Under the faint light, a body lay on a bed. Though his complexion was rosy, there was no heartbeat, nor was there any breath.
He was, in every sense of the word, dead.
“So…?”
As a figure dressed in black garb stepped back, several anxious eyes looked in his direction.
With a silence that felt like it would last forever, the figure eventually shook his head.
“I do not sense any breath or any soul within the body. I’m afraid that—”
“He’s not dead. I’m sure he’s not dead.”
Leon abruptly stood from the chair, cutting the Cleric off mid-sentence. His hair was slightly disheveled, and dark circles clung beneath his eyes as he fixed his gaze on Julien.
He, of all people, knew that there was no way Julien was dead.
The blood… it should’ve worked.
And yet.
Yet…
“I understand where you’re coming from. This case… it is the first time I’ve seen something like this.”
Not offended in the least bit by Leon’s actions, the Cleric shook his head. In fact, he wasn’t even sure why he was called in the first place. He dealt with souls and other related matters. He wasn’t a medic.
Nonetheless, he still complied, considering the status of the people who had called for him.
“…For some reason, the body appears to retain its basic self-sustaining functions, keeping it from decaying. But at the same time, there’s no soul present. For lack of a better term, it’s just an empty shell.”
“I don’t…”
Leon’s expression paled as he shook his head. Even though he himself knew the answer, hearing it from the Cleric felt like a massive dagger to his chest.
He covered his mouth as it opened and closed repeatedly. However, the more he tried to speak, the more he found himself unable to find any words.
In the end, he slumped down on the chair, at a complete loss.
‘How is it possible… I arrived on time… He should’ve still been able to live… it makes absolutely no sense.’
His expression was blank as he struggled to come to terms with the situation.
…He was also not the only one in the room.
There were a few others in the room. Most notably, Atlas and several other higher-ups within the Empire.
News of Julien’s death had yet to be spread. In fact, only a very select few knew about the situation.
“Who has done this?”
Atlas’s voice rang quietly across the room.
When Leon raised his head, he almost felt his body shiver involuntarily as Atlas’s gaze was fixed on Julien.
He didn’t seem either angry or sad.
His expression was just… neutral.
And yet, it was such a neutral expression that seemed to give chills to his entire body.
“We still don’t know.”
Another person answered, shaking their head before turning towards Leon. He seemed to be one of the delegates belonging to the Megrail family.
“He’s the one who has found Julien in such a state. Perhaps he might know something more.”
Atlas turned his head, his yellow eyes piercing right through Leon as he shook his head.
“I… don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Thinking about how Julien found himself in such a situation, he felt at a complete loss. The place he found Julien was completely pristine, with no signs of battle whatsoever. However, recalling the wounds on Julien’s body, he knew that he had been through a lot.
‘Was he teleported elsewhere and brought back?’
That was the only way for Leon to explain the situation.
He wasn’t the only one who felt that this was the case.
But at the same time…
“Considering how pristine his current condition is, I’m afraid that he must’ve dealt with some incredibly ‘mind’ mag—”
“That’s impossible.”
Leon suddenly cut through, arousing the attention of all those present.
Upon realizing what he had done, Leon’s face fell, but he clenched his teeth.
At this very moment, he needed to know who was responsible for this. Sadness and mourning came later. Taking a deep breath, Leon calmed his fluctuating emotions and raised his head.
He then began to recount everything that had happened and how he had found Julien.
“…When I found Julien, he was filled with injuries. The state of his shirt and clothes should be direct proof of this.”
The clothes were all torn and filled with cuts. That alone was enough proof that he had gone through a fight.
Several other people also seemed aware of this, but—
“We also noticed that, but his body is completely unharmed. I’ve also tested his body, and Julien doesn’t seem to have any experimental healing abilities. How would you—”
“It’s possible that the ones responsible healed him in order to hide any traces of their techniques.”
Leon abruptly cut in.
He didn’t reveal to them that he was the one who had healed Julien’s wounds. That was for a very obvious reason. And even if he did, it wouldn’t change much of a thing.
The ones who had done this were extremely careful.
“That’s true…”
Atlas nodded, his gaze unnervingly calm.
“For them to also do it so silently and secretly. They’re not an ordinary group…”
Though he said this, he seemed to have a clue as to who the ones responsible for this were. In fact, he wasn’t the only one.
‘Who did it?’
Leon’s lips quivered as he felt extremely tempted to ask, but he stopped himself as he noticed the figure standing in the corner of the room.
