Episode 116: Saint Yohan #2
Rudbeckia’s pupils trembled violently as she stared at the newspaper.
Something was going terribly wrong. The Rozino Empire that she had returned to through the regression magic was not the one she had known. Most of its history had changed completely.
Even Francia Fervache was now engaged to Yohan, and Yohan himself was no longer the same person she had known.
‘My God.’
Anyone with a brain could figure out the reason for this. Francia Fervache. She had used regression magic long before Rudbeckia did.
Rudbeckia knew little about the infamous fallen saint, Francia Fervache. She didn’t know why she had changed the empire so drastically, nor did she care.
But if Francia had taken Yohan—whom Rudbeckia loved more than anyone else—that was a different matter entirely. Francia Fervache had crossed a line.
‘That wretched woman…!’
The once-serene expression on Rudbeckia’s face twisted into something demonic. Her delicate brows furrowed, and her once-bright green eyes were now filled with murderous intent.
Her hands trembled. That cursed saint, Francia Fervache. The woman who had returned to the past before her and twisted everything. The woman who had even stolen the most precious person from her.
She had known for a long time that Francia held romantic feelings for Yohan. The love in her eyes whenever she looked at him was undeniable.
Even so, Rudbeckia had left Francia Fervache alone. She had wanted to drive her away immediately, but she had restrained herself—because Yohan respected her.
And this is how she repays me?
‘That crazy bitch…!’
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Did this woman have no sense of morality?
She could understand if history had changed. Rudbeckia didn’t know what circumstances had led to this, but the flow of the world had been strangely distorted.
But this? This was beyond understanding. No—this was unforgivable.
Her grip on the newspaper tightened, crumpling the paper in her hands.
Even as rage consumed her from head to toe, Rudbeckia forced herself to take deep breaths, struggling to maintain her composure. Losing her temper wouldn’t change anything.
‘I need to investigate first.’
Rudbeckia carelessly tossed the crumpled newspaper onto the table and turned to her attendant.
“Where is Father?”
“He is in his office.”
“Can I see him right away?”
“Yes, he has no appointments today.”
“Then let’s go at once.”
With that, she rose from the sofa. Her lips were firmly pressed together. Though she was trying to suppress her fury, even her attendant, Mela, could feel the seething rage emanating from her.
Click. Clack.
Rudbeckia stepped out of her chambers, walking through the corridor with a rigid expression. The sound of her light footsteps echoed ominously.
The servants who passed by her instinctively recoiled. The air around her carried a chilling, razor-sharp aura that made it impossible for anyone to feel at ease.
When she finally arrived at the office, she knocked on the door.
“Father, it’s me.”
—“Come in!”
The voice of Count Freeche rose in delight at the sound of his daughter’s visit. Rudbeckia turned the doorknob and stepped inside.
The Count beamed as he rose from his chair.
“Rudbeckia! What brings you here? Have you come to see your father?”
“No, that’s not why I’m here.”
In the past, she would have smiled and acted playfully. But now, consumed by fury, she had no such thoughts.
“What happened to my engagement?”
“Engagement?”
“My engagement to Yohan Harsen.”
“…”
At the mention of that name, Count Freeche’s expression darkened.
“…I’m sorry, Rudbeckia. That promise can no longer be kept.”
“Why not? Wasn’t the engagement already in progress?”
Even if the other party’s circumstances had changed, the choice still lay with the Freeche family. The Harsen Viscountcy had already given their approval. there was no reason for the engagement to fall through.
“Yohan Harsen—no, I should call him Duke Lahart now. He is no longer in a position where our family can negotiate anything with him. Any prior discussions with House Harsen are now meaningless.”
Contrary to Rudbeckia’s expectations, Yohan’s rise to the rank of duke had made it impossible for the Count to proceed with the engagement. He was no longer the third son of a viscount but had become a noble in his own right.
“And there’s an even bigger problem—the young lady of the Fervache family, who is known to be Duke Lahart’s lover. Even the Harsen Viscount family had no choice but to approve it. After all, the other party is Fervache.”
That was the biggest reason why Freeche could not propose another marriage discussion with Lahart.
Not only had he become independent from the Harsen family, but he was also known to be in a relationship with the Fervache family’s young lady.
The Harsen family must have had no choice either. The marriage talks between the two families had only been discussed among them and had not yet been disclosed to him.
“…”
Rudbeckia clenched her fists. Her nails dug into her palms. Yet, she felt no pain. The burning fury in her heart far outweighed it.
“…When did this happen?”
“It must have been more than half a year ago.”
“…”
That was right before her marriage arrangement with Yohan was finalized.
“I’m sorry, Rudbeckia.”
The Count apologized calmly. As a father who could not grant his daughter’s earnest request, it was all he could say.
“…No. You did listen to my request, Father. That is enough.”
“Rudbeckia…”
“The truly wicked person is someone else.”
Rudbeckia’s eyes narrowed. A chilling murderous intent flickered in her green eyes. Her mana surged with rage, but she suppressed it, forming an artificial smile.
“Thank you, Father. I’ll take my leave now.”
“Alright…”
The Count could not bring himself to continue the conversation.
His daughter’s expression was darker than ever before.
Click.
After leaving the office, Rudbeckia quietly gazed out the window. The garden was peaceful, and laughter echoed throughout the mansion. Yet, she felt as if she could break into tears at any moment.
‘Yohan…’
As always, but especially today, she missed him so terribly that it ached.
***
Imperial Palace Banquet Hall
A massive chandelier hanging high from the ceiling radiated golden light, and the marble floor gleamed with a polished sheen, enhancing the grandeur of the hall.
Intricately carved pillars lined the edges of the hall, while the walls were adorned with the imperial crest and elaborate textile artwork.
