After concluding his lecture, Vanitas called Ezra over as the rest of the students filed out of the lecture hall. Being his student assistant, Ezra helped the professor gather and carry the lecture materials before accompanying him to his office.
When they entered, Silas was already inside, as if awaiting their arrival.
“Just put those on the desk, Ezra,” Vanitas instructed, taking a seat opposite Silas. “Then, sit next to Silas.”
Ezra nodded and followed his professor’s instructions. After sitting down beside Silas, he asked, “What’s this about?”
Vanitas met Ezra’s gaze. “I heard about what happened during the attack.”
“….”
Ezra visibly tensed at the professor’s words but quickly recomposed himself.
“I planned on informing you sooner or later, professor,” he admitted. “I just wasn’t sure when would be appropriate, given she was your student once, if I recall correctly.”
For a moment, Vanitas remained silent. Ezra wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was true that Audelle Pittsburg had been the original Vanitas Astrea’s student during her first year.
“Before we discuss details,” Vanitas began, “you have my condolences regarding your grandmother. As your benefactor, I can help arrange her funeral if you’d like.”
Ezra shook his head slightly. “I don’t need anything special. Just a proper grave, somewhere I can visit later….”
“….”
Vanitas offered no response, reminded that unlike Ezra’s grandmother, Ezra’s parents had been reduced to ashes, leaving no possibility for a funeral or grave.
The silence stretched, but was eventually broken by Ezra once more.
“I assume Silas has already informed you,” he said, gaze alternating from Silas back to Vanitas. “Yes, I took advantage of the chaos and murdered Senior Audelle. I will accept any punishment you deem fit. Strip me of your financial support, withdraw your backing. Do whatever you see fit.”
Ezra paused, breathing deeply, his eyes growing colder.
“But I will not grovel and apologize for my actions. Even at the very end, the Pittsburgs showed utter disrespect toward my grandmother. They threw a mere ten million Rend at my face, as if money alone could justify her life.”
“….”
Silas shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable yet choosing to stay quiet. He wasn’t aware of the full details between Ezra and the Pittsburgs.
“Hey, man,” Silas began hesitantly, voice low. “I understand you think it’s justified… but… Senior Audelle was a kind woman.”
“I know,” Ezra replied flatly.
Silas fell silent again. At first, he had thought Ezra was slowly descending into some kind of psycho, but now, seeing his expression he was making, the internal turmoil was plain to see.
“I hate nobility more than anyone else in this room,” Ezra muttered, exhaling a heavy sigh.
He leaned back on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
“But even I know not everyone’s cut from the same cloth. Audelle… maybe she didn’t deserve it. But what does that even mean anymore?”
He shook his head slightly.
“Call it impulsive if you want. Call it revenge. But what is justice, really? Is it supposed to be fair? Righteous? Because if it is, then I’ve never seen it.”
Ezra continued.
“My grandmother raised me after my parents died. We lived off scraps. She worked until her hands bled just to send me here. And they took her from me like she was nothing. Then they tried to buy my silence. Ten million Rend for an innocent woman’s life.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Do you know what that feels like?”
“….”
Silas couldn’t respond, unable to find the right words to say.
Finally, Vanitas broke the silence.
“I’m not going to punish you,” he said evenly. “I don’t have the right to.”
Both Ezra and Silas looked up at him, confused evident in their expression. Vanitas stood and walked to one of the drawers, retrieving a thick folder of documents. He returned to the table and placed them between the two.
“What’s this?” Ezra asked, frowning. Silas leaned in with him.
“Read it,” Vanitas said calmly, leaning back into the couch and lighting a cigarette. He took a slow puff and watched them through the smoke.
The two began flipping through the pages.
“That’s the woman you murdered,” Vanitas said.
Silas’s brows slowly lifted, and Ezra’s jaw tightened with every page he read.
The documents revealed key information regarding Audelle Pittsburg. In her elementary days, she had become the student council president of the entire elementary batch in Von Edithwald Academy.
