Love Letter From The Future

Distrust is a form of curse.

The less one can trust others, the more they overestimate themselves.

Those who cannot rely on others, have no one to lean on. So they have to bear all the burdens of life alone.

At times, they might buckle under the weight, but still,

They ultimately trust no one and gradually perish like that.

This was the first sin borne by Delphirem, ‘Pride’.

And Pride gave birth to the cause of death called ‘suicide.’

It was the paradox of only believing in oneself, leading to one’s own demise.

Therefore, suicide was the loneliest death, yet in this worldthere were occasionally people in even more miserable situations.

Their lives were more like hell.

It meant they didn’t even have the bare minimum assurance needed to live.

The girl who once thought of herself as “Ria Percus” was no different.

She could no longer believe in anything.

She didn’t even know who she was anymore.

The beginning of her nightmare was always the same.

Pukkk, she felt the sensation of a blade piercing flesh.

The sensation so vivid it sent chills down her spine. With trembling eyes, Ria looked at the blood on her hands.

It was a trace of her sordid sin.

The hands of a monster who killed her beloved brother.

“N-No…”

As she desperately cried out, dimmed golden pupils came to her view.

It was the colour that symbolized both the only thread connecting her to her first love and the only obstacle that stood in her way.

‘Blood ties.’

How cruel fate could be.

Thus, Ria’s sin became even more evident.

She was the girl who had stabbed and killed her first love, who was also her brother.

“No, no, no… i-it’s a lie…”

Uttering only words of denial, Ria buried her face in her brother’s chest. She could still feel his faint heartbeat and weak breaths.

It wasn’t too late yet.

Suddenly, it was as if bright light shone through the pitch-black darkness.

Clinging to the thread of hope, Ria lifted her head.

But the nightmare was just beginning.

As her vision crumbled away in a white haze, a new scene emerged.

It was the reception room of the Percus Manor.

There, a woman with a distressed expression could be seen.

Though her complexion paled over the past few days, her beauty still shone brightly.

She was a beauty with hair like silver threads and eyes as luminous as pearls.

She was the woman known to the world as the ‘Saintess.’

Her lips, which always spoke kind words, were now firmly shut. Her tightly closed lips showed no sign of opening.

At a glance, it seemed she was being stubborn.

It was her way of responding with silence to a truth she absolutely didn’t want to accept.

It was, of course, a futile defiance.

Since everyone’s eyes were on her, she couldn’t hold out for long.

Finally, her averted gaze shifted and her lips parted.

A trembling voice slipped through the gap.

“…We cannot rule out the worst possibility.”

Though her words were indirect, their meaning was clear.

A chilling silence descended upon the drawing room.

Arthur, the Imperial Administrator, wiped the cold sweat from his brow and adjusted his glasses while Reynold sighed deeply with his arms crossed and Viscount Percus just hung his head low.

As for Lady Percus, she seemed to be on the verge of fainting. And Aaron stood next to her, as a support to keep her from collapsing.

Surprisingly, the rest of the group remained silent.

Perhaps it was because they simply couldn’t believe it.

Since everyone was maintaining their silence, someone had to speak up.

And it was Reynold who took on that role.

“By the worst possibility, you mean…?”

The Saintess hesitated for a moment, then let out a tearful sigh.

After that, she cautiously continued.

“…It means he might have to return to the Heavenly God’s embrace..”

The reality confirmed once again was exceedingly cruel.

Sighs and lamentations echoed from all around.

Celine and Seria were in a state of shock, while Elsie glared at the Saintess with teary eyes.

The only ones who managed to keep their composure were Leto and Yuren.

As always, Leto asked directly,

“Which is more likely?”

All eyes in the room focused on him.

Regardless, he simply asked again with a somewhat urgent expression.

“Survival or death… which has the higher probability, objectively?”

The Saintess once again lowered her gaze.

It was an ominous sign, no matter who looked at it.

Lady Percus, being weak-hearted, squeezed her eyes shut.

In the end, it was the Saintess who could no longer endure the silence.

Her voice began to quiver faintly as she answered.

“…Th-The latter.”

“Roughly how likely is that?”

Leto’s eyes, as he asked, seemed almost fierce.

He had the demeanour of a predator cornering its prey.

By then, the man’s pupil had deeply narrowed..

No matter how much the Saintess wanted to avoid answering, he clearly had no intention of letting her off. The Saintess, who dealt with all kinds of people, knew this well.

A painful sigh escaped from her lips.

Covering her face with her delicate hands, she finally spoke.

“I-It’s still early in the treatment… we’ll have to see how it goes, but as it stands, there’s over a seventy percent chance…”

“…Don’t be ridiculous.”

Her stammered reply was tinged with tears.

But before the Saintess could even finish her sentence, a growling voice interrupted.

It was of Elsie Rinella.

Her tightly clenched fists were trembling. It was hard to imagine how such thin arms could produce so much strength.