She had been silent the entire time, her face passive and seemingly unaffected by everything.
However, her gaze… it had never once left Julien’s body.
It just lingered there the entire time, her thoughts unknown.
Leon looked at her, his brows furrowing. Taking a look at her, she seemed completely unaffected, and yet…?
“Eh…?”
He blinked.
She was gone.
Vanished. Like she’d never been there.
“What the…”
He didn’t bother looking for her.
Instead, he turned back to Julien’s body—and his expression cracked. He suddenly started to recall everything that the two had gone through together and his chest began to feel heavy again.
Was this really…?
***
“How is the situation?”
Delilah stepped into a modestly sized room, its walls adorned with quiet paintings that seemed to watch in silence. Plush sofas lined the space, and on one of them sat Orson, his expression grave as his eyes met hers.
“Is he…?”
“Yes.”
Delilah answered, her tone cold and even. It almost sounded as though she was completely unaffected by the situation.
“He is dead. There’s no breath in… him.”
“I see.”
Orson closed his eyes and leaned back.
“What a pity. He was so young and talented. Some even compared him to you in terms of talent.”
Orson shook his head in disappointment. Talented individuals like Delilah were extremely rare, and even though there had been several that had been born before, none of them ever matured, with them dying before they could do so.
Delilah was one such talent. If not for him taking her in, she would’ve…
“Are there any clues as to who the one responsible for this?”
“…No.”
Delilah shook her head, and Orson paused as he looked at her. She looked normal at a glance, and yet, something about her felt a little off.
Even though he knew her quite well, this was the first time he had ever seen her act like this.
She was… cold.
So cold. To the point where it felt like the surroundings were about to freeze.
‘I guess she must be in shock.’
Thinking about it, Julien was her responsibility as the Chancellor of Haven. In his mind, Delilah was probably feeling guilty for not being able to save him or notice a thing.
“Don’t beat yourself too much, Delilah. At the end of the day, none of us was able to notice a thing. It’s—”
“I understand.”
Delilah merely nodded her head before heading towards her room.
Orson could only watch as she entered her room and closed the door.
Clank—
His face grew serious then as he took out his communication device and quickly messaged the others.
He needed to get to the bottom of the situation.
*
On the other hand, quietly entering her room, Delilah found herself surrounded by the dark. It embraced her from all sides.
She didn’t bother turning on the light and just sat down, embracing the darkness.
“….”
She sat there in silence, her gaze lost and cold.
The coldness persisted until she retrieved her communication device. Though subtle, her hand quivered as she opened it for the first time in a couple of days.
It was then that she noticed several missing messages.
All belonging from… him.
“…..”
Delilah’s gaze remained cold as she looked at the messages. Opening her lips, she closed them soon after as she pressed onto the messages and read them.
[It was a joke. I’m not actually getting married.]
Such was the first message that she saw.
Her face remained indifferent as it hovered down to the next message.
[…I don’t know why you reacted like that, but I really was just joking. I thought you’d get it, but was I not obvious enough?]
There were quite a lot of texts.
All of them said the same thing, but at the same time, the more she scrolled down, the more the messages changed.
[…Did you see the message?]
He was persistent.
Too persistent.
[I take it you haven’t]
[Are you still mad at me?]
Yes, I am.
[Im going to the Congress today. I’ll try to clear the misunderstanding. I bet you’ll find it funny once this is all over.]
[…So you’re really mad, huh?]
Yes, so stop texting.
[I’m sorry.]
Stop it…
[I—]
Clank!
The communication device rolled down the floor as Delilah’s hand quivered along her face.
The indifference that had been marring her features was long gone, and in its stead was a constant quivering that she couldn’t hide.
Slowly, she brought her hand to her chest as a pain she had never felt before stabbed right through her heart.
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
Delilah’s lips continued to quiver as her gaze eventually fell on the small red diary on her desk.
As her gaze wandered to it, the pain in her chest intensified. And yet… she found herself unable to stop herself from reaching for it, scrolling through it.
Her gaze fell on all the bullet points that she had written.
Some entries even drew a smile from her—though it wasn’t a happy one. The more she smiled, the deeper the ache in her chest grew.
And in the end…
She reached the last page.
“…..”
Staring at the last page, her face grew blank. She planned to fill more of it.
Her plan was to fill the entire diary.
And yet…
That no longer seemed possible.
“A-ah.”
A strained sound left her lips as her hand trembled.
Eventually, reaching out for a pen, she wrote in the diary.
The last ever point.
[● The one I love]
…And the most painful one.