My Ruin to You - Chapter 66

Roseline barely had time to scan the approaching infected before she stretched out her hand without hesitation. Just as the transparent light pooled in her palm was about to spread outward—

Valen yanked her into his arms.

“What do you think you’re doing alone?”

“If we don’t cast a barrier, we’ll all die here!”

“We won’t die.”

The mana radiating from Valen was unlike anything she had ever felt from him before.

Ah—

The moment Roseline flinched, a red hue flashed in his eyes.

The most intense surge of mana exploded through the street, and in an instant, the entire area was engulfed in flames. Fire spread from the ground to the building walls, even climbing the bodies of the infected as they shrieked and burned.

Gghhk—KIIEEEEEE!

Grotesque screams echoed under the ashen sky. Even the knights seemed stunned by the unexpected turn, staring blankly at the blazing street.

“Why… only now…?”

Roseline’s reaction wasn’t much different. She pushed against his chest and pulled herself free from his arms. The flames that had spread across the street flickered unsteadily as his eyes, tinged with red, flashed sharply for a moment.

“There are exactly two things I can’t control as I please.”

“……”

“You, and my temper.”

She couldn’t think of what to say. The man standing before her was undeniably a familiar face, yet he felt strangely foreign. Still, she understood the lingering weight of his words—that both Roseline and his mana were sources of deep frustration because they refused to bend to his will.

It was commonly known that the imperial family was born with either immense magical power or immunity. Roseline had assumed his nature leaned toward the latter.

If someone distinguished themselves in battle, tales of their prowess would spread like wildfire. Yet while Valen was praised for driving back the barbarians and expanding the borders, there were no stories about his magic. Her vague suspicions had solidified into certainty here. Not only had he repelled her barrier, but no knight of any healing affinity had ever managed to cast a protective spell on him.

“……”

Stealing a glance at him, Roseline attempted to cast a barrier over Valen. As expected, the light failed to take hold, scattering uselessly before fading away. It confirmed what she had realized—Valen was an imperial who had been born with both the strongest magic and immunity.

◇◇◇

By the time they reached the smithy, snow had begun to swirl violently in the air.

The aftermath of the earlier chaos lingered in the smithy, the thick stench of blood stubbornly clinging to the air. The remaining knights had scrubbed away the bloodstains and dragged the headless corpses outside to burn, but the traces of violence still hung heavily in the space.

Anticipating the blizzard, the guild master had sealed the doors tightly. Tables with broken tops and workbenches missing legs—casualties of the fierce battle—were hauled over to barricade the only entrance.

Having just witnessed an entire village reduced to ashes in an instant, the knights’ desperate efforts for survival felt almost futile.

After expending his mana, Valen had regained his senses, but Roseline had fallen ill instead. A high fever wracked her body, leaving her shivering uncontrollably. At least it meant she got to enjoy the luxury of claiming the bed in place of His Highness. A simple self-healing spell would have wiped away something as trivial as this fever, but she couldn’t muster the will to even try. Roseline diagnosed her own condition as sheer frustration.

“Do you plan to keep refusing to use your mana?”

Valen, perched on the edge of the bed with a hand pressed to Roseline’s forehead, quietly pressed her. Funny—wasn’t he the one who had scolded her before for using magic carelessly? She couldn’t fathom why his moods swung so wildly.

“How was it done again…? My education must be lacking, because I can’t seem to remember.”

“The fact that you still have the energy to play word games tells me you’re fine.”

“If I die like this, it’ll be partly Your Highness’s fault—so at least prepare a nice coffin for me.”

Roseline weakly pushed away his cold hand and turned over, her soft hair slipping like silk through his fingers as they lost their place. He let out a sigh, lightly catching the strands before they could fully escape. Then, he turned her back to face him, forcing their eyes to meet.

“If you hate and fear death that much, then stop being stubborn and just say it.”

“……”

“You never ask, so how am I supposed to answer?”