Leon had thought about this moment for far longer than he was willing to admit.

No matter how many times he had seen her across his countless iterations, a meeting in this specific lifetime carried a different significance.

It came not from a sense of unfamiliarity, but from the fact that this version of her existed before everything had gone wrong.

He had seen her at her worst. He had seen her when the world had already begun to collapse under her actions, when her obsession had twisted into something that could no longer be contained within anyone’s hands.

He had stood before her at the very end of time more than once, facing the same tragic outcome each time.

Yet, this version of Seraphina stood before him completely untouched by all of that. She was positioned at a point in time where she had yet to become the monster he knew.

That alone made the current situation feel misaligned with every single memory burned into his brain.

It was a strange feeling that he would meet her before the main story of the game had even begun. But at the same time, this situation had not come about by fate or a sudden coincidence.

He had planned for this.

“It seems the wench has arrived on her own.”

Zorack’s voice cut through the silence of the office with casual and ice-cold disdain.

‘That makes it the second time,’ Leon noted internally, his mind filing away the Duke's words.

The thought did not last long, as another set of desperate knocks echoed from the door.

“Papa! Are you—”

Before the voice could even finish the sentence, Harold had already stepped forward and swung the door open.

The moment she crossed the threshold and entered the room, Leon felt it.

That presence.

It was unmistakable.

Even without looking, his soul would have recognized it instantly.

It was something he had faced and succumbed to endlessly across his lives.

The familiarity of her presence tightened something in his throat; a subtle but undeniable pain.

Slowly, deliberately, he turned his head to face the entrance.

There, panting heavily with a desperate look in her eyes, stood Seraphina Noire Armathorne.

The woman who would one day destroy this world.

Leon’s gaze moved across her in a measured manner. It wasn't out of curiosity, but out of a hard-wired habit. When it came to dealing with her, every single micro-detail mattered.

But—

‘Something…’

Leon’s eyes narrowed.

‘Something was wrong.’

The Seraphina he knew had always held herself with a level of composure and elegance that matched her high standing as a noble heir.

At least, before she ever met the Hero, she had maintained a chilling public reputation that reflected exactly that.

What stood before him now, however, did not match that regal image in the slightest.

Her long, vivid red hair was completely disheveled, lacking even the most basic care.

Dark and heavy circles stretched beneath her dimmed golden eyes, speaking of severe sleep deprivation.

The dress she wore was visibly worn, violently torn in multiple places, and stained with the kind of grime and dust that should not have been present on someone of her position.

And her face—

There were discolored marks on her skin. They weren't injuries that could be easily ignored, but visible bruising, as if someone had grabbed her roughly by the jaw and slammed her down.

Leon’s dark brows drew together.

‘Someone did that to her?’

The question surfaced unintentionally, and he immediately pushed it aside because it conflicted with everything he knew.

‘That should not be possible.’

No one in this household would dare treat her in such a manner, not when she was supposed to be an untouchable powerhouse.

He had never seen her like this before. Not in a single one of the lives he had lived.

—!

Suddenly, a realization clicked in his mind.

‘Right… the Special Route...’

Leon reminded himself.

That variable alone was enough to justify the massive differences he was seeing, even if it did not fully settle the unease lingering at the back of his mind.

How she looked right now didn't actually matter.

It did not change what she was destined to become.

It did not change what he ultimately intended to do to her.

Even so, his thoughts remained fixed on her state.

It was certainly very strange.

“Introduce yourself,” Zorack’s voice cut sharply through his thoughts, forcing his focus back to the present. “If we are to proceed with this alliance, then handle that mess as well.”

Leon did not need clarification on who the Duke was referring to as a 'mess.'

He gave a small nod before stepping forward, leaving the desk behind.

Step.

Leon’s movements were steady, each step closing the physical distance between them.

The last time they had stood this close to one another, she had been the one approaching him, a blood-stained blade in her hand.

This time, the roles were reversed.

When he finally stopped a few paces in front of her, she did not offer a reaction.

She simply stared.

Her golden gaze locked onto his eyes with an intensity that felt entirely excessive for a first meeting.

It was almost as if she were trying to confirm something that only she could see, something that he himself was unaware of.

That specific look stirred a dark memory within him.

The last time she had looked at him with that level of focus had been right before she killed him.

The eyes with the same terrifying fixation.

The same refusal to look away.

