The walk felt longer than it should have.

Neither of them spoke.

The heavy thud of their boots echoed down the cold stone corridor. Seraphina kept her head low, following the broad back of her father like a ghost following a master it could never reach.

When they arrived at his study, the heavy oak doors swung inward without a word.

Duke Zorack Armathorne entered first.

She followed silently behind.

The office was dead quiet. The Duke walked past the center of the room and stopped directly in front of his massive mahogany desk. His back remained turned to her, his frame straight and unmoving.

He did not sit.

He did not turn.

He did not acknowledge her presence.

Seraphina remained standing near the heavy entrance doors. Her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of her shirt as the silence stretched across the room.

One second.

Two.

Five.

Ten.

Each passing moment pressed directly against her chest, making it harder to breathe.

She lowered her gaze to the floor.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me, Papa?”

Her voice came out much softer than she intended.

It sounded so fragile in the vastness of the room.

“Haa…”

A heavy breath cut through the silence.

It was a long sigh.

Recognizable as the sound of disappointment.

“Tch... something?”

Zorack’s voice was low and flat.

He paused for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind.

“...Right. There is something.”

Slowly, he turned around.

His emerald-green eyes locked onto hers.

They were cold, but beneath the ice, Seraphina caught a brief flash of something else.

A flicker of genuine fear.

It was an expression she didn't understand.

He took a slow step forward.

“I sensed an energy leak from the demonic seed.”

Seraphina’s entire body stiffened.

Her thoughts snapped into place.

He noticed.

“...It disappeared within a few seconds, Papa—”

“A few seconds?”

Zorack’s voice rose sharply, cutting through her defense like a blade.

“A few seconds would have been enough to slaughter everyone there.”

He took another aggressive step closer, looming over her.

“Everyone, Seraphina.”

His gaze hardened further.

“My sons included.”

Seraphina shook her head quickly, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“No, I would never hurt them—”

Slap!

The sharp crack of the strike shattered the quiet of the office.

Seraphina staggered backward from the sheer force, her head snapping violently to the side.

A sudden, burning heat rushed across her cheek as the impact settled deep into her skin.

Her vision quivered, and for a second, her brain couldn't process the blow.

It felt as if the entire world had paused around her.

Her trembling hand slowly rose to her face, her fingertips brushing against the rapidly swelling skin.

Her eyes shook.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes before she could even think to stop them.

“Papa...?”

Slap!

The second strike came faster and even harder than the first. Her body jerked with the impact, her balance breaking completely as she stumbled back another step.

The cold calm in Zorack’s eyes was gone now. In its place was a raw and volatile irritation.

No, it was something far worse than anger.

It was pure disgust.

“Haa...”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, his chest heaving as he forced himself to regain control.

“You had one thing to do.”

With agonizingly slow movements, the Duke unbuttoned the top of his vest and began rolling up his formal sleeves.

“One thing,” he continued, his voice dropping back into a low, controlled growl, “to manage so that I wouldn't have to be constantly reminded of your wretched existence.”

Seraphina froze, her breath catching in her throat.

He stepped directly into her personal space.

“Just one thing that would keep this family from being dragged into absolute ruin because of your blood.”

She took a step back.

Step.

Her heel slipped slightly against the polished floor.

He leaned down, his shadow completely swallowing her.

“What did I explicitly tell you never to do?”

“Papa, I—”

Slap!

Her words were beaten right back down her throat. Her head snapped to the side again, her cheek throbbing with a violent, white-hot ache.

“That foul thing inside your chest will be the death of all of us!” the Duke snarled.

“I... I was just practicing,” she choked out, her voice breaking into a desperate sob. “It suddenly... it reacted to the strain...”

“Excuses!”

Zorack’s tone sharpened instantly, his eyes bulging with fury.

“Nothing but pathetic excuses!”

“I didn't mean to—I couldn't— The divinity restriction makes it too difficult to control—”

“Too difficult to control?”

His voice dropped to a dangerously venomous whisper.

Seraphina’s throat tightened into a suffocating knot.

“Papa, I...”

The hot tears finally spilled over her bruised cheeks, flowing freely down her face.

The Duke didn't look moved by her tears at all.

He simply raised his heavy hand again.

“If...”

Slap!

“...you can’t...”

Slap!

“...do something as simple as...”

Slap!

“...keeping that filth contained...”

Slap!

“...then do not ever dare to call yourself an Armathorne!”

His heavy, booming voice struck far harder than his physical hand. It filled every corner of the room, leaving no space for her to defend herself.

Seraphina’s legs completely gave out under the weight of the abuse.

She collapsed directly onto the polished floor.

Thud!

The world tilted around her.

Drip... drip.

Dark red blood began to pool from her nose, staining the pristine wooden floor beneath her hands. Her breathing came in shallow and panicked gasps.

Zorack crouched down beside her.

His hand shot forward like a viper, gripping her hair in a brutal fist.

“Heuk...!”

Her body jerked violently as a sharp, agonizing pain shot through her scalp. Her hands instinctively flew up to protect her head, but they froze halfway.

—!

She couldn't push him away.

She didn't dare fight back.

The Duke forced her head backward, forcing her blurred eyes to meet his.

Up close, they were worse.

There wasn't a single shred of warmth in them.

“If you are ever the reason my sons suffer,” he said, his voice absolute and terrifyingly calm, “if your existence brings danger to this household even one more time…”

His grip tightened on her hair, tearing at her scalp.

“...then I will personally remove the problem.”

