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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: TushChen
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After roughly finishing my discussion with Caiden, I left the dueling room when a trembling cry was heard from somewhere.
“Senior!”
As expected, a girl with azure hair stood before me, panting.
Her reddened eyes and the teardrops clinging to the ends of her long eyelashes spoke of her emotional state.
She looked pitiful at a glance, but that delicate appearance was a disguise.
The tingling sensation rushing over me betrayed the killing intent hidden behind her tears.
That killing intent was clearly directed at Caiden, who was still in the dueling room.
“Are you okay, Senior? Does it hurt?”
Livia approached me lightly and spoke with a voice slightly mixed with tears.
Her azure eyes were filled entirely with me.
Those moist eyes were beautiful.
For a moment, it made my heart ache.
Her appearance was so mesmerizing that I might have fallen for it if I didn’t know Livia’s true nature.
“It’s just a small cut.”
I casually wiped away the blood flowing from the wound on my cheek.
Then I watched Livia’s favorability towards me increase for the reason: [Toughness].
Her expression, changing moment by moment, showed she was genuinely worried about me.
Even if everything else was a lie, this feeling Livia had for me wasn’t false.
Knowing the truthfulness of that emotion, I didn’t feel comfortable setting a trap using Livia’s feelings.
‘But I can’t let her kill Yuria either.’
I turned my eyes away from the slightly pricking feeling in my heart.
Livia wouldn’t be persuaded by anything I said right now.
I had no choice but to use another method.
Since Caiden had wounded my face, Livia’s primary target should have shifted from Yuria to Caiden.
For now, the possibility of her immediately harming Yuria had decreased.
“…If only I had learned how to heal wounds.”
Instead of killing people, Livia regretted not having learned healing as she reached out her hand.
In fact, it wasn’t that she hadn’t learned it, but that she couldn’t use it in the first place.
Even magic could heal minor wounds, but Livia couldn’t use it for some reason.
Livia reached out to my face as if she genuinely regretted it.
I gently caught her hand before it could touch my cheek.
Livia flinched greatly and looked up at me.
“Senior?”
I looked into Livia’s eyes and spoke nonchalantly.
“I’ll take care of it myself. You know I can.”
Livia seemed to understand the meaning of my rejection and bit her lower lip slightly.
But the next moment, Livia opened her lips roundly and smiled brightly.
“Oh, Senior~. Then I don’t need to worry, right?”
The corners of Livia’s eyes trembled slightly.
To a degree, that would have been unnoticeable if I hadn’t been observing closely.
I tried to guess Livia’s emotions.
Livia wouldn’t want me to see through her true feelings.
According to the setting, she didn’t know how to reveal her emotions to others.
That’s how she had been trained.
She had received harsh training until hiding her true feelings felt like her instinct.
That was how she had lived her entire life.
Through this, Livia created numerous masks for herself.
A lovely commoner girl, a cold and terrifying assassin, a wealthy young lady, and so on.
As a result, Livia didn’t even know who she was herself anymore.
Even now, she must have been wearing one of those masks.
She was made this way to acquire a magic called Phantasmal Projection.
A magic that turns one of her many ‘masks’ into a tangible entity by demonifying it.
It was a unique ability passed down in Livia’s Assassin Guild.
The so-called Phantasmal Projection.
The essence of assassination magic was acquired through countless inhumane training sessions.
To make her master this ability, Livia’s father had horribly twisted her humanity.
This ability was, in some sense, the strongest, as it allowed her to control dozens of powerful magical beasts simultaneously.
It was impossible to win against her in a direct confrontation.
To stop her, this ability had to be sealed.
‘… It’s not that I don’t feel sympathy.’
I thought about her setting as I reminisced.
That setting was also her dark past.
Feeling Livia’s gaze on my wound, I gently stroked my cheek.
The stinging pain disappeared, and the wound was cleanly erased as well.
I had left the wound on my cheek until now just to show her.
“It’s fine now.”
I showed my cheek to Livia as I spoke.
Genuine relief settled on Livia’s face, and she relaxed.
A teardrop that she hadn’t noticed clung to the corner of her eye.
I gently touched her cheek and unconsciously wiped away the droplet from her eye.
