Chapter 6. A Breakwater Against Misfortune
“Here is the information you requested. I’m sorry. Since she wasn’t very active, there isn’t much.”
“This is more than enough. Thank you.”
Damion smiled in satisfaction as he received the materials from the butler, Nouvelle. Once Nouvelle quietly left the room, Damion unfolded the documents.
Rein Arel.
That was the name the woman had lived under for a year.
Her current residence: a shared apartment in Wort Street, Saul Province, in the southern region.
Her place of work: the estate of Viscount Jiden in the South, serving the viscount, his wife, and their son and daughter.
Financial status: poor. She had even incurred significant debt to pay for the countess’s medicine.
“The interest is more than the principal.”
He understood there were few places one could urgently borrow money from—but it seemed she’d fallen prey to someone especially malicious.
Damion briefly raised his eyebrows, then casually turned the page.
The file also contained records from her time as Anshi de Rubelsa. Who she spent time with, what she liked, what kind of personality she had. As he skimmed through it, the corners of his mouth lifted.
The thought of using this woman made him genuinely delighted.
“At last, I can claim my due, Colonel Rubelsa.”
His low murmur spread through the room.
He recalled the face of Colonel Rubelsa as he had once stood before him—looking both resolute and terrified when he made that request.
“Save the Countess Rubelsa—my wife.”
It was a conversation Damion had heard while serving under the colonel.
The colonel had said his wife would throw herself into the Benu River. And it wasn’t just a hunch—he had described when and where it would happen in precise detail.
As if he were making a prophecy.
Honestly, Damion had doubted it—ninety percent of him had dismissed it outright.
Though the nation had many gods, including the central deity Liento, Damion considered them nothing more than a source of spiritual comfort.
Prophecies, too, were nonsense in his eyes.
But the remaining ten percent of belief made him ask a question instead of dismissing the claim entirely.
“If that’s true, Colonel, why don’t you go yourself?”
“I have a bad feeling. I can’t be certain I’ll still be alive by then.”
The colonel’s expression had been dark. He wasn’t someone prone to making things up. So, in the end, Damion accepted the proposal.
“I promise to save your wife. In return, you must not tell anyone else about this. We have to minimize any variables.”
“Thank you. If I’m not there when it happens… could I entrust my family to you? In exchange, I’ll give you a portion of my estate.”
Damion made sure to secure a written statement confirming his share of the inheritance.
But in the end, he couldn’t receive any payment. The colonel died in battle a few days before his wife’s suicide attempt, and all his property was seized.
Naturally, Damion had no claim to any inheritance.
He had no reward, and the whole thing had seemed too ridiculous to believe. Yet he couldn’t shake the discomfort of breaking a promise to the dead.
So Damion headed to the capital’s Benu River.
And there, he realized the colonel had been telling the truth.
A frail middle-aged woman stumbled down the bank and threw herself into the water without warning.
“Damn it.”
With a short curse, Damion jumped in after her.
Luckily, the countess appeared physically unharmed when he pulled her to shore—her eyes simply hollow.
Looking into those lightless eyes, Damion was suddenly overwhelmed by fear.
It was a fear he had felt once before.
“Are you alright?”
People were now running over, shouting frantically.
Damion quickly slipped away.
It was only then that the colonel’s words hit him with full force. The secret of the Rubelsa family, as he’d explained, became clear.
“The heir of Rubelsa… can foresee mortal danger befalling their soulmate. And by stopping it, they can change the future.”
“And what do you pay in return, Colonel?”
To foresee danger—it was a fascinating ability. But every gain came with loss. There was no changing fate without cost.
“The price… is my lifespan.”
“…!”
“It’s the bearer’s decision. If they do nothing, nothing happens. But the moment they try to change the future, they instinctively feel it. The approach of their own death.”
After returning from saving the countess, Damion investigated the average lifespan of Rubelsa heirs.
Indeed, they tended to die young. Every heir to the countship had, and even the count’s children fit that trend.
Perhaps… Damion thought, he could claim the price the count had never paid himself.
Anshi de Rubelsa.
The Count of Rubelsa’s daughter.
If she too could prevent her partner’s misfortune—
At the time, it had only seemed like a possibility. So when Anshi disappeared, he didn’t feel too much regret. Just a vague sense of loss.
But a few months ago, as bullets rained down upon him—targeting only him—he realized something.
It had been an inside job. Someone on the battlefield had used the situation to try and kill him. And that someone had been sent by Kardian de Orphet—his brother.
“Kardian’s toy.”
That was all Damion had ever been in the Duke of Orphet’s household.
For Damion, enlisting had been a good excuse to escape that role.
If he could disappear from Kardian’s sight, maybe he could finally find meaning in his own life.
Away from Kardian’s watch, Damion built his foundation. He pushed himself hard enough to exist even without the Orphet name.
Freedom still seemed out of reach, but perhaps, with just a bit more effort, he could see it.
But to Kardian, a toy with no use was just something to be discarded.
What easier place to kill someone than a battlefield?
The subordinate who tried to kill him confessed to Kardian’s plot before taking his own life. Not to see Kardian punished, but to relieve his own guilt.
From then on, Damion saw all comrades as enemies. He could no longer trust them with his back.
So he left the army and returned to the capital.
Kardian welcomed him with a smile.
“Welcome back, Mion.”
Welcome back, to being my toy.
Both Damion and Kardian knew that was what he really meant.
That day, Damion made a decision.
He would reach the top of Orphet—
To the position where he could decide his own worth.
And for that, he needed Anshi de Rubelsa and her power.
So that even if he bared his fangs, no one could kill him.
So that he could live, survive, and win what he desired.
That ignorant woman would think this was a rope of salvation.
But if she was born with such a fate, then she should use it—for him.
“Anshi de Rubelsa.”
The breakwater against his misfortune.
He hoped the brief peace he gifted her would become a happiness so great that she’d willingly offer her own lifespan for it.
With that sincere hope, Damion closed the folder on Anshi.
* * *
Anshi ran into Trishy, the viscount’s daughter, on the very morning she was supposed to meet that man.
“Rein.”
Trishy called her name as she spotted Anshi trying to exit through the back door for the day. Anshi turned and bowed her head.
“I’m going on a picnic. You’re coming with me.”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I have plans after work, so you’ll need to take a different maid.”
Trishy’s expression hardened at those words. She folded her arms, staring at Anshi with clear displeasure.
There was no order to dismiss her. Trishy turned her head away with a pout and walked toward the front gate.
“You can’t leave now. Rein has to help me with my picnic today.”
Her light yellow picnic dress fluttered in the breeze.
Despite her whim, the handmaid next to her waved for Anshi to hurry and follow.
Anshi didn’t sigh. Instead, she quietly followed behind, calculating the time left until her meeting.
Three hours. She still had time. Rather than refusing outright, it was smarter to go along for now.
The picnic site was a beach about ten minutes away by carriage from the viscount’s estate.
While Trishy smiled brightly walking along the soft sand, Anshi plated the refreshments on a mat.
On several plates decorated with fine floral patterns, she arranged fruit, sandwiches, and cookies in neat groups. Her efficient hands left the setting beautifully organized.
But when Trishy returned, she frowned deeply and sighed in irritation.
“These are the cookies I hate. Didn’t you check beforehand?”
Anshi hadn’t prepared the refreshments, but Trishy’s scolding gaze was aimed solely at her.
It wasn’t unexpected. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.
She knew it was just another excuse to vent her frustration.
Anshi bowed her head instinctively.
Just hoping this moment would pass quietly.
