Episode 4
“Cedric, the reason I’m here is because of mana runaway. You, of all people, should know I’m a great mage. We just… met for the first time, yet you recognized my face immediately.”
Anyone born into high nobility is taught the family lines, portraits, political ties, influence, and weaknesses of other noble houses. Faces are something they’re trained to remember.
Even she, who had only been adopted into a noble family, had learned that much—so there was no way Cedric, the sole heir of the empire’s only grand ducal house, wouldn’t know she was a great mage.
You’ve probably heard rumors about me, too. Maybe not the full truth, but still.’
Swallowing the bitterness, Arne forced her dry, scratchy throat to produce sound.
“My mana is extremely unstable. Mana runaway happens often, and when it does, I don’t know what I’ll do. When mana goes out of control, I lose consciousness and sometimes teleport to isolated places without meaning to. Like this.”
Everything except the last sentence was true.
Probably the most believable excuse she could give him.
“Cedric… sir, I sincerely apologize for the great offense I’ve caused. But mana runaway is an accident I can’t consciously control.
I didn’t come here with bad intentions. I’m only half-aware when it happens… to the point where I can’t even remember the date properly.”
She almost called him Cedric out of habit, then hurriedly corrected herself.
The feeling was strange.
‘It’s Cedric, sir, now.’
With a faint smile, Arne met Cedric’s trembling, confused gaze. She waited quietly for his thoughts to settle, staring into his red eyes—the same color as Vivian’s.
You’re probably weighing my words right now. And you’ll feel at least a little guilty.
Destroying someone’s mana core was no different from killing them.
Too severe a punishment for a young noblewoman’s mistake.
Because you’re that kind of man.’
When the war ended, and many lords discarded injured knights to cut costs, Cedric had done the opposite. He kept those who were crippled in battle, promising lifelong rehabilitation and pensions.
That was why so many followed him.
To those who became his people, he promised protection to the end.
And to those who were wounded, broken, or no longer useful, he was even more generous.
‘Especially if it was because of him. Whether it came from loyalty or his own mistake.’
Cedric’s gaze settled on the faint violet glow of the mana core visible on Arne’s chest. Seeing his hesitation, she continued.
“You have a core too, Cedric sir, so you know this already. Forming a core isn’t easy. Most people can only manage it after long years of training, usually at an advanced age. Unless you’re a blessed child who inherited the special talent of one of the Four Founding Families. Like you.”
But sometimes, among ordinary people, some formed a core at a very young age.
People who paid a price greater than time, effort, talent, or divine blessing.
They used their own life force to create it.
For them, the core was their life itself.
Just like Arne’s.
From the mouth that had spoken so many lies, a painful truth finally spilled out.
“I may be called Lady Ronia, but I’m not of Ronia blood. You already know that. That means my core was created by trading my life force.
If you break it any further, Cedric sir, I’ll become nothing more than a beautiful corpse. Would you be willing to show mercy?”
Her voice was hoarse and barely steady, yet her eyes shone with strength.
Many people couldn’t even meet Cedric’s cold killing intent without lowering their heads—but she faced his gaze calmly.
She showed no fear for someone whose life was being threatened.
She wasn’t so pathetic as to lose her dignity as a noblewoman.
Yet there was a respectful humility befitting someone asking for mercy.
Far too elegant a plea—and threat—for the vicious, ignorant villainess the rumors described.
‘…This doesn’t match the rumors. And if I don’t want to deal with a corpse, she’s asking—no, threatening—to end this neatly here. And she’s right. It would be troublesome if she died.’
Daring to negotiate with Cedric of Renigrad—her courage alone was admirable. Enough to tempt even a knight.
‘But, Lady.’
Cedric curved his lips into a smooth smile—and pressed down harder on Arne’s lower abdomen, pinning her completely so she couldn’t move at all.