At the center, a long banquet table was set with luxurious tableware, and candelabras scattered throughout the hall cast a soft, warm glow.
Clang—!
Laughter filled the air as nobles clinked their glasses together. Though a formal gathering, no one appeared to be anything but delighted.
“Congratulations on successfully completing your first expedition.”
Among them, a well-built man approached Yohan and spoke. Yohan remembered his name—it belonged to someone quite influential in noble society.
“Thank you, Marquis Bardia.”
“Haha, I’m honored that you remember me.”
Marquis Bardia smiled warmly.
“I must say, I didn’t expect such a grand banquet to be held at the imperial palace. I thought the celebration would be more modest.”
Yohan lightly tilted the glass he held between his fingers. Before attending, Francia had strictly warned him not to drink more than three glasses, so he took only the smallest sip.
“Haha, it’s understandable. After all, it was the glorious first expedition of the Purification Bureau. And we must also express our heartfelt gratitude and respect to the delegation from the Holy Kingdom.”
The banquet was being held to celebrate the Purification Bureau’s successful first expedition. At the same time, it was an opportunity to convey thanks to the reinforcements sent by the Holy Kingdom.
“That explains why so many people are here.”
Yohan gently swirled his glass and scanned the hall. The banquet was attended by the imperial family at the center, high-ranking nobles, Purification Bureau officers, and envoys from the Holy Kingdom.
“And Duke Lahart—”
Just as Marquis Bardia was about to continue—
“Ah—! Saint Yohan, here you are!”
A bright, cheerful voice rang out behind him.
Turning, Yohan saw Arbella running toward him with a radiant smile.
“…Saintess.”
Yohan’s brow furrowed. His face openly displayed his distaste. He tried to maintain his composure, but it was difficult to hide the emotions welling up from deep within his chest.
“Please, continue your conversation…”
Seeing Yohan’s expression instantly crumple, Marquis Bardia quickly offered a polite farewell and disappeared into the crowd of nobles. He hadn’t become a high-ranking noble without the ability to read the room.
Arbella smiled brightly.
“I’ve been searching for you everywhere! But what are you doing here? Are you not enjoying the banquet? And where is the Obsidian Saintess?”
How many questions could she pack into a single sentence? Yohan already felt a headache coming on.
“To answer your questions, I was greeting other guests. I’ve been enjoying the banquet in moderation. As for my fiancée, she is catching up with old friends.”
Many northern nobles had attended the banquet. The Duke Fervache, however, was still busy sealing the demonic beast-infested lands and couldn’t make it.
“I see! That’s a relief! After all, if the Obsidian Saintess were here, she would only get in the way of our conversation!”
Arbella beamed as she added,
“Would you grant me a dance? I would love to paint this banquet in shades of romance with you, Saint Yohan!”
Yohan’s eyes narrowed.
“I must decline.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I have a fiancée.”
“That doesn’t matter!”
Arbella placed a hand on her chest, her eyes sparkling. Her voice rang out loudly, but the banquet hall was so noisy that no one paid much attention.
She continued,
“You and I are bound by fate! The goddess Freyja herself has destined us to be together—no one can change that!”
Her face held the innocent smile of a child, yet behind it lurked an unsettling, fanatical certainty. A chill crawled up Yohan’s spine.
“Enough of that topic. Why were you looking for me?”
Yohan changed the subject. He knew that no matter what he said, she wouldn’t listen. And as the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom, he couldn’t simply ignore her outright.
“Ah! To think I almost forgot my purpose—such a mistake!”
Arbella widened her eyes in mock surprise, then stepped aside and gestured toward a woman clad in sacred robes.
“I wanted to introduce you to someone! This is the First Archbishop of the Holy Kingdom, Lady Rafaella!”
The woman, draped in a pure white veil, lifted her head. Beneath flowing golden hair, her crimson eyes met Yohan’s. Her beauty was breathtaking—enough to make time itself seem to halt.
Click.
As she stepped forward, it felt as if the world momentarily stood still.
“It is an honor to meet you, Saint Yohan. I am Rafaella, a devoted servant of the goddess Freyja and the First Archbishop of the Holy Kingdom.”
Rafaella bent her knees slightly, placing a hand over her chest as she bowed her head. The gesture was both dignified and elegant.
“I am Yohan Lahart, Director of the Purification Bureau and the second Duke of the Rozino Empire.”
Despite her striking beauty, Yohan remained unfazed as he introduced himself. He did instinctively swallow, but it was not out of admiration.
“I have heard of the situation. Archbishop Cain has fallen into corruption, has he not?”
“That is correct.”
Yohan nodded, and Rafaella gently clasped her delicate hands together, slowly closing her eyes.
“For one who was once a devoted servant of the goddess and an Archbishop of the Holy Kingdom to stray into the path of dark magic… it is truly a tragedy. That Is why I have come on behalf of the Holy Kingdom to express our gratitude.”
As she finished her prayer, she softly opened her eyes and continued,
“On behalf of the Holy Kingdom, I thank you, Saint Yohan, for punishing the sinner.”
Yohan hadn’t been the one to deliver the final blow, but he saw no need to correct her. There must have been a reason the commander of the Holy Knights had framed the story that way.
“There is no need for thanks. It was simply a duty that had to be carried out.”
“Is that so…?”
Rafaella gazed at Yohan with a look of pure admiration, her crimson eyes filled with reverence. She seemed to find joy simply in looking at him, a gentle smile gracing her lips.
“But, Saint Yohan, there is something I am truly curious about. May I ask you a question?”
“What is it?”
Yohan, absentmindedly swirling his wine, tilted his head slightly.
Rafaella asked,
“When do you plan to hold your wedding with the Saintess?”