Catherine bit her thumbnail so hard it bled as she watched the situation unfold.

They said they would capture the crown prince—so what the h*ll was this?

The once-formidable knight order had been utterly massacred by a single man.

Even the knight commander, in whom she had placed her final hopes, and the chamberlain had died so easily.

Should she run away now?

No, it was too late.

That madman would surely hunt her down and kill her.

Even though Aiger had already far surpassed the character she once thought she knew, Catherine still saw him only as the final villain.

And so, in order to survive, she desperately searched for a way to escape.

No—she was at least sharp enough to realize she couldn’t escape. Instead, she needed to find a way to incapacitate him or secure something that would guarantee her safety.

Frantically searching for a way out, Catherine kept repeating to herself that this couldn’t be real.

Her mind refused to process what her eyes were witnessing.

Was that even a human?

A human?

How could a mere human single-handedly take down dozens of his own kind in such a short time?

And without even a noticeable wound?

Even if this were a scene from a movie, drama, or novel, people would scoff at it as an exaggeration.

As she gnawed on her already mangled thumbnail, her wide eyes caught sight of something—golden waves shimmering in her vision.

Because the crown prince’s overwhelming presence had suffocated the entire space, she hadn’t even realized there was someone else here until she instinctively scanned the area for a place to hide.

Catherine instinctively took a step forward, clutching at the fabric of her dress.

That woman.

Raylin Greuga.

She had to capture her.

Whenever Catherine needed to get rid of someone in her way, she always exploited their weaknesses.

And now, she could feel it in her bones.

Raylin Greuga was that inhuman crown prince’s weakness.

An arranged engagement?

What a joke.

If that was all it was, then why was she here, in this moment?

She didn’t need logic or a well-reasoned theory.

She had already learned that, in a life-or-death crisis, instincts were more reliable than reason.

And so, like a starving rat that had just spotted its prey, Catherine quickened her steps, slowly making her way toward Raylin.

Even as she stole glances at the crown prince, fearing he might lunge at her, she didn’t stop moving.

Her nerves were taut, and her throat was dry from tension—but Catherine hardened her resolve.

As long as she captured Raylin Greuga and delivered her to His Majesty before escaping through the secret passage—!

With that plan in mind, Catherine finally reached a distance where she could grab Raylin with just an outstretched hand.

This was a woman rumored to be weak and sickly.

And from the few times they had taken tea together, Catherine didn’t think those rumors were exaggerated.

Throughout their meetings, Raylin’s complexion had always been pale, completely devoid of color, and her frail shoulders looked like they would collapse at the slightest push.

Catherine was certain that even if Raylin resisted, she could subdue her without issue.

Grinning from ear to ear, Catherine grabbed Raylin’s arm and yanked hard.

“Got you!”

Her shrill voice rang out.

For a brief moment, the emperor’s gaze flickered toward them—but Aiger remained locked onto the emperor, unyielding in his stance.

He already knew Catherine was making her way toward Raylin.

And yet, he hadn’t stopped her.

Because before coming here, Raylin had shaken her head, silently telling him not to.

From somewhere within that dress—who knew where she had hidden it—Raylin pulled out a sleek, polished gun and held it up.

“Look at this. I brought it just in case.”

Everyone who might have been immune to a gun was already lying dead on the ground.

A spoiled brat from Sillion, with not a single day of training, would be helpless in the face of a firearm.

“Crown Prince! Step back, or this woman—”

Bang!

Catherine’s triumphant words were cut off by the sound of a gunshot.

Raylin, unlike Aiger, had not realized Catherine was approaching her.

However, the moment her arm was grabbed, she pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Other than Aiger, everyone in this room was an enemy.

As wisps of smoke curled from the heated gun barrel—

“Aaaaah! Aaagh! Aaaaahhh! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Aaagh!”

Even after being shot, Catherine had merely opened her mouth wide in shock, unable to fully grasp the reality of what had just happened—until a piercing scream tore from her throat.

Before her possession, the worst pain she had ever experienced was nothing more than minor cuts and bruises from daily life.

Even after her possession, while she had been treated with disdain as a wastrel, no one had ever physically harmed her.

But now, there was a gaping hole in her hand.

Feeling a hellish pain she had never known before, Catherine clutched her bleeding hand and doubled over, shrieking in agony.

Raylin, watching her, did not blink even once as she coldly spoke.

“I have no intention of dying twice at your hands—or of being used by you again.”

