Chapter 41

A sigh escaped, warming every part of its path as it flowed from the depths of his lungs. Gopher held Bleria in his arms. Her frail, slender frame was incredible, and it felt like it might shatter with too much pressure.

Bleria flinched and tried to pull away, but when he groaned as though in pain, her resistance melted away almost instantly.

Ha, so this works, Gopher thought, pleased as the vibration of her heartbeat reached him. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder.

“Why…”

“Just because.”

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Gradually, Bleria’s body began to warm. Once sufficiently heated, Gopher pushed her away slightly to examine her face.

Her cheeks were tinged with a soft red hue. She no longer looked cold, but a thirst stirred when he saw her trembling eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

Let’s confirm this a bit more. This time, she might not avoid it. Fixing his gaze on her, Gopher finally spoke.

“Bleria.“

“Yes…“

“I’m about to kiss you. Will you promise not to avoid it?”

Her parted lips trembled, unable to form even a questioning response.

Gopher cupped her now-warm cheeks, drawing her closer. Her body tilted and collapsed onto him. Reflexively, her hand pressed against his chest, only to quickly retract. He could now see her quivering eyelashes up close.

She struggled to avert her gaze at a distance where their noses almost brushed but ultimately locked eyes with him. Her trembling pupils gradually stilled, and her blinking lids lowered, eventually covering her eyes. Bleria had closed them.

When Gopher’s gaze dropped, he discovered where the trembling had gone. Her hand, clutching the sheets, was shaking. Smiling, he layered his hand over hers and closed the small remaining gap.

Bleria’s face turned as red as a pomegranate. Perhaps due to her naturally pale complexion, the flush stood out vividly whenever heat rose to her cheeks.

Although he had once advised her to conceal her expressions, Gopher couldn’t help but be pleased with the unguarded honesty of her flushed face.

However, the question she asked after regaining her composure didn’t sit well with him.

“How did you end up in a duel?”

If he confessed that he’d intended to kill Mixel, she’d likely make that same expression again, putting distance between them as she had before.

“Who knows? I acted on impulse,“ he replied.

There was no need to reveal everything—especially secrets that would worsen the situation.

“…You didn’t get hurt on purpose, did you?”

It seemed she’d heard about the time Mixel was expelled from Allnight. Gopher masked his irritation, maintaining a nonchalant demeanor.

“Did Mixel repeat something strange?”

“…“

“I was just startled when Grandmother arrived in the middle of our sparring match—both last time and today. Mixel is the one who aimed for my neck in the chaos. Don’t believe me?“

“No. I believe you, Gopher.“

Bleria’s words sounded more like the resolve of someone who wanted to believe him rather than genuine conviction.

Reluctantly, Gopher acknowledged one truth: Mixel had managed to sow a seed of doubt in her mind. But closing that tiny gap and redirecting her thoughts onto the right path was not difficult.

She once asked why Mixel Luke and I have such a poor relationship.

Back then, merely recalling the past had agitated him, leading to a poorly managed response. But now, with a regained sense of composure, he knew how to handle it correctly. Gopher began to speak.

“Mixel’s father—my uncle—is Duraic Allnight. You might have heard of him; he was originally the heir to Allnight. He fell from Grandmother’s favor and was stripped of the title for some reason. Many assumed he’d be reinstated since his siblings were all rather unimpressive.”

At the sudden shift in conversation, Bleria looked up.

“And then I was born. The child of the most unremarkable of Duraic’s siblings, my father.“

“...”

“When a child with potential emerged from such mediocrity, my father became fixated on making me the heir. From the moment I could speak and walk, I had no rest. Before sunrise, I attended countless lessons, and I couldn’t sleep until the early hours of the next day. Even when I was sick or injured from falling off a horse, there wasn’t a single moment I could call my own.”

When his young body reached its limit and collapsed, he was taken to the temple, where his father paid an enormous donation for him to receive blessings—only to push him back into the same relentless routine.

“Living like that naturally makes you grow faster than someone who eats and sleeps at leisure. It was only a matter of time before I caught Grandmother’s eye. And, of course, my uncle tried to kill me.“

“Tried to kill you?“

“It wasn’t much; most of his attempts failed. After all, there’s no place in Allnight beyond Grandmother’s reach. But there was one incident—when I was poisoned with paralysis toxin. That same day, there was a fire. Grandmother, Mixel, and I were the only ones not gathered in the annex where it happened. Everyone else, even the servants, was there.”

