“Until death do us part!”
Prim clasped her hands together in a romantic pose.
“It seems the effect will only end if one of the two parties dies!”
Mephir: “…”
Ten thousand years.
Or death.
At that moment, she had wanted to slam her head into the wall and end it all.
But she didn’t.
Because if she died, she would never see that person again.
…Wait, why was she even thinking about not being able to see that person?!
Mephir once again plunged into an abyss of self-doubt.
That morning, the sun shone bright and warm.
Mephir wandered through the garden of the Marquis mansion in a daze, unsure how she had ended up there.
Her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying her in a certain direction.
Then she saw him.
In the courtyard, Abel was training.
Together with the ‘Third Angel’ Sutis.
The emerald-haired little angel had transformed into gauntlets covering his right hand.
The two moved in perfect sync. Every punch carried a sharp whistle of wind, every turn flowed like water.
Sunlight poured over them, coating their figures in a golden halo.
Ah… so handsome…
Mephir stared blankly, her eyes gradually growing dazed.
If only my knight were him…
The thought surfaced, and she snapped awake in alarm.
No! What was she thinking?!
She shook her head hard, trying to fling those messy thoughts away.
Mephir, you are the Second Angel! You will not submit to some drug so easily! You still have so many things to do! You want to destroy the world! You want revenge! You want—
Her peripheral vision caught Abel again.
He’s sweating… I want to wipe it off for him…
Mephir: “…”
She grabbed the nearby pillar and slammed her forehead against it.
The pillar shook from the impact, and blood seeped from her brow.
A passing servant from the Marquis mansion saw the scene, and his face turned deathly pale.
“M-Miss Siglika?! What happened?! Do you need a doctor?!”
“Get lost!”
Mephir lifted her head, face covered in blood, eyes wild.
“I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! I’m just exercising my body!”
Exercising her body?
The servant decided the princess’s maid had lost her mind! He scrambled away in terror.
In the courtyard, Abel heard the commotion and turned to look.
He saw the maid called “Siglika” hugging a pillar, face smeared with blood, staring at him with a complicated gaze—madness, despair, and something else he couldn’t quite name.
“…”
Abel frowned, utterly baffled.
What the hell is this woman doing?
Forget it. Ignore her!
He still had important matters to attend to.
Half an hour later, the courtyard of the Marquis mansion was full. Abel had called them all together.
Abel’s gaze swept across the group of women who had come with him.
Prim stood on the left, her expression dark, clearly still nursing a grudge over what had happened earlier.
Aiko stood beside Prim, head lowered, lost in thought.
Ingrid stood on the right, expression calm, hands clasped in front of her in a picture of obedience.
Aruma stood casually next to Ingrid, munching on an apple.
Elfi stood at Abel’s side, warily scanning everyone.
Sutis nestled in Abel’s arms, idly playing with the corner of his clothes.
“Today I called you here,” he began, “because there’s something important we need to discuss.
We’re a team now, so I plan to train your teamwork.
Battles like the one against the Flame Giant Surtr will only increase from here on out!”
The moment his words fell—
“I can’t possibly cooperate with this despicable woman!”
Ingrid stepped forward abruptly, pointing straight at Prim.
Prim’s face changed. “What did you say?!”
“I’m stating facts!”
Ingrid’s voice was ice-cold.
“Everyone here knows you tried to poison Lord Abel! You expect me to work with someone like you? In your dreams!”
Aiko stood up as well, positioning herself beside Ingrid.
“Your Highness the Princess, what you did really went too far. Even if you have a grudge against Ingrid, you shouldn’t have used such underhanded methods.”
Sutis poked her head out from Abel’s embrace and chimed in.
“That’s right, that’s right! Bad woman! Old auntie!”
Prim trembled with rage.
She looked at the others.
Elfi seemed thoughtful and stayed silent; Aruma looked utterly confused, clearly not following what was happening.
“Fine, fine, fine!”