She had pushed for an agenda that allowed free education for the unfortunate, funded by the Pittsburgs.
Maybe her parents weren’t genuine, but Audelle Pittsburg clearly was, considering all of the listed efforts and initiatives she had supported. To the point one would say she was doing too much.
In high school, she continued her advocacy. She had organized a cross-campus collaboration with multiple student bodies to initiate a welfare fund for injured knights and struggling scholars.
She regularly visited rehabilitation shelters, donated her own allowance, and personally followed up with students who were removed due to unpaid fees.
Ezra flipped through another page. A handwritten note from Audelle to the board of directors, where she defended a disabled classmate’s right to remain in the magic department despite his prosthetics.
“She…” Silas’s words trailed off.
Ezra didn’t speak. He kept flipping frantically. His heart grew heavier with each sheet.
He remembered a specific instance during his first year at the university tower—when Audelle had backed him up during a heated dispute between a group of nobles and commoners. She had raised her voice then, even when she didn’t need to.
Then, he stopped.
“….”
One page caught his eye. It detailed a campaign Audelle led during her high school days. An outreach project targeted specifically toward the elderly from both the working class and lower nobility.
The initiative focused on magical aid for arthritis and joint degeneration, accessible transport, and state-sponsored pension restructuring. So on and so forth.
Ezra’s hands stilled.
“….”
His grandmother’s words from back then echoed in his head, a conversation from when Ezra was still in high school.
——Don’t worry about it, Ezra. Youth these days… are so kind. Your grandmother can work much better now thanks to those high school kids in the city hall.
“….”
Maybe it was a coincidence. But if that was because of Audelle….
He looked down at the documents again, a haze settling over his eyes as he slowly sank into his seat.
“….I didn’t know,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Neither Vanitas nor Silas spoke. The atmosphere in the room had shifted into something heavier.
“….”
Vanitas’s indifferent gaze shifted from the window, then back to Ezra. For the first time, he looked like he was beginning to break.
“Keep reading,” he said coldly, snuffing his cigarette in the ashtray on the table.
“I… didn’t know.”
“Keep reading.”
“….I’ve made a grave mistake.”
Silas eyed him with concern, his expression tightening. At that moment, Vanitas stood, grabbed the document, and pushed it against Ezra’s chest, forcing him to hold it. His eyes narrowed as sharp as daggers.
“Keep reading,” he repeated, his voice like ice. “You had the nerve to murder her in cold blood and pin it on the attack, yet you can’t even be bothered to learn who she was?”
“….”
Ezra couldn’t respond.
“Keep reading.”
“….”
“Keep reading.”
“….”
Without warning, Vanitas grabbed a fistful of Ezra’s hair, yanking his head up until their eyes met. Ezra looked dazed, his lips slightly parted and trembling.
“I’m not going to punish you,” Vanitas said again, his voice dropping lower. “You’re going to do that yourself. Now read. Read every damn word about the person you killed.”
“P-Professor, he—” Silas started, but froze as Vanitas turned his gaze sharply toward him.
“You’re the one who didn’t approve of what he did and told me,” Vanitas said. “Now you’re backing off?”
“….”
Silas lowered his gaze, his words caught in his throat. He had nothing else to say.
Vanitas looked back at Ezra, whose trembling hands clutched the document tightly. At that moment, a knock at the door shattered the tension.
Vanitas released Ezra’s hair and stepped away, composing himself as he approached the door.
“Who—”
“Ah, Vanitas.”
Standing outside was Charlotte.
Vanitas coughed lightly, adjusting his expression into something softer.
“Charlotte,” he said, voice noticeably gentler. “What brings you here?”
Charlotte’s eyes flicked past him, noticing the two seated on the couch, then returned to her brother.
“You seem busy,” she said. “I can come back later if this is a bad time—”
“It’s fine,” Vanitas replied, stepping aside just enough. “What do you need?”
“I finished drafting the training procedures for the winery facility,” she said, holding up a rolled document. “I was hoping to get your approval and maybe your input on a few details.”
