NRAL | Chapter 87

~Chapter 87~

The Promise I Couldn’t Keep

As always, Eleanor’s loyal knight stood firmly in front of her, without a moment’s hesitation. His hair, blowing in the win,d looked like golden wheat fields under a vast open sky.

“Step back.”

Ernst spoke in a firm, unwavering voice.

Considering that he was a knight employed by House Astria, and Damian was the heir to that very house, his words were shockingly bold.

Yet Ernst didn’t hesitate even as he gripped the wrist of the future heir to Astria. His posture was so confident and firm that Damian, stunned, could only stare blankly at him for a few seconds.

“How dare a mere knight…! Let go of me!”

Damian quickly snapped out of it and began to rage. His own knight, Dante, rushed over in a panic and tried to pry Ernst off.

But neither Damian’s fury nor Dante’s interference could make Ernst budge.

“I will not let go.”

Ernst’s large, rough hand clamped tightly around Damian’s wrist, sending a sharp pain through his arm. Damian winced and glared at him.

The green eyes that met his were sharp and threatening. Until now, Damian had thought of Ernst as having a pretty boy face, but he hadn’t imagined it could look so frightening. He flinched instinctively.

“No matter what happens, not this time.”

Still, Ernst didn’t go so far as to strike him. While he restrained Damian with authority, he knew he couldn’t attack the heir of Astria.

“You lunatic…!”

Realizing this, Damian’s pride flared up again. He clenched his fists and began throwing wild punches at Ernst.

Thud! Thwack!

“Let go! I said let go!”

Even as the punches kept coming, Ernst stood like a stone wall, unmoving. Damian bloodied his own lip and bruised his knuckles, but Ernst stayed planted in front of Eleanor.

“Sir Ernst!”

When blood finally trickled from Ernst’s face, Eleanor grabbed him and pulled him back with all her strength—trying to get him out of Damian’s reach.

But the problem was, Ernst hadn’t expected her to move him, and his body gave way too easily.

As a result, the punch that had been aimed at Ernst swung toward Eleanor instead.

“My lady!”

Ernst stepped forward in panic, but it was already too late to intercept. His eyes widened in despair—meanwhile, Eleanor, even with a fist speeding toward her face, remained perfectly calm.

Damian’s punch didn’t scare her. She had been beaten by people much bigger and stronger back in the orphanage. And even now, she endured lashings that cut her thighs. Compared to that—

If I were scared of this, I wouldn’t have started my revenge at all.

As she slowly closed her eyes, Eleanor began to wonder how she might use the bruise to her advantage.

But for some reason, no pain came.

THWACK!

Despite the loud, echoing sound of impact, she felt nothing.

Suddenly, a familiar scent brushed past her nose.

No way…

It wasn’t unfamiliar. Her heart thudded rapidly in hope. Eleanor’s eyes flew open.

“Oh my god! Young master Damian!”

The first thing she saw was Damian sprawled on the ground. The pain must have been so overwhelming that he couldn’t even scream—his limbs just trembled pitifully.

And standing in front of her was a large man.

“Forgive me, Eleanor.”

The man who had come looking for her, forty minutes early. The one she had an appointment with today.

Karsian.

“I said I’d only act with your permission. I couldn’t keep that promise.”

Crack.

A terrifying sound came from Karsian’s clenched fist, veins bulging beneath his skin. But the sound wasn’t the scariest part.

His red eyes, glowing even in the dim alleyway, were filled with murderous intent. He looked like someone who had gone half-mad with rage.

Even his smallest movements carried overwhelming pressure, and his chilling expression hinted at madness.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to keep that promise going forward. So I ask for your forgiveness.”

With that, Karsian strode toward the collapsed Damian.

Dante rushed to block him in a panic, trying to protect his master, but—

Karsian was far more terrifying than Dante had anticipated. With each step the Grand Duke took, Dante’s legs threatened to buckle.

Is this really worth risking my life—for a brat like him?

The answer was obvious. There was no way to win against Karsian. If he was going to be punished for failing to protect his master anyway, he might as well avoid a beating in the process.

Dante slowly stepped aside, trembling. At least he could still run.

“Ugh, kkh…!”

Meanwhile, Damian let out a moan of pain. His only protector was gone.

It felt like his face had been slammed into a boulder. He had never been hit by a carriage before, but now he imagined it would feel something like this. The world spun around him as red blood started running from his nose.