Prim laughed in anger instead of fury.
“Since that’s how you want to play, I won’t hold back either!”
She pointed at Ingrid.
“Ingrid, you accuse me of poisoning him? Then let me ask you—why did you just happen to appear at exactly that moment? Why did you just happen to see me ‘poisoning’ him? Why were you so conveniently able to save Abel?”
“Was it all just a coincidence? What an amazing coincidence, right?”
Ingrid’s expression shifted slightly.
“Moreover,” Prim pulled two letters from her bosom and slapped them onto the table, “this is a letter from the archbishop ordering you to return at once! You sneaked out while ignoring direct orders!”
She opened the second letter.
“And this one is from your colleagues. They told me you were acting strangely before you left, saying you wanted revenge on Lord Abel. That the hero position and Sutis’s contract knight were supposed to be yours, and you were going to take back everything that belonged to you? They heard every word clearly!”
Ingrid’s face changed completely. Although she had never spoken those words aloud, the letters from her colleagues carried serious weight.
Moreover, they really were written in those nuns’ handwriting.
Prim had pulled some strings; she had stayed up all night having her royal brother fabricate the evidence!
Since Ingrid wanted to frame her, Prim would play the game to the bitter end!
If they were going down, they’d all go down together!
“These letters are forged! I never said any of those things!” she denied.
“Forged?”
Prim sneered.
“How interesting. What kind of influence does this princess have to conspire with the archbishop himself and so many nuns just to spread rumors about you?”
The archbishop’s letter was genuine, of course. Half-truths were the hardest to refute.
Ingrid kept arguing back.
It was true the archbishop had forbidden her from leaving, and it was true she had violated orders!
As for the nuns’ letters, honestly they weren’t completely wrong, but she would never admit it!
Aruma saw the atmosphere souring and quickly stood up to mediate.
“Hey hey hey, everyone calm down! Ingrid isn’t that kind of person! Her Highness the Princess wouldn’t do something like that either! There must be some misunderstanding—”
“Shut up!” Prim glared at her.
“The archbishop and my father clearly sent you to bring Ingrid back, but all you can think about is having babies and you forgot the mission!”
Aruma shrank back pitifully and didn’t dare speak again.
Ingrid took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm.
“I admit I violated orders by chasing after you. But I only wanted to apologize to Lord Abel and make amends! I was afraid it would be too late if I waited…”
“Apologize?” Prim scoffed. “And your way of apologizing is to throw dirt on me?”
“I didn’t throw any dirt! I really did see you—”
“Enough.”
A single voice cut them off.
Everyone turned to Abel.
Abel pressed his temple, feeling a dull headache coming on.
These women never give it a rest for even one day.
What is this, the script of some palace intrigue drama? Didn’t I transmigrate into a 2D gacha game world?
From the corner of his eye, Abel noticed Prim’s royal maid Siglika sitting at the courtyard entrance.
She had somehow procured a bucket of popcorn and was munching away while watching the show, looking thoroughly entertained.
When she noticed Abel’s gaze, she smiled and gave him a cheerful little wave.
Abel chose to ignore her.
He was about to speak and tell the group to settle down.
Next he planned to head straight to Sky City to defeat the Goddess of Vengeance.
If another Descent Event occurred on the surface world while he was gone, these women would be the ones who had to handle it!
If they kept being at each other’s throats like this, what would happen if they caused trouble later?
He was just about to say something—
When Ingrid suddenly stepped forward.
“Lord Abel.”
Her voice was soft, yet everyone heard it clearly.
“Everything I said is the truth, but if you don’t believe me either…”
She slowly drew the longsword at her waist.
“Then I shall return this life you saved to you!”
“What?”
Abel was stunned, not understanding her meaning.
The next moment!
Ingrid drew her sword.
The blade flashed with dazzling silver light under the sun.
Then she reversed her grip and stabbed viciously toward her own chest—
The sword tip sank into flesh.
Blood sprayed.