‘No,’ Leon thought, analyzing them. ‘This isn't the same.’

There was no murderous contempt in her eyes.

Not an ounce of the hatred or emptiness he remembered so vividly.

Instead, there was something else entirely.

It was something unfamiliar that did not align with any version of her he had ever known.

Almost as if they were… grievin—

Leon paused for a second, then forced the ridiculous thought aside.

‘What am I even thinking?’

He shifted his attention, grounding himself in what mattered.

He had expected to feel a surge of emotion when facing her again.

Whether it was fear, anger, or even resentment from the countless times he had died at her hands, but there was nothing.

He felt completely hollow.

Perhaps it was because he had already died too many times for those emotions to remain.

Or perhaps—

His gaze flickered briefly to the edge of his vision.

—it was because of the skill.

Bane of the Obsessed (A Rank)

A passive ability designed specifically to counter her.

Effect 1: Immunity to Fear and Charm effects caused by Seraphina.

Regardless of the reason, it didn't change the trajectory of his path.

The outcome remained the same.

He would eventually kill her to save this world.

But not yet.

For now, he needed to play the role of the perfect and obedient escort.

Serving the very woman he wanted to execute was not a pleasant feeling, but a job was a job.

For his plans to work, he needed to swallow his disgust and perform.

Leon’s expression softened into a polite and charming smile as he placed a hand over his chest in a formal, noble greeting.

“Greetings, Lady Seraphina. My name is Leon Vardez Serpentine. I have been officially assigned as your personal escort and guardian for the next three years.”

Silence settled over the room.

Leon waited.

There was no response, not even a delayed one.

A faint crease formed between his brows as he tilted his head up to look at her more closely.

Something was off.

Then—

Thud!

Her body collapsed onto the hard floor without a single word of warning.

Leon’s reaction was immediate, driven far more by instinct than conscious thought. He instantly lowered his center of gravity, dropping to one knee alongside her, while Harold rushed forward from the doorway in visible alarm.

“My Lady! Are you alright?!”

Harold’s voice carried a genuine urgency.

“Are you feeling sick somewhere?!”

Harold’s frantic voice faded into background noise as Leon’s attention remained fixed on her face.

Slowly, Seraphina lifted her head.

—!

And what Leon saw made his mind come to a screeching halt.

The woman he wanted to murder…

The woman who was so desperate for the Hero's love that she would willingly drive this world to destruction…

The woman who had looked down at him with cold and contemptuous eyes as his lifeblood pooled on the ground…

The woman who never seemed to possess an ounce of human emotion for anyone else except for the chosen protagonist…

And yet, that very same woman…

“Heuk… you…!”

She was crying.

Not in silence or restraint, but openly, as heavy tears streamed down her pale, bruised face one after another, splashing onto the floor as if something within her had finally broken through whatever dam had been holding it back.

Leon’s mind completely spiraled.

‘…!’

This was not the woman he knew.

The woman of his memories did not cry like this.

She did not allow herself to appear this weak and vulnerable in front of others.

And she certainly did not—

His thoughts halted as her trembling hands reached directly toward his face.

His body reacted before his brain could fully process it.

His right hand instantly shifted toward the hilt of his sword out of habit, despite the complete and total absence of any killing intent in the air.

But before his fingers could even touch the leather wrap of his hilt, her hands reached him first.

They rested gently against his pale cheeks.

Baduk—!

A violent beat skipped in his chest.

Leon froze completely, his hand locking on his weapon.

For a brief moment, even his breathing felt uneven, as if his body had failed to keep pace with the bizarre reality of what was happening.

‘What… what is she…’

She held his face with a strange care, as though she were desperately confirming that he was real, that what she was seeing was not something imagined.

“The dream… those eyes…”

Her voice trembled weakly, but the words were clear enough for him to understand.

There was no malice in her voice.

Not even a trace of it.

And then, without a single shred of hesitation, she leaned forward and pulled him into an embrace, burying her face into his shoulder.

“Mine.”

The word left her lips quietly, whispered directly against his ear, but it was spoken with absolute certainty, as if it had already been decided and claimed long before this moment.

Leon’s thoughts stalled.

Time seemed to lose its meaning in the office.

One second passed.

Then another.

Then several more.

He remained still, his mind failing to align with the absurdity of the situation unfolding in front of the Duke.

Finally, three simple words formed in his mind before he could stop them.

‘What in the…’

What in the world just happened?