Vanitas nodded. “Alright. I’ll review it after I’m done here.”
Charlotte gave a slow, almost knowing glance toward Ezra, who didn’t even bother regarding her presence.
She didn’t press. “Alright. I’ll wait to hear back.” And handed the document to her brother.
With a quiet nod to Silas and Vanitas, she stepped away and disappeared down the hall.
Vanitas closed the door. Then turned back to the room, the softness in his features gone.
He walked past them and sat down again, his gaze falling on Ezra.
“Now,” he said, low and cold, “where were we?”
* * *
It was time for the agreed meeting date. Vanitas arrived at the Illenia Knights Order base, steadying himself with a slow breath.
If his proposal were to be rejected, then coming all the way here would have been for nothing. But based on what he’d heard Margaret had done on his behalf, rejection didn’t seem likely.
The large gates opened smoothly as he stepped inside. Several knights in uniform were lining the corridor.
One of them stepped forward and offered a polite bow. “Please wait here, Marquess Astrea.”
Vanitas nodded, silently taking in the atmosphere. Despite the talks of financial problems, the Illenia Knights was kept rather clean and pristine. While there was nothing so grand, considering the basic furniture in place, Vanitas could tell Margaret had kept the place rather structured.
It didn’t take long before footsteps echoed from the far corridor.
Grand Knight, Margaret Illenia, finally appeared, clad in full-armor with a cloak draped over one shoulder.
“Marquess Astrea,” she greeted, bowing politely.
“Grand Knight,” Vanitas returned with a nod.
“We appreciate you coming all the way here,” Margaret said. “I’m aware how busy you must be these days.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Vanitas replied, eyes fixed on her. “So, have you decided?”
Margaret gave a single nod. “Yes.”
A tentative silence followed. Then, slowly, Margaret stepped forward.
To Vanitas’s mild surprise, she went down on one knee, lowering her head and placing both hands upon the hilt of her sword, which she had planted into the stone floor before her.
“I, Margaret Illenia,” she declared solemnly, “Grand Knight of the Illenia Order, do hereby swear loyalty to the Marquess Astrea Household. From this day forward, I and the Illenia Order answer your summons, uphold your cause, and stand as your shield until death claims us or you release us from our vow.”
Vanitas raised a brow, lips barely curving. ‘How courteous,’ he thought.
Suddenly, motion stirred within the shadows of the chamber. One by one, knights emerged from the dark recesses of the room. Each dropped to one knee before Vanitas, the sound of armor clinking against the ground echoed in unison.
From above, more figures stepped out onto the stone railings that circled the chamber’s interior. Cloaked knights lined the upper balconies. As one, they knelt as well, raising their fists over their hearts.
A sweeping wave of loyalty filled through the chamber as the full strength of the Illenia Knights Order bowed to Vanitas Astrea, encircling him at the center.
——The Illenia Knights Order are now under your command, Marquess Vanitas Astrea!
The words echoed through the vast chamber as each knight swore in unison.
“….”
Vanitas’s lips twitched slightly, though he didn’t let it show.
This was… a bit too much.
Still, he straightened his posture and gave a silent nod of acknowledgment, letting the moment settle.
Above, the banners of the Illenia Order fluttered in the draft, as if to mark the shift in allegiance.
Whoosh—
…..
The Grand Knight’s office was spacious, lined with iron-forged bookshelves and dark stone walls lit by warm sconces.
Vanitas stood across from Margaret, who had set aside her armor for a more formal uniform.
“As stated in the contract,” Vanitas began, placing a rolled parchment on the desk, “not all knights will reside within the Astrea Estate. They’ll be stationed across all Astrea-owned domains to ensure continued security. Especially the Duchy of Astrea. I expect you to oversee the evaluation and assignments according to what you deem appropriate.”
The Duchy of Astrea was a modest territory, home to a small village and several commercial ventures. Vanitas had no intention of leaving it vulnerable.
