The moment my eyes opened, I felt a sharp, stinging pain on my cheek as my head snapped to the side. The slap resounded, lingering in the silence. My mouth dropped open as disbelief took over—I was stunned by what had greeted me. I blinked, trying to make sense of everything, my gaze quickly darting around to take in my surroundings. Great. I’m here again. So… I’m dead?

Biting my lip, I turned my attention to Celestia, who was standing over me with an intense, furious glare. “If only I could kill you again, I would have done it without hesitation!” she snapped, her voice seething with irritation. It was clear from her expression that she was utterly displeased with the situation. She looked as if dealing with me was the last thing she wanted to do.

I scratched my nose, trying to ease the tension with a nonchalant gesture. “What do you want me to do about it? It’s not like I’m immortal,” I said, attempting to justify myself. Her eyes narrowed, filled with annoyance.

“You got complacent, and look what happened—you died again. My goodness! It’s the same thing over and over!” she scolded, her voice dripping with exasperation as if I were a hopeless case she had to deal with repeatedly.

Rolling my eyes, I replied with confidence, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just come back to life again, right?” my tone was light, dismissing the gravity of the situation. She scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest, and her glare only deepened.

“Listen,” she began with a serious tone, “do you remember the person who killed you in your previous life?” her voice had taken on an edge, and her eyes studied me intently.

A frown formed on my face as I recalled the events. Yes, it was still vivid in my memory, as if it had just happened.

I nodded, my expression growing grim. “After he killed you,” Celestia continued, “he took his own life.”

My mouth fell open in shock. “Seriously? No doubt he was a complete psycho,” I muttered, trying to process what I’d just heard.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I asked with disinterest, “So, what’s with him?” It’s not like I was particularly interested in the details—he was dead, after all. I had a new life now, and besides, if I wanted, I could always return to my former life.

“That psycho killer… he sold his soul to a devil,” she said slowly, carefully watching my reaction, “to fulfill his ultimate desire. And do you know what that desire was?” She paused for a moment, her gaze piercing.

My brows knitted together in confusion. He sold his soul? I thought, feeling a chill run down my spine. Damn, he really was a psycho.

“Before he fully lost his life, he swore a vow… he promised that he would follow you, no matter which life you had in your next reincarnations,” she revealed. Her words struck me, leaving me frozen in place. A strange fear crept up my spine, and goosebumps rose on my skin. How could he have reached such an extreme? What had I ever done to him to make him so obsessed?

“Why?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper as if lost in deep thought.

Celestia sighed heavily. “He blames you for his grandmother’s death… His grandmother was incredibly fond of your novels. She became so engrossed in reading them that it overwhelmed her heart, and she had a heart attack. She was already very old,” she explained, her tone laced with regret.

My jaw dropped, the shock almost paralyzing. My mind struggled to process her words as an overwhelming sense of guilt began to sink in. My heart raced as a whirlwind of emotions took over. The idea that my novels—my passion—could have contributed to someone’s death left me feeling like my world was crumbling. My knees felt weak, the weight of the realization pressing down on me. Was it my fault? Had my stories caused someone’s death?

“S-she died? Can you tell me it wasn’t my fault?” I whispered, a tremor in my voice as I pleaded for reassurance. My lips quivered as I struggled to accept the possibility. How could that be? I never asked her to read my books.

I flinched as Celestia took hold of my arm, gently rubbing it, as if she were coaxing me back to reality. Her touch brought a sense of calm, and slowly, I felt myself relax. “Relax,” she said softly, her tone carrying a warmth that surprised me. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill her. Readers always have their own choices; they hold some responsibility for how they let a story affect them,” her voice was filled with concern, genuine and soothing.

I looked up and met her gaze, those eyes calm and steady, giving me a strange sense of comfort. I pressed my lips together, absorbing her words. Somehow, what she said offered me a small relief, a much-needed reassurance.

“As for the killer’s case,” she continued, “if he were a person with a sound mind, it would have been absurd for him to kill you over such a reason. But he had a personality disorder—he was a psychopath. Psychopaths often fixate on a source of their suffering, especially if they feel personally wronged, no matter how irrational it may seem to others.”

She paused, her expression thoughtful. “To him, his grandmother was everything—his only ally, the one person who supported him in his dark world. When she died, he was devastated, and he put all the blame on you.”

Her explanation left me stunned, and I fell silent, sinking into deep thought.

“Psychopathy is… complex,” she continued, as if trying to help me understand the killer’s twisted perspective. “It’s a disorder that usually comes with certain traits—an absence of empathy, shallow emotions, impulsivity, sometimes even manipulation. They’re driven by a need to control, and when they feel wronged, they often can’t rest until they find someone to blame.”

A chill ran through me as I tried to process what she was saying. “So, they don’t really feel guilt…?” I asked quietly, trying to wrap my head around it.

“Not in the way most people would,” Celestia confirmed, her tone unwavering. “Psychopaths often lack a sense of guilt or remorse, no matter the harm they cause to others. They’re aggressive and driven by their own sense of ‘justice,’ taking matters into their own hands. It’s as if their minds work differently, calculating yet emotionally empty, so they don’t see things the way we do. For him, there was no one else to blame but you.”

Hearing her explanation, I felt a strange mixture of relief and dread. While it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness for the twisted way his mind worked. He had loved his grandmother so deeply, yet his illness had turned that love into something dark and obsessive, until it ultimately consumed him.

Celestia watched me, perhaps noticing the troubled look on my face. “People like him… they often live in a constant state of turmoil,” she said gently, her hand still resting on my arm as if to ground me. “Their pain drives them to actions most of us can’t comprehend. But remember—you didn’t ask for any of this. You wrote stories, and the choice to read them, to feel them deeply, was hers.”

