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Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 227

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  2. Come and Cry at My Funeral
  3. Chapter 227 - Burned portrait
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Burned portrait

At first, it seemed as though the rebels were gaining the upper hand.

Centered around the Kreiter territory, the rebellion was fiercer and more intense than any previous conflicts, and the frequent appearance of monsters made the situation worse by the day.

However, the place that truly went up in flames was somewhere unexpected.

“Urgh…!”

“To think you’ve been hiding here all this time.”

The island fortress where Canopus had been stationed was engulfed in thick smoke, burning fiercely.

Canopus, having hurriedly returned through the ‘rift’ where monsters emerged, found the place already decimated. His subordinates had long been slaughtered by the knights’ swords.

And the man leading those knights—his black hair matted with sweat—stood with a blood-soaked sword in hand. Blood trickled in thin streams down his pale face.

Canopus’s twisted smile deepened as he glared at his half-brother, who stood before him like a grim reaper.

“Izar…”

The man who should have gone to the Kreiter territory was standing right here.

‘I have to kill him.’

But Canopus’s sword had been broken during the confrontation moments ago and was now stuck in the ground like a gravestone. With the broken sword lying between them, Izar looked down at the silver-haired man who had fallen to his knees.

“Did you have fun playing savior?”

“Keugh… haah…”

“You filthy bastard. You really had everyone wrapped around your finger. Truly impressive.”

Izar had deliberately spread the false rumor that he was heading to the Kreiter territory before redirecting south.

When he announced his intent to search the location where previous search parties had failed, there had naturally been opposition. But Izar had gone there anyway, following the last clue Freesia had given him.

As a result, he had discovered a cluster of islands in the southern seas that weren’t marked on any map.

‘There was a reason the search parties couldn’t find it.’

Most of the year, the island was hidden by dense sea fog, only becoming visible at the start of the year when the wind direction changed.

What’s more, Canopus had skillfully masqueraded as a ‘priest of divine power offering blessings for free’ in the nearby coastal villages.

Thus, the locals had kept their mouths shut about his whereabouts and the island that only appeared during specific seasons. In their eyes, the silver-haired man was ‘the true apostle of Adamant’.

“But in the end, you’re just a worm.”

Izar spat the words at the blood relative who deserved to die. He wished for nothing more than for Canopus to disappear from his life—and to die the most miserable death possible.

If only this bastard hadn’t been born, perhaps their father would have been able to convince their mother.

If that had happened, maybe his life would have been different…

Regardless, the place Freesia had directed him to hadn’t been his grave.

‘I’ve been forgiven.’

His heart pounded with intense joy.

Now he could go back. He would kill this bastard, clean everything up, and dedicate his life to staying by her side, ensuring she was never hurt again.

“Your subordinates stationed near the Kreiter territory are already finished,” Izar said.

“Hah…”

“Now, it’s your turn.”

“Ugh!”

Before Canopus could react, Izar’s sword moved so fast it was a blur, pinning his left shoulder to the wall.

Writhing in agony, Canopus glared at his half-brother with his remaining eye.

‘This monster of a man…’

Despite his cold expression, Izar’s ability to slaughter monsters was nothing short of ferocious. No wonder some had dubbed him the ‘Dark Reaper’ among themselves.

“Haha!”

But Canopus, blood dribbling from his lips, managed to lift his head and smile grimly.

“You left Freesia behind to come after me yourself, even when she’s pregnant. Oh, I’m honored.”

“……”

“And aren’t you something, brother? What makes you so sure of what happened between me and Freesia?”

“……”

“And how can you be so sure that the baby she’s carrying is yours?”

Slice!

Izar’s sword twisted sharply within the wound, tearing apart muscle and flesh. Despite the gruesome sound and the excruciating pain, Izar’s face remained chillingly emotionless.

But his eyes burned like a cursed star, glowing with hatred.

“Go on, keep talking.”

“Ugh… agh…!”

“I said, keep going. I even gave you permission, didn’t I?”

Izar’s lips curled upward, but it wasn’t a smile—it was distorted by rage and anguish.
Hadn’t he already considered the possibility Canopus was suggesting?

‘It doesn’t matter.’

Even if the child in Freesia’s belly belonged to another man, he didn’t care. Even if the baby had silver hair or those detestable red eyes that begged to be ripped out, he would still hold onto them.

As long as the child carried Freesia’s blood, he would overlook everything.

But knowing his despair, and seeing his half-brother grinning through the pain, filled Izar with disgust.

“Ha, so you want me to say it, huh?”

With blood dripping down his body, Canopus’s eyes gleamed maniacally.

“Freesia’s tears are what drive people insane. You should know that better than anyone, right?”

“You…!”

“When I saw her, I realized you and I really do share the same blood. It made me sick.”

 

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    Tags:
    Abusive Characters, Aristocracy, Arranged Marriage, Depictions of Cruelty, European Ambience, Family Drama, Female Protagonist, Misunderstandings, Obsessive Love, Past Trauma, R19, Regression, Regretful ML, Revenge, Sickly Characters, Swords & Magic, Terminal Illness, Time Limit

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