Chapter 212: Chapter 110.2

Luan grabbed Lia’s arm as she attempted to dive into the forest. The rain was so fierce that visibility was almost nonexistent. Strange gray irises, revealed between damp strands of hair, flickered with anger.

Lia shook Luan’s hand.

“He’s right near Tunnel 4! But he hasn’t come out with the waves. The passage must have been intact before the rain started. So Claude must have moved deeper inside before it collapsed!”

“So what? What do you plan to do by yourself?”

“I have to make sure. If there’s a possibility, I have to find a way somehow! Don’t underestimate me. I may be a woman, but I can do a lot. Luan, please… Find that doctor. You might know who he is. That’s how you can help me.”

“Hah, in the end, you won’t let me protect you.”

“I’ll protect myself. When I need help, I’ll reach out. So Luan…”

Luan, with a stiffened expression, took a step back and wiped his face with both hands.

Then he handed her a small dagger attached to his waist.

“It might be useful in unforeseen circumstances. Take it. And… I’ll attach the hilt for you.

Wait for me.”

“Follow behind. We’ll go this way.”

There was no time to delay. Leaving Luan’s cursing behind, Lia leaped into the forest.

Animals would have dug burrows to hibernate in during the previous winter. Since it hadn’t been long since the weather turned warmer, those burrows were likely still intact. If it were such a place, it would be easier to dig through the earth compared to the beginning of the tunnel. Furthermore, it aligned with the direction of the rain, so the digging speed would be faster.

As she walked along the slope that connected the mine and the forest, checking the acquired blueprint, it happened. Lia was startled and stepped back at the feeling of loose soil under her feet.

It was soil. Red soil, as if it had been dug up and thrown away with a shovel.

She realized she was standing on top of the soil she had disturbed.

It was like a massive beast had churned up the ground and escaped from the chaotic place.

***

Claude clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling his strength gradually returning. If he set his mind to it, he could overpower Marilyn and find out who the accomplice was, but it would be a gamble.

“You were my fiancée.”

Marilyn, who had been sitting next to him as if in a daze, finally spoke.

“Of course not anymore. You promised to marry another woman.”

Claude looked down at Marilyn, who was sitting closely beside him, with a puzzled expression in his eyes.

“Why?”

“My father murdered your father. That’s why you executed my father.”

Heat seeped into Claude’s eyes as he recalled that moment. Still not fully recovered, he wavered his fist back and forth and leaned against the tree.

“But why are you doing this?”

“I’m going to kill you. If not me, then my comrades will kill you. But before that, I wanted to say it. I believe in my father’s innocence… and I genuinely loved you.”

Marilyn, her voice clouded, stood up and pulled out a jackknife from her pocket, kneeling in front of him.

Claude stared at Marilyn absentmindedly. The hand holding the knife trembled, and her face was so pale that it resembled a corpse.

“If I kill you, I will soon kill myself, Duke Ihar.”

“Even so, do you still have to kill me?”

“If it were Doctor Carl, he wouldn’t hesitate. He’s the one who planned this for revenge.

And I’m the same. I lost everything because of you.”

Hot tears streamed down Marilyn’s eyes—tears that were not fake but real. She knew the difference. Marilyn Selby had tried to stop the execution of the Viscount, even at the cost of driving away from Canillia, and she had even gone to the Emperor before her mother’s execution.

If she had been born as a lady who would do whatever it took to save her parents, she would have lived a different life.

“Please forgive me. I will join you soon.”

With her head bowed deeply, Marilyn pressed her forehead against his shoulder, the tip of her knife piercing his nape. However, no matter how slow the speed was…

Claude let out a deep sigh and tried to pry the woman off him.

“Claude…?”

But unexpectedly, a voice that should not have been heard here called his name.

‘Why?’

Claude turned his head in the direction where Canillia’s voice came from. In an instant, the knife fell between his legs.

Marilyn hastily picked up the knife and pointed it at Canillia, rising to her feet.

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Marilyn?”

“Don’t come! Don’t come, don’t come!”

“Calm down. I won’t go anywhere! Calm down.”

“Don’t come. Don’t take a single step! Otherwise, I’ll kill this man.”

As Marilyn’s knife pointed towards Claude, Canillia raised her hands and stepped back.

“Don’t, please!”

“You’re the one who continues to make me miserable until the end, Canillia.”

Claude blinked his eyes slowly as he looked at her standing in the rain. Unbelievably, the real Canillia was standing in front of him.

“Did you save the Duke? If that’s the case, I’m relieved. I’m relieved.”

Canillia’s body slumped onto the mud, as if her strength had left her. Then she took deep, labored breaths and bowed her head deeply. Even without looking, he knew.

Canillia was crying now.

As the heavy rain poured down on her, Canillia remained seated, a hazy mist rising above her shoulders.

Claude looked at her in that state, his stiffened lips moving. The pain in his chest was so intense that it felt like someone was tearing him apart.

“Canillia.”

He uttered her name with a bitter laugh. Then he tightly grasped Marilyn’s hand, which was pointing the knife at him.

“Ugh!”

The knife slipped from the hand that trembled under the excruciating grip. It was a powerful force, as if his wrist would break.

Looking up at the pensive Marilyn, Claude warned her with a fierce tone.

“Since you saved me, I’ll save you as well for the last time. But never appear before me again.”

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