Episode 119: Ex-Wife
Francia’s fingertips trembled as she held the letter.
Rudbeckia Freeche.
Yohan’s ex-wife.
Even if it had been a loveless political marriage, she had undeniably been Yohan’s wife. And now, having returned to the past, she was making her presence unmistakably known with a single letter.
Francia took a deep breath. Her heart trembled slightly, and a cold chill ran down her spine.
The contents of the letter made it clear—Rudbeckia had also returned to the past. Otherwise, there would be no reason for her to send such a letter to Francia.
Of course, even after their regression, Rudbeckia and Francia were not entirely unconnected. Both had been Bureau’s Second-Divison civil officers, and their service periods had overlapped.
Since they had been in different departments, their paths had rarely crossed, and they had no deep connection, but Francia still remembered her.
Before the regression, she had been too preoccupied to recognize her—just as Rudbeckia had likely failed to realize the same about Francia.
But that wasn’t the important issue right now. There was a far greater problem at hand.
‘How did she regress?’
Francia’s brows furrowed.
How had Rudbeckia managed to return to the past?
Francia herself had only been able to regress thanks to Yohan’s ability to read runes and the lingering magic within the celestial mage’s crystal ball, which had maintained the barrier.
There was no way Rudbeckia could have done it alone.
The celestial mage’s magic had been exhausted when Francia regressed, and Rudbeckia shouldn’t have been able to interpret the runes by herself.
And how had she even learned about the existence of regression magic?
“Did she overhear my conversation with Yohan?”
That was the only possibility.
Unless someone else had helped her.
But if she had received help—then from whom?
‘What is this…?’
Francia’s crimson eyes quivered.
She had no way of knowing.
But one thing was clear.
‘I have to meet her.’
She had to speak with Rudbeckia directly. Ignoring her was an option, but doing so might lead to unpredictable consequences.
‘It’s better to sever ties before things get out of hand.’
Just as Francia set the letter aside—
Click—
“Francia?”
Yohan entered the room. Wearing only a robe, his body had already dried completely, indicating that he had finished bathing some time ago.
“Ah, Yohan…”
Francia averted her gaze slightly, finding it difficult to meet his eyes. She had never expected her reckless desire to come back to haunt her like this. Her emotions were tangled in a complicated mess.
“Were you reading letters?”
As Yohan’s gaze landed on the letter, Francia instinctively shifted her body to block his view.
“I-It’s nothing. Sorry, did I keep you waiting?”
“I didn’t wait long, but…”
Yohan approached her with a concerned look.
“Did something happen?”
“…”
What was she supposed to say?
No matter how she tried to formulate a response, the words wouldn’t come out.
Francia discreetly closed the drawer, tucking the letter away.
“It’s nothing. I was just reading the same king of letters over and over, so I got a little bored.”
She forced a small, awkward smile and stood up.
“Shall we go to bed early today? I’m feeling a bit tired.”
“…Let’s do that.”
Yohan sensed something was off—her mood had suddenly dropped. But he didn’t press her for answers.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t curious.
There had to be a reason why Francia hadn’t told him.
“Let’s go.”
Francia walked alongside Yohan down the hallway.
As she moved slowly, her sharp gaze briefly settled on a carved pattern on the wall. The intricate design reminded her of a flower—one associated with Rudbeckia.
‘Rudbeckia.’
Since she was Yohan’s ex-wife, Francia would attempt a conversation first.
But if negotiations failed, she was willing to eliminate her.
Rudbeckia Freeche was now the greatest threat to Francia’s relationship with Yohan.
***
He had a dream.
A woman appeared.
A woman scorned as a witch.
A woman who was once known as the Obsidian Saintess.
But he knew the truth.
It was nothing more than absurd rumors.
A label forced upon her by deception and propaganda.
However, the woman was truly beautiful, so much so that even he, who had little interest in the opposite sex, couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Moreover, she possessed the power of purification—something that could help him fulfill his ambitions.
And so, he took her in. He provided her with food, clothing, and shelter, even going so far as to promise her brief protection from the Empire. She had value.
He wanted her.
For the first time in his life, he felt greed.
Was it because of her beauty? Or because she could help him achieve his ambitions?
He wasn’t sure. It was a mixture of many things, and even he couldn’t fully understand his own feelings.
With that unfamiliar desire in his heart, he watched over the woman.
The power of purification—it was the key to unlocking the realm of celestial magic, the ultimate goal he had been striving toward.
As long as he had her, he would reach that realm.
Thus, he made her an offer.
He would grant her everything she desired—if she agreed to become his wife.
But she refused.
Instead, her face turned deathly pale, and she fled.
Did she despise him that much?
He wasn’t hurt by it. He was far removed from the emotions of ordinary people, after all. It was simply something to acknowledge and move on from.
But her power—that was another matter entirely.
That power could elevate him to a higher plane.
Even if he gave up everything else, that was something he could not abandon.
And so, he formed a pursuit squad within the Mage Tower to track her down.
During the chase, he had minor conflicts with the young emperor of the Empire and Grand Duke Lenokhonen, but in the end, they even formed an alliance.
Their goal was simple—find her first.
After much hardship and even an unwanted collaboration, he finally found her.
But then—an unforeseen obstacle appeared.
A nameless man.
With deep navy-blue hair and piercing blue eyes, the man stood his ground, guarding the final path that led to the woman.
During the confrontation, he himself was injured—a lapse in vigilance.
He had never expected that a mere knight, barely at the rank of a special-class warrior, would survive his magic.
Of course, in the end, they did manage to kill the man.
