My Ruin to You - Chapter 73

“Ah, Roseline.”

Valen studied her for a long moment before exhaling sharply through his nose, pressing his fingers to his temple as if she were the most infuriating puzzle he’d ever encountered—obedient one second, defiant the next.

“And you think that’s the right answer?”

A faint, twisted smile curled his lips, barely concealing the irritation simmering beneath. Behind him, the guild master and knights shook their heads subtly, warning her not to provoke him further. But something inside her had already snapped—all the patience she’d forced herself to swallow now boiling over.

“Every choice is the wrong one at this point, so what else can I do? Fine. I was terrified of leaving the city walls anyway. Might as well stay here, burn through my magic until my nose bleeds and I pass out a few times. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even turn into one of the infected by then.”

Only after the words spilled out did she realize—Ah. So I was afraid.

Of course, anything was better than waiting to die in this isolated hellscape. But at least here, she had a clear purpose: survival.

Beyond the walls? She’d be adrift—a buoy bobbing uselessly around Valen’s orbit, only to sink the moment he let go.

“Let me say my farewells now, then. Farewell, Your Highness.”

With exaggerated grace, Roseline gathered her skirts in both hands and dipped into a deep, mocking curtsy—knees bent, toes pointed, smile painfully polite. Then she spun on her heel.

It was pure spite.

She knew Valen wouldn’t simply sigh and let her walk away. Knew provoking him was pointless. But reason and emotion had long since parted ways—and that was the problem.

“Stop.”

The crunch of snow underfoot ceased. That single word, colder than the season itself, froze her mid-step.

“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I?”

Valen tilted his head slowly. A sharp crack of bone echoed as his gaze locked onto her—eyes glinting with something unreadable and dangerous. The weight of it prickled down her spine like the tip of a blade tracing her vertebrae.

And her traitorous conscience whispered: He’s not wrong.

If “spoiling” meant safety, then yes. Never mind that just yesterday she’d been dragged around in chains—the greatest threat to her these past days hadn’t been the infected.

No, this reckless defiance might very well be an illusion born from the safety she’d taken for granted in Valen’s shadow.

“Should’ve trained you better.”

Valen let out a sharp laugh as he watched her stubborn retreat. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as his gaze swept over the charred ruins around them. Then—just as a crimson hue flickered in his steel-gray eyes—a pulse of raw mana rippled outward, etching thin, glowing lines across the air.

CRACK—BOOM.

A skeletal building collapsed in on itself, sending up a plume of ash. Debris rained down, scraping against the frozen ground. Roseline, the guild master, the knights, even the survivors—all stood frozen, horror dawning on their faces.

“Now,” Valen said, his voice flat, devoid of inflection. “Say it again.”

Roseline whirled around, fists clenched. Behind her, Rudy began to wail, and in the distance—thud, scrape—something stirred in the shadows. Whispers of What do we do? and We’re doomed rose among the survivors. The knights tightened their grips on their weapons, faces grim.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing—?”

Amid the chaos and terror, only one man stood untouched—the same man who had summoned this hell with a flick of his will.

“You insane—” Roseline’s voice was barely a whisper, half-dazed.

“Still not the answer I want.”

Valen showed no mercy. Another building—this time at the far end of the street—lurched sideways with a deafening crash. Beams splintered, pillars snapped. Shattered glass screamed as it rained onto the snow.

Thud. Thud-thud.