Had she not been screaming in pain, Catherine would have demanded to know what on earth Raylin was talking about.

But right now, she was too consumed by the torment of her palm, which had been shot clean through.

“Aaaagh! Aaaaaaah!”

As her shrill cries echoed through the room, the emperor and Aiger turned their gazes toward her.

Seeing Catherine clutching her blood-soaked hand, writhing in pain, Aiger instinctively searched for Raylin.

At first, he sensed two presences nearby, but neither of them was Raylin—so he examined the area around Catherine, assuming they had clashed.

However, Raylin was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had already moved away.

A slight curve appeared at the corner of Aiger’s lips.

“I’ll be hiding somewhere safe, so don’t worry, Aiger.”

She was always saying unpredictable things—and always keeping her word.

As Aiger readjusted his grip on his sword and turned his gaze back to the emperor—

The emperor’s eyes gleamed as he took in the sight of the Marchioness of Sillion, flailing in agony with blood gushing from her hand.

Whether Raylin Greuga was useful or not, as the Marchioness had claimed, was uncertain.

But what was certain was that something useful did exist right there.

“Marchioness!”

Straightening his posture, the emperor kept his eyes fixed on Aiger while sidestepping toward Catherine.

Noticing the emperor’s move, Aiger gauged his intentions and followed behind him at a slow, predatory pace.

He was certain that no matter what the emperor tried, there was no escaping him.

Seeing that Aiger had no intention of blocking his path, the emperor quickened his steps toward Catherine.

“Aaah, aaah. What is this? Why? Why is there even a gun in this world?! Aaagh! It hurts!”

“Marchioness! Marchioness!”

Catherine, still writhing in pain, finally noticed the emperor approaching—just a half-step away—and her face lit up with relief.

Though her plan had failed, she clung to the hope that the emperor would not abandon her.

She had completely failed to take Raylin Greuga hostage—so she needed to find another way to survive.

And the best option left was to cling to the emperor.

Having made her calculations, Catherine moved toward him even faster.

Still clutching her bleeding, mangled palm, she latched onto the emperor’s back and whispered urgently.

“Y-Your Majesty, you must escape the way you came—”

“Kyah!”

Before she could even finish her sentence, the emperor’s rough grip seized her arm and yanked her out from behind him.

“Huh?”

Catherine had never imagined the emperor would shove her forward, directly into the path of the blade.

Thrown off balance, she stumbled—right into the cold steel of a sword, mere inches from her face.

The searing blue flames burning in Aiger’s eyes showed no sign of wavering, even as they settled on her.

He had half-expected this outcome.

This was the woman who had dared to lay hands on Raylin.

No, she had already harmed her—and had paid the price.

And she had even claimed to have killed her once before.

“It’s a past that only I remember and a future that will never come.”

That was what Raylin had said.

But from the moment Catherine had appeared alongside the emperor, Aiger had decided—

If Raylin didn’t kill this woman, then he would.

There was no hesitation in his blade.

Catherine’s eyes widened as she looked down at the sword piercing straight through her chest.

Reflexively, her trembling hands grasped the blade, her lips parting as a ragged breath escaped her throat.

“T-This… Huh? Why? W-Why me…?”

Her already wounded palm was now further slashed by the honed edge, spilling even more blood than before.

But that pain was nothing compared to the searing agony spreading like fire from her heart.

As she stared at the crimson blood soaking her chest, the realization of reality finally set in.

While she was impaled on Aiger’s sword, the emperor turned to flee.

But Aiger didn’t let him escape.

Slash!

“Graaaagh!”

With a single, unerring motion, Aiger withdrew his sword from Catherine’s chest and swung it, cutting into the emperor.

The blade sliced through his left shoulder, and the emperor’s teeth chattered uncontrollably from the shock of pain.

Still, he desperately tried to flee.

“I—I won’t let you…!”

But this time, it wasn’t Aiger who stopped him.

It was Catherine.

“Let go! Let go of me, Marchioness!”

Catherine, despite her near-death state, clung to the Emperor’s leg, her ghostly eyes flashing with an eerie light. Looking up at the Emperor with eyes that were slowly losing focus, she stretched her lips into a long grin.

“I won’t die alone. And I won’t die like that again. I refuse… to.”

Catherine’s eyes were fixed not on the present, but on a moment in the past—her final moments before being reincarnated as the villain in a novel.

“You’ve been through a lot.”