I Tried To Be Her Loyal Sword

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Chapter 232

“This is more of a farewell than a welcome.”

I tightened my grip around his neck, speaking in a flat tone. Though the strength in my hand was not something to be ignored, Zigmund simply stared at me quietly.

Neither he nor the situation, nor anything else, made sense.

“Stop pretending. You know you can’t kill me anyway.”

Zigmund let out a short cough and lightly tapped my wrist that gripped his neck. I suppressed my rising rage and arrogantly twisted my mouth into a smirk.

“What? Are you not eager to go to Karasho yet?”

If Zigmund acted like trash, I could act the same way.

If he could, then so could I.

Despite the hurt I felt from my own words, thankfully my laughter didn’t falter. Zigmund’s gaze darkened.

“Sending another disciple to keep your master company, such great filial piety.”

“You’re too kind. Your filial piety won’t matter when Karasho dies at your side.”

“You’re in no position to compare to me, having directly killed your master.”

The words exchanged between us were as cold as the night air that swayed Zigmund’s cloak.

I averted my gaze, unwilling to meet his eyes, focusing instead on the disarray of the cloak as an excuse.

“Right. Why not send him off to your master then?”

Zigmund grabbed my chin, redirecting my stray gaze back to himself. His violet eyes sparkled menacingly.

“Go on then, try to kill me.”

My hand gripped his neck, with the edge of a cliff behind him. The conditions were perfect for killing Zigmund.

“Ha. If it’s your wish, I’ll grant it.”

Thud.

With a grunt of frustration, I hurled Zigmund to the ground.

With a loud crash, he tumbled down, his black hair scattering across the white marble floor. Until that moment, Zigmund had resisted none.

I climbed atop him, pushing down harder on his neck.

“This reminds me of our first reunion. Back then, cough, did I have a sword pointed at you?”

Zigmund tilted his head back casually, reminiscing the past, even while coughing lightly.

“Regrettably, I wasn’t afraid then and I’m not afraid now.”

The balcony, illuminated solely by the bright moonlight, felt eerily still and romantic, ill-suited for the current situation. I bit down on my lip.

“You can’t kill me.”

“Shut up.”

I squeezed with even more strength on his trembling hand. I felt the pulsing veins under my hand.

Humans are dismally frail, and just a bit more pressure here could lead to the downfall of even the mightiest ones in the continent.

Saving a life might require my entire being, yet killing was so trivial. It was paradoxical and unfair.

“You can’t kill me. Because…”

Zigmund’s face, pale from the repeated words, began to overlap with that of my master, who died by my sword.

Cold sweat poured out in a manner that could not be cooled even by the night breeze. I felt bile rise up.

“Because I can’t kill you.”

His lips, thinning like a crescent moon, whispered a secret in a hushed voice.

Slump.

Cough! Just as my grip loosened, Zigmund coughed violently. I had thought no blood would spill from him even if pricked by a needle, but it seemed he, too, was human and looked in pain.

I stared blankly at that sight.

I figured the reason he wasn’t rushing at me, prepared to kill, was merely to mock me. I thought that someday, once his amusement faded, he would attempt to stab a blade into my neck unknowingly.

Perhaps due to the moonlight, when he confessed he couldn’t kill me, his eyes sparkled as if he spoke the truth.

“You and I exist to destroy each other, but isn’t that strange?”

His rough fingertips grazed my cheek. I couldn’t evade his touch or gaze. Like a beast ensnared in a trap, I felt overwhelmed by the flood of his emotions.

“Thus we complete each other.”

What Zigmund said struck too close to the mark.

“…What brought you crawling here?”

I kept my trembling breaths steady as I forced my emotions down and looked down at him coldly. Still pinned beneath me, Zigmund shrugged.

“Well, it’s just as you expected.”

“Stop flapping your gums and speak straight.”

I hoisted Zigmund by the collar. His head drooped helplessly, and his white neck, imprinted with my hand, was momentarily exposed.

He smoothly raised the corners of his mouth.

“You already know, don’t you? That I have someone here.”

A spy.

I had already suspected as much, but I never imagined he would go so far as to infiltrate Atara to collude with a spy. I glared at him with widened eyes.

“What scheme are you hatching?”

“Do you think I would tell you the answer to that?”

“No.”

Bam!

I punched Zigmund squarely in the face. In the past, I had avoided hitting his perfect face, but now I didn’t care whether it became mush or a dented can.

As he let out a low groan, I twisted my mouth into a smirk.

“I just wanted to hit you under the pretense of interrogation.”

This was my way of venting frustration towards an immortal silence I could not put to death.

Zigmund let out a laugh that resembled a sigh. Watching his calm demeanor, it felt less like a fight and more like a clandestine meeting.

Tap.

He lowered his head and boldly rested his chin on my hand gripping his collar.