It was a habit I had developed because of Nias, who cried often, that came out without me realizing.
“Ah!”
Livia let out a high-pitched sound as if startled.
Then she became somewhat restless, and her face instantly turned bright red up to her ears.
“…Thank you, Senior.”
Finally, Livia spoke shyly, rounding her plump lips.
And as if wanting to say something more, Livia blinked her eyes like a fool.
I realized it was a mistake, but since she couldn’t find what more to say and just opened and closed her mouth, I smiled slightly and said,
“We’ll be late for assembly.”
Just then, the bell rang.
Livia, who had been searching for words, closed her mouth and smiled.
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After a brief morning assembly and self-introduction, we moved on to each subject’s orientation.
“Therefore, magic studies is fundamentally about exploring how we construct the images or scenes that arise in our minds through our imagination, that is, the imagery within us…”
Livia couldn’t focus on the explanation of Professor Roman, the magic studies teacher in front of her, and was dwelling on the memory of a specific moment.
‘What was I trying to say?’
Livia thought about that time, touching her eye.
The senior’s thumb had touched her cheek, brushing past the area below her eye where a tear had been hanging.
The senior, who seemed flustered as he removed his hand, felt incredibly lovable to her.
So Livia clearly wanted to say something more after saying thank you.
But Livia couldn’t figure out what she had wanted to say herself.
Some words were clinging to her throat, tongue, and lips but wouldn’t form into speech.
‘Why?’
Livia felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable with herself.
This couldn’t happen.
Livia had been thoroughly trained on what words suited which moments and what to do.
She could switch between dozens of masks depending on the situation, and she could perfectly act out those masks.
The current mask was that of a lively girl.
She should have been able to think of words that suited that.
‘No, I already said such words.’
Thank you, Senior.
That’s what she had said.
Yet something more was trying to come out.
‘But what?’
Livia couldn’t understand herself.
What more was trying to come out of her mouth?
– You are an assassin.
At that moment, for some reason, Livia’s memory was flooded with her father’s chillingly low voice.
A dark, deep room in the assassin’s guild.
A place where only the faint candlelight flickered like a light leading to the underworld in the darkness as deep as an abyss.
‘I’m sure I escaped.’
It was inexplicable why that terrible place came to mind when trying to recall what she wanted to say to the senior.
As she shook her head, the professor’s words were heard again.
“We construct the imagery needed to use magic within us based on our experiences of the environmental world surrounding us. This is…”
However, Livia was instantly pulled back deep into her inner thoughts.
– Hide everything.
Again.
Livia felt those words following her like a curse.
-Do you want to save your mother? Is that your wish? Then…
Livia seemed to have disliked killing people at first.
She thought she had such a memory.
So, her father tried to motivate Livia.
At first, he gave Livia something to love madly.
And then, he took it away.
When Livia searched desperately for that beloved thing, her father put a knife in her hand.
-Kill.
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind.
So Livia had to kill someone to regain that something again.
That was the only way she could get her hands on what she loved.
What Livia loved was her mother.
Her sickly, frail, dying mother.
She loved her mother so madly, but her father was killing her mother because of her.
To make her the best assassin.
Standing before her sickly mother, she recalled her father’s words.
The heavy feel of the dagger placed in her hand and the cold blade that looked sharp enough to cut just by looking at it.
Shedding tears profusely, her face reflected dimly in that blade shining faintly in the candlelight.
The more Livia thought about it, the worse her headache became.
So, instead, she focused on something a bit more comfortable.
It was hatred.
‘Senior’s cheek looked painful.’
It was a wound that wasn’t life-threatening.
However, the moment she saw that red blood, Livia felt a boiling killing intent.
And that killing intent was the most familiar emotion Livia had felt throughout her life.
Livia looked at Leonhart, sitting a little distance from her.
Looking at him made her heart start pounding again, to the point where her chest felt tight.
Excitement and joy welled up to the point where she was short of breath.
– For the person you love, you should kill.
Livia didn’t know any other way to love.
So tonight, for my dearest senior…
She would kill the person who had hurt him.
‘Wait for me, Senior.’
I’ll get rid of everything that stands between us.
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