Margaret nodded. “Understood. Several knights have already volunteered. I’ve also drafted an initial deployment plan. It includes unit strengths, regional threat assessments, and recommended rotations.”
“Let me see it,” Vanitas said, reaching across the desk.
Margaret handed him a thick leather-bound folder. Vanitas opened it and scanned. The documents were well-organized, with each region paired with assigned units, logistical notes, and local scouting reports.
But there was one particular detail that made him pause.
“I’m not well-informed about all of your capable knights,” he began slowly, closing the folder, “but you, Margaret Illenia, will not be stationed in the Duchy.”
Margaret blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What? But I assumed the Duchy takes utmost precedence.”
“It does,” Vanitas said, folding his arms. “But your place is not there.”
“Then… where?”
“You will reside in the Astrea Estate,” Vanitas said flatly. “And you will serve as my personal knight.”
“Ah, I—”
“Did you already forget your oath?” Vanitas interrupted, his voice. “You swore to stand as my shield.”
Margaret stiffened. “F-Forgive me… Lord Van—”
“And perhaps this is personal bias,” he interjected, “but I prefer you call me Vanitas. Like you used to.”
“I can’t do tha—”
“Then what can you do?”
“….”
The silence that followed was thick. Margaret’s eyes dropped to the floor, her lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came out.
After a moment, she nodded. “Understood, Vanitas.”
* * *
Having already prepared the knights’ residence and given them ample time to organize their transfers, Vanitas returned home.
The moment he stepped inside his chambers, he made his way straight to his drawer, pulled it open, and rummaged through the small collection of pill bottles. With a sigh, he downed several anxiety and stress tablets without water.
“Haaa….”
It was done.
A possible death flag, Margaret Illenia, had been secured. Bound by oath, she could no longer turn against him in the future, should such a thing ever come to pass. Instead, she would protect him and stand by him until death, if it came to that.
A powerful ally. One that most nobles would covet once her true strength soared in the near future.
“….”
And yet, it brought him no peace.
Vanitas stood and walked into the bathroom, twisting the faucet open. Cold water rushed from the basin. He splashed his face again and again, hoping the cold would bring clarity to his paranoia.
Water dripped down his chin and soaked into his collar. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. Tired eyes, dilated pupils.
A man who had done everything right… or so he thought, yet couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still wrong.
Margaret had pledged herself to him. All logical routes pointed to success.
“….”
But his heartbeat didn’t slow. The paranoia wouldn’t leave. His chest still felt tight.
“Haaa….”
He gripped the sides of the sink.
What if this was just the beginning?
What if binding her had only changed the course of his fate?
Perhaps Chae Eun-woo was only now realizing how much more he had to lose compared to before. The anxiety clawing at his chest was far worse than anything he had grown used to in his past life.
He stared at the mirror once more, the sound of water dripping from his face.
“One wrong move….”
His fingers curled tightly over the sink’s edge. But the reflection staring back at him wasn’t his.
“….”
It was Vanitas Astrea, yes—but not the one standing there now.
This version of him was different. The familiar sight of Vanitas Astrea with blood splattered all over his figure, his eyes devoid of emotion.
But the death flags were only one part of the problem.
There was also cancer.
“….”
His thoughts drifted back to the last conversation he’d had with the group of adventurers he had trusted with using the coin Roselyn had completed and passed on to him.
——We’ve uncovered three labyrinths, sir. But they’ve already been explored. The coin is currently recharging.
They had returned the artifact as instructed. As per their agreement, any spoils found would be split 70/30 in Vanitas’s favor—not that there was much to gain from previously plundered ruins.
Still, Roselyn had mentioned that once the coin entered its recharge phase, it would take at least two months before it could be used again.
“….”
At this rate, cancer would catch up to him before the Archives of Haven was ever found.
“Fuck!”
Crackle—!
His fist slammed into the mirror. Shards exploded outward, fragments raining down into the sink as blood dripped from his knuckles, mixing with the water below.
“….I can still turn this around.”