Tears already gathered in the corners of her eyes.

As if she could not accept it, she shouted with all her might.

“H-Haven’t you managed to keep him alive all this time?! And now you’re saying he might die?! He’s alive… still breathing! Aren’t you the Heavenly God’s most beloved maiden?!”

With Elsie’s each step forward and each outburst, the Saintess flinched and sobbed.

It was the first time she had shed tears in front of the group.

This made Elsie dislike her even more.

She wished the Saintess would stand tall and face her as confidently and proudly as always.

To assert that she could save him, to just wait and watch.

But the Saintess could not even bring herself to offer such empty comfort.

Because life was far too precious.

Like a burst of steam, a rush of emotion swept through Elsie’s mind..

Staggering, she took another step forward.

Her eyes were filled with deep, earnest emotion.

“Save him…”

Her voice was desperate.

It came out as a faint, sobbing plea from her throat.

“S-Save him… I-If it’s you, you can do it, can’t you…?”

Elsie could no longer take another step.

She collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

“I-I’ll do anything… Hm? I-Ian! J-Just save our Ian! You can even kill me instead! So please, hic, sob… P-Please…”

The fierce determination that was driving the girl crumbled in an instant.

Rather now, she seemed ready to cling to the Saintess’ ankles and beg.

Unable to bear seeing his niece cry, Reynold sighed and closed his eyes.

The atmosphere grew even more somber.

The one to break the silence was the Saintess.

“…Do you think.”

In a fit of rage, the Saintess stood up.

Her light pink eyes glared fiercely at Elsie.

“Do you think I don’t want to save him?! I’ve tried every possible way… done everything I could! But he was attacked by that Evil God’s Underling… th-that’s why I even prayed for three days and nights without sleep! If only that could save Ian!

Elsie offered no reply.

Her despair filled blue eyes simply stared back at the Saintess.

The girl was biting her lip, trying not to cry, not realizing how much more pathetic it made her look.

The Saintess stood up, fueled by anger.

But seeing her target like this, she found it hard to maintain her fury.

Eventually, her knees buckled.

With her hands on the ground, she spoke again in a trembling voice.

“I-If only he could live…”

She would do anything.

That was the Saintess’s genuine sentiment.

If only Ian’s opponent had not been the Evil God’s Underling, she could have saved him.

This is because the power of the Evil God nullified the effects of Holy Power.

And the power wielded by the Corpse Giant was also the same.

With every blow Ian received, the Evil God’s power seeped into his body.

And this was the result.

Now Ian’s life could only be entrusted to the divine.

From her kneeling position, the Saintess began to pray..

“…Lord, please.”

For now, that was all she could do.

The atmosphere in the room grew stiflingly heavy with that dismal scene.

Tap, tap, tap.

The only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic tapping on the armrest of a chair.

The source of the noise was Arthur, the Imperial Administrator.

He was tapping his finger with an anxious expression, then abruptly stood up.

“There’s nothing more I can say on this matter… except that Young Master Ian’s heroic battle will be remembered for generations.”

“He isn’t dead yet.”

The voice was menacing.

Arthur flinched and turned toward the voice’s owner. There, a pair of amber eyes were burning with a subtle rage.

It was Celine Haster.

Recognizing the person, Arthur let out an awkward laugh, as if realizing his mistake.

“Of course, I was just speaking hypothetically. The Sword Duke has instructed us to spare no effort in saving Young Master Ian. The Empire will ensure appropriate measures are taken… but there’s one problem remaining, isn’t there?”

Celine’s brow furrowed slightly.

Arthur had never been a particularly trustworthy figure.

He was diligent and competent in his duties, but he also had a tendency towards a petty, small-minded disposition.

And the typical response of a small-minded person faced with unbearable responsibility was always the same.

Shifting the blame.

“There is still a monster created by the Dark Order here. And perhaps… someone who is also accountable for Young Master Ian’s possible death.”

Several scenes flashed through Celine’s mind.

Arthur had always shown unusual obedience to Ian. He might also be aware of the secrets behind the Dragonblood Script that Ian possessed.

And any incident involving the death of a holder of Dragonblood script carried immense responsibility.

Even if the cause lay entirely with the holder of Dragonblood script, it was the same.

That’s how the Imperial Family operated.

But capturing a scapegoat might change the narrative.

Celine’s eyes filled with contempt.

“…surely you aren’t suggesting that.”

“This is what I think. Given the urgency of the situation, it was something that might have been overlooked, but…”

Before Celine could finish her sentence, Arthur seized the moment to get to the main point.

He pointed somewhere.

It was only then did Ria become aware of her own presence.

Aware of her pitiful self, trembling in that dark and secluded spot, listening to the Saintess’s words.

“…Let’s hold that monster accountable. She should pay for stabbing Young Master Ian!”

At those words, Ria found herself unable to breathe.