pride, Lucia wore an expression of utter disbelief.

Defeating the monster had been entirely Lucia’s own doing. She had only feigned giving him credit to avoid revealing her magic.

The man himself, the very person in question, must have known best that he had done nothing.

Yet, seeing Erich shamelessly boast as if it were his accomplishment, Lucia glared sullenly before bowing her head.

“Did you save us? If so, then thank you.”

“Why is everyone so bad at flattery? They ought to learn from Eve.”

Erich snorted at Lucia’s stiff expression of gratitude.

Though outwardly polite, her tone and demeanor were far from commendable.

Look at Evening. Even with her family’s leash around her neck, she perfectly wielded the ‘three sacred treasures’: ‘Thank you,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ and ‘I love you.’

Evening’s thanks and apologies, despite feeling like flattery, always resonated pleasantly.

In contrast, Lucia, even as she acknowledged owing him a favor, was clumsy in her greetings. This, despite the fact that she was marrying a Duke as a magic-less person, thanks to him, the Emperor.

“No need for thanks. I’m leaving.”

‘But I already thanked you,’ Lucia’s voice barely carried on the wind. Erich did not wait for a reply, spurring his horse past her.

This first encounter should have made him feel a sense of unease and suspicion towards the unshadowed, resolute Lucia.

Instead, the much livelier chatter of Evening, echoing in his mind, prevented Erich from fully engaging.

The wheel of fate let out a creaking sound.

****

Having left the Northern road, Erich rejoined his Imperial Guards. During Erich’s absence, the knights had taken a break, and, unable to shed their mercenary habits, they recounted tales of women they’d met at taverns.

“If a woman treats you that well, you should at least return the favor once, out of good conscience.”

“How do you know what might happen?”

The topic wasn’t how well they had charmed a woman, but rather how popular they were with women.

Having achieved immense social elevation, rising from commoners to Imperial Guards, they now enjoyed tremendous popularity among the populace.

Chasing after women had become a distant memory; now, they were in a position where they had to ward off approaching women.

The knight who had just remarked that one should not be too reserved with such a kind woman, turned to Erich.

“What about you, Lord Erich?”

“What about me?”

“Lady Evening, that is. She seems to be doing quite well, better than expected. With such devotion, why not just make her Empress?”

“Exactly. If she were a troublesome woman, it’d be a headache, but Lady Eve has such a good nature.”

“Is Eve your friend?”

She was, strictly speaking, his fiancée and a candidate for the Empress of Wietern. When Erich chided him for calling her “Eve,” the knight merely shrugged.

“We decided to be friends. She said we should be good friends last time.”

“You got rejected then.”

A knight, a good fifteen years older, interjected with a chuckle.

“This fellow kept hovering around Lady Evening, so she preempted him with, ‘Thank you for your kindness, but let’s just be good friends.'”

“Ah, brother! It’s not like that! Lady Eve was just joking. Even if His Majesty isn’t interested in Lady Evening, she’s still His Majesty’s fiancée! Why would I be crazy enough to covet her?”

The knight, who had been affectionately calling Evening by her first name, raised his voice, his face reddening.

“My kindness wasn’t for any other reason, but because she’s someone we’ll see often, and I just wanted to get to know her better. She’s fun to talk to!”

“So you liked that?”

“No, I didn’t! Why would I like Lady Eve?”

His face was overflowing with indignation, but the way his eyes darted around suggested he wasn’t entirely dispassionate.

“So you’re saying you *dislike* Lady Evening? I’ll have to tell her that.”

“Dislike her? I care about Lady Eve so much! …No, that’s not what I meant… You know what I mean, right?”

The knight, falling for every tease, jumped around, his face a picture of distress. He was desperate to avoid being seen as a scoundrel coveting the Emperor’s woman.

Yet, his fervent denials clearly revealed an underlying fondness for Evening.

While he wouldn’t dare make advances on the Emperor’s fiancée, he likely harbored a quiet affection for her.

“Hmm, Eve.”

Once he grasped this fact, far from feeling resentment, a sense of comfort settled over him.

“It’s not like that, I—”

“Who else likes Eve?”

He glanced around at the other knights, who all responded with either awkward embarrassment or sheepish smiles. This implied that no one would openly admit to disliking Evening in response to his question.

“Ah, Your Majesty. This is truly difficult. It’s not that I like Lady Eve as a woman, but as a friend, as a person, she’s a truly decent individual… Of course, she’s from the Margrave Flam’s family, but still.”

“I understand. She’s quite likable, isn’t she?”

Erich calmed the knight, who was clinging close and desperately defending himself.

He knew how disrespectful it was to harbor feelings for his lord’s woman, yet strangely, his heart felt at ease.

‘Right? I’m not the strange one, am I?’