“I have a male friend. I’ve seen mana run away firsthand. When it happens, people can’t maintain consciousness properly, and their organs are severely damaged. They can barely move. Most importantly, mana forms markings around the core, one by one. But you…”
Cedric dragged his fingers lightly across Arne’s core.
“There are no markings. And you don’t look like you’re suffering that much.”
Arne let out a dry laugh.
You really are yourself, Cedric.
If you swallowed such a flimsy excuse so easily, your reputation as a war demon would be wasted.
“Cedric, sir, my mana core is located above my chest. That means the markings appear below it. Are you saying you intend to check in there?”
Perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to order a young noblewoman to undress—Cedric’s lips pressed tightly together.
Arne didn’t miss the opening.
“That would be extremely rude. I’m already in this situation, but if I were to undress in front of you, Cedric, sir, my honor as a noblewoman would be damaged beyond repair. Do you truly mean to say you don’t trust my words?”
“To me, you’re not a noblewoman. You’re an assassin.”
His icy gaze felt like a northern blizzard.
He was a man once called a living war demon, who didn’t stop even when drenched in blood until his enemy’s throat was crushed.
‘A man who could be endlessly cruel to his enemies.’
Watching him stand motionless again, Arne spoke.
“If my words prove to be true, then what will you do?”
“If you’re truly nothing more than an innocent noblewoman, I’ll heal the mana core I damaged. I’ll also guarantee your safety until you fully recover. If you want today’s events kept secret, I’ll do that as well. Whatever form you wish it to take—if it’s within my power, I’ll protect your honor.”
“And how am I supposed to trust that?”
“I swear on the honor of Renigrad. Renigrad did not drive the innocent to death and then pretend nothing happened.”
“…You must keep that promise.”
Arne’s blazing red eyes locked onto Cedric’s.
Without breaking eye contact, she slowly pulled one end of the black ribbon.
The faint sound of fabric sliding echoed briefly as the cloth covering her chest slipped down.
Cedric couldn’t look away.
The markings that appeared after the mana runaway were never just one.
Below her chest, the markings spread so densely they were impossible to count.
He had heard of it before—those who suffered chronic mana runaway retained markings even in daily life.
But seeing it for himself was a first.
Because such people never lived long.
Yet when he met Arne’s calm gaze as she looked up at him, something stirred inside Cedric—something he couldn’t name.
“…You were so composed, I didn’t realize.”
“I’m used to it. Mana runs away, and…”
Her red eyes blinked slowly, tired and indifferent.
“Being doubted.”
Cedric’s pupils shook.
Her gaze was the same as his own when facing endless assassination attempts—exhausted, fed up, and eventually numb.
“I was born with red hair and red eyes. After repeated mana runaways, my red hair turned white, and now it’s silver. If you look into it even a little, Cedric sir, you’ll easily confirm it. You may already know.”
“I feel like I’ve heard something like that.”
Cedric’s eyes traced her silver hair, her mana core, and the markings below.
In this state, assassination was impossible. She’d been subdued easily just now.
If she truly intended to assassinate him, she would’ve used magic for that purpose before letting her core be damaged. That would’ve been her only real chance.
“Cedric sir.”
Arne blinked slowly. Her gaze drifted to his thick fingers.
“You’ve been staring for quite a while.”
Only then did Cedric come back to his senses and hurriedly pull her clothes back into place.
Realizing how blatantly he had been staring, heat rushed through his body.
“I’ll do it.”
“…Very well.”
Cedric finally removed the hand that had been pressing on her core.
At once, violet mana began leaking rapidly through the cracked core.
As the color of the mana core turned transparent, Arne’s face drained pale.
The sudden loss of mana destabilized her completely.
The markings beneath her chest began to glow.
This time, it was a real mana runaway.
“Ah…”
The trembling that started at her fingertips spread through her entire body.
Arne covered her mouth, but red blood spilled from between her fingers.
Cedric’s pupils slowly dilated.
As he reached out, Arne’s eyes gently closed.
As her consciousness sank, Cedric’s voice echoed.
“Lady Ronia!”