“Surprising that you’d hit my face. I thought you liked it.”

Bang!

Zigmund’s body collided with the coffee table, producing a considerable noise, but I had no worries about people rushing over. After all, meetings on balconies typically hinted at lovers’ trysts, and thus entrance would be restrained.

“They say a person becomes twice as beautiful when they bleed. You’ve made me even more beautiful.”

I crouched down, tangled my fingers in his disheveled hair, and lifted his face. I stared into the mess that Zigmund had become.

If only it felt refreshing inside, but seeing his injured face didn’t bring me joy. My anger didn’t dissipate as I wished; instead, it felt stifling, like something was crushing me from the inside.

Violence could never be a solution.

“Then, are you satisfied with this much? Did it make you feel better?”

Zigmund blinked slowly, leaning forward as he presented his face. Blood from his nose had dripped and smeared across his face from my earlier punch. I forced myself to keep a straight face.

Zigmund, knowing my emotions weren’t relieved even a little bit, wore an expression as if he had no clue.

“You’ve never made me feel good.”

I ultimately released his collar, my grip weakening. Though my heart ached to pounce at him again, it always ended the same—I could only let go.

“How disappointing. To think there’s never been a single occasion.”

“Do you think your existence ever brought me any joy?”

Zigmund’s expression undoubtedly resembled a steel plate.

“Enough. What else would I talk about with you?”

As I grew weary of our standoff and tried to rise from my seat, he stopped me.

“I’m not done yet.”

With a swift yank, Zigmund proved that his earlier compliance was a charade. I nearly lost my balance, almost toppling over him, but I barely managed to stabilize myself at an acute angle.

“What’s…”

“Is the time spent with me only pain for you?”

“What?”

His face was mere inches from mine. Our breaths intertwined delicately as his violet eyes filled my vision. Perhaps I reacted subtly, but in that fleeting moment, his eyes sparkled.

“Do you hate me?”

He had persistently asked if I considered him a friend. Now, understanding that our friendship had crossed a distant river, his question was no longer posed in an upward manner.

I slowly opened my lips, which felt like they were stuck, repeating the need to pray for the answer to be a no.

‘Shouldn’t I say I dislike him?’

As if someone had plastered a sticky swamp onto my lips, my mouth wouldn’t move.

I always struggled with lies.

“You seem like you don’t hate me that much.”

Zigmund, annoyingly lifting the corners of his mouth, grabbed my chin.

Our foreheads touched, and so did our noses. It was too slow to escape, but my discomfort was overshadowed by my questions about this situation.

As I frowned and stared blankly at him…

Zigmund pressed his lips against mine.

My mind short-circuited. My sense of reality faded, and I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

Though not rough, his lips were surprisingly warm. I had thought they would feel as cold as a statue.

Just as I barely managed to hold onto my rapidly fading consciousness.

“What? Ugh…!”

Crack.

Zigmund bit my lower lip. The metallic taste of blood surged up, and every hair on my body stood on end.

We were a relationship more suited to biting each other’s necks than exchanging kisses. I had never pictured myself kissing Zigmund, not even once.

Perhaps due to its strangeness, it felt like someone was gliding a feather down my spine.

As his fierce movements sent my head spinning, our eyes locked.

His eyes, glowing with a terrifying light, watched me without blinking.

It wasn’t a gaze of affection; it was a longing to possess me at all costs.

The will to dig into my wounds and implant himself in my flesh.

It was madness.

The moist flesh felt heavy against my skin. I dug my nails into the marble floor, which felt unreachable.

As his movements intensified, he pressed down on my chin, trying to pry my mouth open.

Crack. I pushed Zigmund away just as his tongue attempted to invade mine.

“You crazy bastard…!”

“How’s that? Am I more repulsive now?”

With shock written all over my face, I stumbled backward, but Zigmund elegantly wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and smiled. He looked so satisfied, it made me want to throw him off the balcony.

“You’ve become so repulsive I wish to kill you, and yet you’re genuinely hoping I’ll come to kill you.”

His whispers were like sweet poison mixed into a cup, both disgusting and delightful. As my breath hitched, he slowly brushed my cheek.

His hand was cool, like a reptile’s skin, making it feel as if a snake was slithering across my face.

“I hope to find you even more contemptuous when we meet next time.”

Flash!

A blinding light burst forth, and I realized in that instant, teleportation had activated, yet I had no strength to catch him. His entire being began to fade away.

“And you really can’t kiss at all.”

With that final remark, Zigmund completely vanished from sight.

Staring at the empty air where he had been, I let out a sigh of disbelief. The metallic taste of blood swirling in my mouth made it hard to distinguish whether it was his or mine.

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and bent over.

“You crazy bastard…”

My mind was blank, and I could only mutter those words that night.