PCP – 118

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Damia’s eyes widened when he noticed this.


To be honest, yes—She hated Louise! She was constantly arguing with her and watching her with venomous eyes, lest she make any mistakes.

—But she didn’t want to see Louise die right in front of her! Damia desperately ran to Cesare, grabbing his arm.

“Remove that hand now!!”

No matter how strong Cesare was, he struggled to deal with two women.

He interrogated Damia as if he did not understand her at all:


“What do you mean ‘why?!’ Move your hand!!”

“This girl is trying to hurt you, Damia. It has always been that way. But are you trying to save her? Are you…… going against me?”

Cesare sadly asked, as if she betrayed him. Damia was repulsed. He would sometimes speak as if there was some kind of bond between them.

She completely ignored his words, hanging on to his arm, trying to dissuade him somehow. But the wind shook the handle of the sword impaling Louise. She let out a painful scream.


Shocked by the desperate cry, Damia’s arms faltered for a brief moment. Using that opportunity, Cesare pushed her away.

Damia fell to the ground with a slam. Dirt entered her torn and bloody palms burning like salt. But, fearing that Louise would die the moment she took her eyes off of her, she ignored everything and fixed her gaze on him in desperation.

“Please, Cesare…… !!”

“I’m sorry, but Louise Ferria must die. Right here.”

And when all of this is over, you’re coming with me,

Cesare sweetly and gently whispered as he gripped the handle of his sword.

Just as he was about to take Louise’s last breath away—someone rushed in like a thunderbolt, striking Cesare in the face.


It was a fist as large as a human face, no different than a weapon. Cesare, who did not topple no matter how much Damia had clung to him, was subdued with surprising ease with just one fist.

With such a strong force, he rolled almost one and a half times and fell. It was the first time she had seen Cesare so helpless.

At the unbelievable sight, Damia gapped and looked up at the sudden savior. Rolling up his strong forearms, he grabbed Cesare and pressed him against the floor. Then he spit out angrily at Damia.

“Of course! I take my eyes off of it for one moment and all the worms rush in!”

“…… Sir Akkard?”

It was him. It was Akkard Valerian who ran here after hearing a commotion. Seeing him, Damia let out a sigh of relief involuntarily.

‘Now I can live.’

When she thought of him throwing away the handkerchief she gave him, Damia hated him so much that she didn’t want to see him again. But, now, regardless, she couldn’t help but acknowledge he had appeared at the right time.

Damia hurriedly looked at the place where Louise had collapsed. When Akkard punched Cesare, Louise had fallen, and now she was not moving.

“Miss Louise!!”

In haste, Damia crawled in the dirt towards her, seeing her stillness. Carefully turning over Louise’s body, she could see blood flowing from her injury.

It was urgent to stop her bleeding. Damia hurriedly pressed down on Louise’s wound with her hands while shouting at Akkard.

“A little further from here, there is a carriage from Ferria! Priest Lessid will be there, so please bring him over here! Hurry up!!”


Akkard looked down at Cesare, who he had been holding down with disappointment. He didn’t like him from the first time he laid eyes on him. And it wasn’t just because Cesare was on the High Temple’s side.

‘Crazy bastard.’

Those eyes glimmering with incredible arrogance blocked him from approaching Damia–preposterous. How dare he not know better—such a lowly male subject impudently trying to assert ownership when he couldn’t even touch his feet?

Recalling the memories of that day, Akkard grounded his molars in fury. He wanted to beat him a bit more, but Lessid’s sister might die if he did.

That would be a bit of a problem because Lessid had decided to become a royal informant to save his family and sister.

Akkard, who remembered this, clenched his fist and delivered his last punch with regret.


With a short groan, Cesare went limp and fell into the dirt.

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