MLHRGD 111

MLHRGD | Time to Wake from the Dream (3)

Posted by Ruby, Released on September 12, 2025

#111. Time to Wake from the Dream (3)

It was the same for dream-Ruslan. He believed with all his heart that the strange dream was reality.

“Time really flew in the blink of an eye.”

Now middle-aged, Ruslan looked back on his life.

Victory after victory!

He had always been blessed since birth, but his life only became truly complete after he met his wife.

His wife—Sasha. Alexandra.

“I never thought she would become this important to me.”

A smile touched his lips.

From the first time he saw Sasha, she had captivated him. She was the woman of his dreams, so perfect that he had been shocked and delighted.

But that joy was short-lived.

She already had a husband.
If she had belonged to another noble, perhaps he could have taken her as a mistress.
But living far away in the northern lands, married to the one man Ruslan could never touch—it had seemed impossible.

“Yet she loved me. To have her, I overcame countless obstacles…”

Obstacles? What obstacles?

Ruslan frowned.

When he tried to recall, the details blurred, as if ink had been smeared across the page of his memory.

“Why can’t I remember?”

He tried desperately, but of course, nothing came.
It was just a dream—an imperfect, fabricated dream.

Not knowing this, middle-aged Ruslan muttered:

“Lately, I forget things too often. I’ll ask my wife to prepare a medicine for my memory.”

Then he noticed something in his hand. A bluish necklace.

“This…?”

When had he gotten it? And what was it for?

Confused, he nearly threw it away—but suddenly, a thought struck him like lightning.

He realized, without any logic or reason, that this was a gift prepared for Sasha.

“I must give it to her at once.”

And in the next instant, he was already standing before Sasha.

“What is this?”

“A gift.”

“Oh my!”

Surprised and delighted, Sasha let him place the necklace around her neck.

“Beautiful.”

“Really?”

Touching the necklace, Sasha blushed shyly.

“Thank you… for the gift.”

Ruslan’s heart swelled. His wife, still as beautiful as ever, smiling at his present—everything he had achieved felt worth it.

‘If only life could continue like this forever.’

But it didn’t.

“From now on, whenever I meet you, I’ll always wear this necklace.”

“…”

“That is… if we can still meet.”

“Aaaaahhh!”

Her eyes turned blood-red, and tears of blood poured down her cheeks.

As the blood splattered on the floor, his entire world twisted upside down.

The happy days were over.

A nightmare began.

Everything Ruslan had built crumbled.

War erupted—not of conquest, but of ruin. This time the empire itself was invaded.

Defeats piled up. Morale collapsed. Support for him inside the empire withered away.

Rebellion broke out.

The empire’s worn-down army couldn’t even defend the palace. Rebels stormed in, and it didn’t take long before they tore open Ruslan’s chamber doors.

“Unhand me! How dare you—!”

He struggled, but the rebels didn’t release him. In their eyes was not respect, but scorn.

“Trash like you ruined the nation and brought misery to the people!”

They threw him into a filthy, cold dungeon.

There, they told him, he would be executed in three days.

Rats squeaked in the dark, keeping him from sleep.

Once time had flown by like an arrow—but now it crawled, agonizingly slow.

In that stretched-out time, Ruslan howled:

“Impossible! This is a dream! It has to be a dream!”

“Huuh!”

Ruslan woke with a start, pupils wide. His breathing was ragged.

“Was that… a dream? Or reality?”

His whole body shook.

The nightmare clung to him, chilling him to the bone.

“What was it again?”

His mind was foggy, but one thing stood out clearly.

“The necklace…”

The memory of giving Sasha a necklace—its shape, its weight, its touch—remained vivid.

Though it had happened only in the dream, Ruslan couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

And so he thought to himself:

“Yes. Yesterday, before she left the palace, I gave her a necklace. She accepted it happily.”

In truth, this was Sasha’s doing.

When she broke his dream-magic, she didn’t stop there.

“An eye for an eye.”

Just as he had tried to disgrace Pavel, she left behind a trick of her own.

That trick was the necklace.

Specifically—

“The appointed time is near. I must prepare.”

She planted an illusion. At the promised place and time, whenever Ruslan saw a woman wearing the blue necklace, he would believe she was his beloved.

But that wasn’t all. Letting him be stood up would have been too small a revenge.

That evening, Ruslan would meet someone…
But not Sasha.

Before Ruslan awoke, Sasha secretly sent gift boxes to various noble households through her spirits.

Inside each box was a blue necklace.

About fifteen noble ladies received them. They were all women who had openly shown great interest in Ruslan—and who disliked Sasha.

Opening the mysterious boxes, the women gasped:

“Wow… such a beautiful necklace. Who sent this?”

Beneath the necklace lay a letter:

I have prepared this gift for you. Meet me this evening in the Rose Palace garden. If you like the necklace, wear it when you come. Burn this letter after reading.

At the bottom was the Crown Prince’s signature—undeniable, famous, unmistakable.

“Prince Ruslan?!”

“The Crown Prince himself?”

Blushing, they burned the letters, unable to hide their giddy smiles.

‘So it was true—His Highness was interested in me! Ah, I will be his Crown Princess!’

All fifteen thought the same, without knowing they weren’t the only ones.

That evening.

“—Sasha!”

Ruslan arrived on time at the garden.

At his call, many heads turned at once.

Different women, in different dresses, but all wearing the same blue necklace.

“Your Highness, I was waiting for you!”

“Prince Ruslan! You came for me, didn’t you?”

“Ruslan, it’s me! Over here!”

They rushed toward him.

Ruslan froze.

“What… is this?!”

His mouth fell open.

“Why are there so many Sashas?!”

Surrounded by women he all saw as Sasha, his confusion was complete.

It was exactly as Sasha had planned.

The necklaces carried a confusion spell, harmless to anyone else—but to Ruslan, already primed with her suggestion, every lady wearing one looked like Sasha.