Was that really a human fist?

His whole head throbbed with pain. Tears streamed down his face involuntarily.

He had always feared the Duke’s fists the most, believing no one could hit harder—but now he knew that wasn’t true.

“Karsian!”

Karsian abruptly stopped mid-step. A small, delicate hand had grabbed the hem of his coat.

“Wait. Just a moment.”

His face was twisted in rage, his teeth clenched tightly.

He knew.

He had a pretty good idea where the scars on Eleanor’s leg had come from—and exactly who deserved to be torn apart for it.

That knowledge made him furious. He wanted to kill every last one of them. But he held himself back, because Eleanor hadn’t given him permission.

Her wishes came first. Her revenge was her right. Taking it away from her would be no better than stealing.

So he had to endure it. No matter how enraged or murderous he felt.

Karsian had sworn this to himself and believed he could uphold it.

But then… he saw Damian strike Eleanor with his own eyes.

I can’t forgive this.

Damian Astria had to die. Not later—now. By his hand.

“Don’t.”

Once again, Eleanor’s soft, small hand held him back.

Karsian froze, his fist trembling. He knew he had to listen to her, but his rage was so overwhelming he couldn’t hear her voice clearly. His eyes kept following Damian.

“You can’t go any further…”

Sensing his condition, Eleanor spoke calmly.

“I’ll allow you one more hit.”

Only then did Karsian’s gaze shift from Damian back to her.

Their eyes met. Eleanor offered a faint smile and added:

“But make sure he can still walk afterward.”

How can she do everything so perfectly?

Even taming a beast like him, she managed flawlessly. Karsian couldn’t help but admire her.

If she had firmly said no, would he have stopped? He wasn’t sure.

But her calmness brought back his sanity.

“…That’s a tough condition.”

His body still burned with fury. The bloodlust was still there. But he managed to grip a sliver of self-control.

“Very well.”

As a result, Karsian reattached the leash he had previously torn around his own neck.

THUD!

“AAAAAGH!!”

A loud, dull impact echoed through the alley, followed by a scream of agony.

***

Karsian kept his promise to Eleanor.

He really only hit Damian once. He even held back enough to make sure Damian wouldn’t be injured. Given the state of rage he’d been in, it was impressive self-control.

But the problem was… his punch was far stronger than an average punch.

Damian was knocked out cold. His nose was bleeding heavily and crooked, his cheekbone already swollen and bruised. Judging by the way it swelled, it might have been fractured.

A little more strength, and he would’ve died.

Eleanor stared at the unconscious Damian and was stunned again at Karsian’s terrifying strength. Then, turning to the knight who still trembled nearby, she issued a command.

“Sir Dante, when Damian wakes up, tell him this: if he tells his father about what happened today, I’ll expose everything about his relationship with Nora.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

“Take him back to the hotel and get a doctor. He might die from blood loss otherwise.”

“Right away!”

Dante bowed low, as if he might kiss the ground, then hurriedly carried Damian away. He kept glancing fearfully at Karsian even as he fled.

The once-chaotic alley finally returned to silence.

Once things settled down, Eleanor turned her attention away from Karsian and looked toward someone much more important to her.

“Sir Ernst! Are you alright?”

Ernst’s face was a mess. His usually flawless skin was bruised and bloodied; his lip was split.

He wasn’t in as bad shape as Damian, but even one small wound on his face made her heart ache.

“I’m fine, really.”

“You’re not! We need to get you treated right away. A doctor—we need a doctor…”

Eleanor, no longer composed, now fluttered around in worry.

Watching from behind, Karsian stepped in to offer a solution.

“Let’s go to my residence. It’s nearby, and we have a doctor on staff. You can receive immediate care.”

He wasn’t referring to the small townhouse where he usually met Eleanor.

He meant the official Royster Grand Duke residence in the center of Cardiff—one that, until now, he had never invited any woman into.

Rumors would surely spread if she stepped foot inside that place. That much Eleanor could already imagine.

But she nodded without hesitation.

“I’m really fine. These injuries aren’t serious…”

“Yes, Karsian. Please take us.”

Ernst’s weak protest was instantly overruled.

Though he clearly didn’t feel good about going to Karsian’s estate, Eleanor’s firm tone gave him no choice.

And so, a carriage carrying two men and one woman left the square under the summer sun.