What Became of the Tyrant After the Pregnant Empress Left - Chapter 68

Momentarily captivated by Lena’s inhuman golden eyes, Ysaris quickly regained her composure and asked an important question.
“So, my ability suppresses the side effects of other bloodline powers?”
“Strictly speaking, it’s more like purification than suppression. Most side effects stem from the fact that the power originates from… something cursed. Or, the power wasn’t properly settled in the first place.”
“The origin of the ability? Like the Clan of the Night you mentioned earlier?”
“Let’s not dwell on it.”
Lena’s words trailed off, seemingly changing the subject, but when Ysaris pointed it out, Lena openly dismissed the topic altogether, prompting a sigh from Ysaris.
But still, this was more than she usually shared. Normally, she’d disappear before you could even ask.
Accepting what little information she had been given, Ysaris nodded and spoke.
“That’s a relief. At least, this means Mikael will be safe, right?”
“Probably, yes. But make sure you teach him not to overuse his abilities. It’s still uncertain whether Mikael even possesses Tennilath’s power yet.”
“Yes, Lena. Thank you for everything.”
At Ysaris’s faint smile, Lena scratched her head awkwardly.
“Whatever. The kid needs to grow up well for me to benefit, too. Don’t forget, once he’s running around, I’ll be draining his blood like a mosquito.”
“What kind of experiment are you doing, anyway?”
“Knowing would only get you hurt. Anyway, I’m really leaving now!”
With a resigned shake of her head, Ysaris saw Lena off. As she opened the door, the griffin that had been dozing outside suddenly woke up and shook its head.
“Hi, Pin. Another hard day for you, huh?”
Squawk, squawk!
The griffin affectionately nudged Ysaris with its beak, but a swift punishment followed.
Flick!
“Hey, you, remember who your master is. It’s me, got it?”
Whimper…
Ignoring Pin’s pitiful whine, Lena mounted the griffin, taking the reins. Her expression, as she turned to bid farewell, seemed somehow lighter than when she first arrived.
“I’ll come again soon.”
“Yes, Lena. Safe travels.”
Ysaris, also looking more at ease, waved her off. Lena gave a simple nod before soaring into the sky atop the griffin.
These were endlessly peaceful days, a stark contrast to the increasingly grim state of the continent on the other side of the world.

* * *

The rain drizzled down. Thunder cracked through the dark sky, and lightning struck the earth with a deafening crash.
While most people huddled under blankets, trying to sleep, Kazhan stood in the garden of the empress’s palace, staring at the flowerbeds with a blank expression.
The relentless downpour beat mercilessly against the delicate flowers. Their stems swayed precariously in time with the erratic rhythm of the rain.
“They’ll wither soon enough.”
He wasn’t speaking merely because of the weather. Many of the flowers were already fading, past their season.
Until now, the flowers had been replaced with the next season’s blooms before they showed signs of wilting. But ever since he killed the gardener last month, the upkeep had fallen behind.
“Did I not post a notice for a new gardener?”
Kazhan tried to recall, pressing his hand to his throbbing temple. Rainwater dripped down his arms and hands.
He was exhausted. Physically, he had long since reached his limit, and mentally, he’d been teetering on the edge for far too long.
It had been one year and ten months since Ysaris disappeared. The season they last spent together had come around for the second time, yet Kazhan remained stuck in the same place.
It felt as if he were chasing a rainbow—always out of reach.
Ysaris’s whereabouts, and the truth behind the attack, felt like distant illusions. All Kazhan could do was drown in the memories of their time together, trapped in the past.
“Yssa…”
Kazhan had nightmares every night. He saw visions. He heard voices.
It wasn’t unusual for him to imagine Ysaris’s gruesome end. Sometimes, the people he killed would morph into her, and she would come after him, cursing and trying to kill him.
Once, he nearly strangled himself, unable to distinguish between reality, hallucination, and dreams. Since the marks weren’t visible to others, he treated himself using Tennilath’s method, but the symptoms driving him mad only worsened.
“…Come back soon.”
‘And kill me. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?’
His unpinned bangs fell over his face, drenched by the rain. Water endlessly streamed down from his soaked hair.
Kazhan lived in contradiction. He wanted to live for Ysaris, yet at the same time, he wanted to die. He insisted she was still alive, while avenging her death. He searched for her traces, but didn’t hope for the outcome.
Everything was a mess. He, and his life.
“I can’t… anymore.”
In the rain-soaked world, his dry voice cracked. His footsteps sloshed through the garden.
He needed to end it. One way or another.