The knight had been stubborn, but the difference in power was absolute.
However, that was where everything went wrong.
The woman vanished without a trace.
No matter how many tracking spells he cast, she was nowhere to be found.
And among the men who had pursued her—division began to arise.
After a long and grueling struggle, he was the only one left standing.
But he had sustained fatal injuries. Death loomed over him.
And yet, more than anything, he hated that man.
He despised him with a madness that burned hotter than the sun.
The celestial realm was right there, within his grasp—yet some nameless knight had dared to stand in his way?
The fury was unbearable.
A nameless rage, so immense that even he, someone who had long abandoned emotions, could barely contain it.
“Haah…!”
He jolted awake.
Looking down, he saw that even in his sleep, he had clenched his fists tightly, his magic surging to the point of shattering his chamber.
This had been happening for some time now.
He reached for the bell beside his bed. A crisp chime rang out, and a soft wave of mana spread through the air.
The door opened.
“You called?”
A woman with round glasses stepped inside, scanning the room. The chamber was in ruins—papers scattered across the floor, furniture reduced to splinters.
“You’ve destroyed your room again. I’ve lost count of how many times this has happened. Are you having nightmares?”
He pressed his fingers to his temples, his eyes shutting briefly.
“I don’t know. But I didn’t do it on purpose. My magic keeps fluctuating.”
He was bewildered.
Why were these memories flooding into his mind?
Was it the work of the dark mages? No.
There was no way he would fall victim to their petty curses.
“Well, I’ll handle the cleanup. For now, why don’t you go eat?”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
He rose from his bed and changed into a more presentable outfit.
“The air feels ominous today.”
“Even the great Tower Master believes in superstitions?”
“Of course not.”
A faint smile played at his lips.
“The sky is me, after all.”
***
A quiet café in a remote territory.
With few people around and a pleasant atmosphere, it was a good place for a conversation.
Francia sat gracefully, tilting her teacup.
‘She should be arriving soon.’
Francia had sent a letter to Rudbeckia with the meeting location and had suggested they talk there.
And so, she was waiting for Rudbeckia.
“Hoo…”
Clack.
Francia set down her teacup.
Just like the fragrant white steam rising from the tea, she felt tension, anxiety, and even a strange sense of fear, but she did not show it.
‘Stay calm.’
Just as Francia closed her eyes and waited—
Ding—
A cold yet reassuring chime rang out.
It was the sound of the café’s bell that rang whenever the door moved.
Click. Click.
A woman with deep blonde hair and green eyes strode toward Francia with long steps.
“Francia Fervache.”
A voice, heavy yet clear and pure, called out to her.
Francia slowly opened her eyes and lifted her head.
Standing before her was Rudbeckia, looking as she had in the past—yet oddly younger. Her gaze was cold and sharp, filled with murderous intent, as if she might kill Francia at any moment.
But Francia, showing no emotion, simply spoke in a calm tone.
“Sit down.”
“…”
The unwavering composure in Francia’s demeanor sent a chill down Rudbeckia’s spine. How could she be so calm? Even before her regression, she had thought this woman was frighteningly resolute.
“You crazy bitch…”
Muttering a curse, Rudbeckia sat down. This was a café. She wanted nothing more than to kill the woman before her, but doing so would only cause trouble for herself.
“So, how did it feel?”
Though Rudbeckia’s voice was low, the fury contained within spread like an icy wave.
“How did it feel to steal someone else’s husband?”
She leaned forward over the table. Her deep blonde hair swayed over her shoulders, and her green eyes gleamed like a sharpened blade.
Francia narrowed her eyes.
She had expected aggression—but from the very start?
If that was the case, she would have to respond in kind.
“Stealing someone’s husband… The way you say it, it almost sounds as if Yohan truly loved you.”
Rudbeckia’s fingertips flinched. A sweat droplet formed on her forehead as she struggled to suppress her emotions.
Francia did not lose her smile. Her crimson eyes pierced through Rudbeckia.
“Don’t play word games with me!”
Rudbeckia slammed the table.
The small impact made the teacup tremble, and the hot tea splashed onto her hand.
But she was so consumed by rage that she didn’t even feel the pain.
“You stole him! My Yohan…!”
Her face twisted in anger as she glared at Francia with venomous eyes.
Murderous intent surged around her, and the magic stirred by her heightened emotions made the air around them turn chillingly cold.
“You disgustingly stole my husband. Yohan was meant to be with me, but you snatched him away…!”
Her sharp gaze bore into Francia like daggers.
Francia tilted her head slightly, a serene smile playing on her lips.
“But your marriage to Yohan was just a political arrangement forced by your family’s influence, wasn’t it?”
“…”
Rudbeckia’s lips shut tight. She couldn’t refute it. It was the truth. Yohan had never wanted to marry her. He had only gone through with it because of his family’s pressure.
In fact, right after their wedding, Yohan had despised her. He had refused to spend their first night together. It was only over time that he had slowly warmed up to her.
“This ring.”
Francia slowly raised her left hand.
A sparkling iolite ring gleamed under the sunlight.
“Yohan bought this for me himself.”
She lightly swayed her fingers, emphasizing the light reflecting off the ring.
“That’s…”
Rudbeckia’s eyes wavered. Her fingers clenched into the table as if she wanted to dig into it.
Iolite.
A special ring given only to a beloved partner.
During all the time she had spent with Yohan, Rudbeckia had never once received such a ring.
And yet, now, it was adorning Francia’s finger.
“Have you ever received a ring like this?”
Francia’s calm smile pierced Rudbeckia’s heart.