I nodded, feeling her words sink in. The weight on my chest lifted just a bit, and I took a slow, calming breath.

If he really sold his soul just to follow me, does that mean he’s in the empire? I whipped my gaze toward Celestia, the unsettling realization dawning on me. “Tell me. Is he in the empire?” I asked, my voice tense with worry. Just the thought of him being nearby made my knees weak. The trauma resurfaced, and it felt as though my entire being was trembling.

“Yes, and he’s one of the concubines. He transmigrated too, into a woman’s body, just like you… and he’s the reason you died again earlier,” she revealed, and I froze. He transmigrated too? I pressed my lips together, trying to digest this twist. Could it be Lilieth? I remembered how she had tortured me; she was completely different from the Lilieth I had known before. Even though she hadn’t exactly been kind, I never expected her to go to such brutal lengths.

Or could it be Anastasia? She’d shown her true colors as well, but she was imprisoned. My eyes widened as a new thought struck me—could it have been Anastasia? Given the knights who betrayed me and slaughtered everyone in the palace, they could’ve been her allies, meaning she might have escaped the dungeon.

“Was it Anastasia?” I asked, my curiosity now piqued. Celestia raised an eyebrow at me. “Figure it out yourself. I can’t just tell you. The old man will kill me for spilling it. You’re smart, or you could just kill both of them. That way, you’d be free in both worlds, and if you return to your former life, no one will be there to hunt you down.”

My jaw clenched as frustration bubbled up. Seriously! Why couldn’t she just tell me? But she was right. There were only two concubines to suspect. Maybe I was scared, but I almost forgot—I’m different now. I have power, and I can protect myself… well, most of the time.

I paused as another thought struck me and turned back to Celestia. “How did he even find me? Does he really know that I’m Adil?” I asked, curiosity laced in my tone.

Celestia nodded. “Yes, he’s pretty powerful. He has the ability to see your soul inside my body.”

I gaped at her words, blinking in disbelief. That’s so unfair! He has a power like that? I sighed in frustration. “So, he has a power, and all I can do is die and come back to life… Is that even an advantage?” I asked, my annoyance clear. Fine, if he kills me again, I’ll just keep coming back to kill him in return.

Celestia shook her head slowly. “No, don’t see it as an advantage. Oh, I forgot to mention—you only have two lives left. So, don’t waste them,” she said, hissing through her teeth.

I stared at her, stunned, my hand automatically flying to her cheek. I slapped her hard, causing her face to tilt. My jaw clenched, anger boiling in my chest.

She glared back at me, clearly ready to yell, but I beat her to it. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” I shouted, my voice thick with fury. Her eyes widened.

“My goodness! I forgot, alright?!” she yelled back at me.

I took a step back, squeezing my eyes shut in frustration, slapping my palm against my forehead. Damn it, how could she forget something so crucial? This is absurd!

"Send me back!" I shouted into the void, my voice cracking with frustration. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my chest and I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut, my hands clenching.

As I opened my eyes, the sight of the ceiling in my chamber greeted me. Instantly, I felt a tightening in my chest, forcing me to sit up abruptly, gasping for air. My hand went instinctively to my chest, feeling the fierce pounding of my heart. The sensation of my blood pulsing through my veins as if awakened from a long slumber was both overwhelming and oddly new.

"Your Majesty?!" A startled voice rang out, and I quickly turned towards the source. It was Sarah, her eyes wide and swollen, clearly from crying. She blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes as if doubting what she saw. When she looked at me again, her eyes widened in shock. "Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, and before I could react, she rushed toward me, wrapping me in a tight embrace.

A soft smile crossed my lips as I returned her hug. Her muffled sobs echoed in the silence of the room. "Your Majesty, akala namin... a-akala namin patay ka na," she managed to say, her words broken by her tears.

My expression turned solemn. Right, I cannot afford to waste this life again. I must be more careful, more vigilant.

Our heads snapped towards the door as it suddenly swung open. Sirena entered, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Your Majesty?!" she called out, her voice trembling. She approached us slowly, her gaze fixed on me in amazement. "You're alive!" she whispered, as though she could hardly believe it herself. Then, without another word, she spun around and dashed out of the room, likely to spread the news.

Once I had regained my strength, I decided to head to the dungeon myself. My suspicion was confirmed upon arrival—Anastasia was gone. This revelation confirmed my darkest suspicions: she was indeed aligned with our enemies.

"Did you manage to capture the person who attacked me?" I asked Lyra, my gaze sharp as I awaited her answer. She shook her head regretfully. "No, Your Majesty. According to Adrena, it was a woman. She tried to pursue her, but the trail led straight to the enemy’s territory," she reported. The woman beside her stepped forward, bowing with genuine respect. "I apologize for failing to capture her, Your Majesty," she said, her voice filled with remorse.

I observed her closely, noting the earnestness in her apology. "So, she has found refuge in the territory that the Emperor’s forces are currently engaging in battle, correct?" I asked, my tone laced with calculated intent.

"Yes, Your Majesty," she affirmed.

A sly smile curved my lips. So, it seems she truly allies herself with our enemies. "Prepare for departure," I ordered, my voice carrying an edge of finality. "We will head to His Majesty's location and join the war." They all bowed quickly, scurrying off to make the necessary preparations.

Enough innocent lives have been lost, and now, their end is imminent. They will pay for the blood they have spilled. As for Anastasia... she will soon have her reckoning and, without a doubt, meet the devil once again.