They called it bad luck, but Gopher knew better. If one were to pry open the minds of those who called it mere misfortune, they’d find other suspicions etched within.

It was no coincidence that almost everyone had gathered in one place. Someone had summoned them there, including the servants, to discuss some secret matter.

And in Allnight, only two individuals wielded enough influence to orchestrate such an event. With one absent, the culprit was clear.

“My uncle. He must have concluded there was no longer any hope of reinstatement. Still, unable to let go entirely, he probably lured the others in and sought to bring Grandmother down.”

Gopher added with a dry laugh, “As for my parents, they were likely coerced into attending. They were strict with me but far too weak-willed themselves.”

And so, in that meeting meant to unseat Stella, the fire erupted, claiming everyone’s lives. There was no need to deliberate over who was responsible.

Gopher still vividly remembered that day.

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It was one of the rare days he rested, still struggling to move due to the aftereffects of a paralysis-inducing poison. The eleven-year-old boy had been napping in his bedroom, likely haunted by nightmares.

“…Gary?“

“Oh, young master. You should rest more.”

Awakened by the sensation of being moved, he realized he was in the arms of his cherished servant, being carried somewhere.

“What are you doing?“

“Someone requested that I escort you, young master. You can keep sleeping.“

“Who told you to bring me? And where are you taking me?”

The servant glanced around nervously before wetting his dry lips.

“…Master Duraic instructed me to bring you to the annex.“

“What?!“

“Please don’t shout. You should’ve just stayed asleep.”

A rough hand clamped over his mouth, stifling his protest.

“Please understand, young master. If I bring you, they promised me a lot of money. I can’t be a servant forever. Nothing bad will happen. They’re probably having a family meeting, so Master Isaac or Lady Delilah must’ve arranged this.”

The servant, who had been by Gopher’s side since his birth, kept rambling excuses as they made their way to the annex. The closer they got, the colder the boy’s heart grew. Thankfully, his fears didn’t materialize.

Stella’s aide, accompanied by knights, blocked their path. The servant shrieked and struggled before pleading for Gopher’s forgiveness. Gopher spat in his face.

At that moment, Gopher’s concern for what his uncle had planned for him was secondary, consumed by betrayal. And then, the air shifted.

A maid came running, shouting, “Fire! There’s a fire in the annex!”

People rushed about. Chaos. Screams. Shouts. Fear, despair, and unidentifiable emotions mixed with embers floating in the air, creating a mess. Even while standing still, it felt like someone had pulled his brain out and was shaking it.

Perhaps that’s why he acted so irrationally.

With the support of another servant, Gopher headed for the annex. The intense heat, threatening him even from a distance, burned into his vision as he stared at the fire engulfing the annex.

Entranced by the scent of ash, he reached out, only for a scarlet devil to lick his palm.

“Ahhh!“

“Young Master Gopher!”

The heat pierced through his body like lightning, painfully confirming the reality of the situation.

A servant hastily poured cold water over his hand, but the excruciating pain brought tears streaming down his face. Gopher collapsed on the spot, on the verge of crying aloud, when—

“You’ve arrived, Your Grace.”

The boy, seated on the ground, looked up to see someone who appeared colossal in his eyes. The figure stood before the flames, observing them. The white hair, tinged with a flicker of red from the fire’s glow, remained unmoved, much like her wrinkled eyes.

As he wondered if the overwhelming scent of ash came from her, Stella muttered softly,

“So, it’s come to this.”

Even as she watched the inferno that had consumed most of her children and grandchildren, her voice remained remarkably composed.

At that moment, a seed of suspicion took root in Gopher’s mind.

Stella was the master of Allnights. Her eyes saw everything, and everything in Allnights belonged to her. Destroying her own possessions was also within her rights.

Thus, it felt natural for Gopher to believe—without ever speaking it aloud—that the Iron-Blooded Matriarch, who had not shed a single tear even at funerals, was the orchestrator of the flames that rose from the annex.

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