His eyes bulged as he leaned in.

“Because what I cannot have, no one can.”

The words settled heavily between them.

“Do you understand?”

Her lips trembled violently against the blood on her face.

“...Y-yes...”

He released his grip with a harsh shove, letting her face drop back toward the blood-stained floorboards.

Zorack stood up, calmly pulling a silk handkerchief from his pocket to wipe her blood from his knuckles. He tossed the soiled cloth onto her lap.

“Do not forget your place, tool.”

He turned on his heel and left the office, slamming the heavy doors behind him.

◈—◈—◈—◈—◈

Seraphina’s body felt numb. She was no longer trembling.

However, her mind was a chaotic storm of emotions and looping questions that refused to settle.

Why did Papa hit me so hard?

Why did he… again…

Her fingers curled weakly into the floorboards, scraping against the wood.

Why does he look at me with so much hatred?

Her breathing grew uneven.

Why... Why did he look so afraid?

That specific thought lingered longer than the pain.

Afraid… of me?

Her blood-stained lips parted slightly.

Then,

Am I not his daughter anymore? Am I not family?

Her chest tightened into an ache.

I tried my best. I practiced every single day just to make him proud of me. So why?

Are my brothers superior to me?

Her fingernails dug directly into her palms.

No. They are weaker than me!

The only reason I lost the spar earlier was because of the Restrict, so why…

It was an accidental slip, so why...

I wouldn’t ever hurt my brothers, or this family, so why…

Why did he look at me with those eyes… like I’m nothing to him?

The silence of the office stretched on, but no answers came.

Creeeak—

The heavy door clicked open again.

“My Lady!”

Harold rushed into the room, panic written across his face. He immediately dropped to his knees beside her.

“My Lady, please, let me escort you to the healer right away.”

“Harold,” she whispered.

“Yes, my Lady?”

“Leave me alone.”

“But my Lady, your face... your nose is bleeding badly—”

“I said leave me alone!”

Her voice erupted through the room.

It was a loud shriek that echoed past the heavy doors, instantly terrifying the maids overhearing in the corridor outside.

Harold flinched, his hand freezing in mid-air.

He adjusted his monocle, a single drop of cold sweat running down his forehead.

“...As you wish, my Lady.”

He hesitated for a second, then stood up, backed out of the room, and closed the doors.

The silence returned all at once.

Seraphina slowly pushed her bruised body off the floor.

Her frame swayed unsteadily, staggering as she fought to keep her balance. Blood and tears blurred her vision completely, and she wiped her face with the back of her dirty hand.

Her father's words echoed again.

What I cannot have, no one can.

Once.

What I cannot have, no one can.

Twice.

What I cannot have, no one can.

Her hand stilled against her face.

She dropped her hand, staring blankly at the dark red staining her fingers.

“...What he cannot have…”

She whispered under her breath, her voice dead and flat.

“...no one can.”

The words settled entirely differently in her mind this time.

It stopped feeling like an abusive threat and turned into a rule of reality.

Her fragmented thoughts began to align into a terrifyingly clear picture.

If Papa has his family... if he has my brothers...

Then what do I actually have?

Her eyes lowered to the pool of blood on the floor.

Do my divine blessings count?

No. They only make him wary.

Does the demonic seed count?

No. That makes him afraid.

Do all my hours of training count?

Her grip tightened.

No. It was never enough for him.

Her breathing suddenly steadied, turning remarkably smooth and cold.

Then… What do I have…

That no one else in this world does?

A clear but uninvited memory flashed behind her eyes.

“...The dreams…”

She murmured, her body going completely still.

No, not the dreams.

Him.

The faceless man standing at the end of the world.

The one who looked at her—

Differently.

Differently from everyone else.

He didn't look at her with fear, and he didn't look at her with disgust.

He didn't treat her like she was something dangerous.

Something that needed to be locked away or sold to the highest bidder.

Her chest throbbed with a strange warmth.

His eyes.

They had never rejected her.

She slowly pressed her bloody hand flat against her heart.

“...I...”

An unreasonable but certain thought took root deep within her.

“I need him.”

Her gaze sharpened.

If Papa cannot accept me… If this house cannot accept me…

Then I will find the one person who does.

The man who looks at me the way he did in the ashes.

Her breathing deepened.

“I need to find him.”

She clenched her fist over her heart, her nails biting into her skin.

Because that is mine.

The thought came naturally as if it were normal.

Because no one else has it.

Her lips parted.

And once I have him…

Her fingers tightened, her thoughts triggering emotions she never knew existed.

The 'Yandere' trait has successfully taken root within the Villainess.

◈—◈—◈—◈—◈

One month.

That was how much time Leon had left before he had to depart for the Armathorne Dukedom.

Over those four weeks, he prepared for his active escort duties with precision, while continuing to brutally train the loyal bastards of House Serpentine.

At times, he knew he went too far. The trainee knights constantly groaned that they barely had the chance to lift their practice swords before being violently knocked back into the mud again and again.

Leon didn't see a single problem with his methods.

He firmly believed that physical pain was the fastest path to strength and discipline.

Besides, if the world was heading toward the exact same apocalyptic ruin as his last hundred lives, he would much rather have them struggle under his blade now than die pointlessly on a real battlefield later.

Since this loop was his final regression, there was no room for soft sentimentality. He drilled them until they literally cried themselves to sleep in the barracks.

He wasn't entirely sure if it was a side effect of synchronizing with his hundredth regression, but some of the colder and harsher leadership traits he had developed as a wartime commander seemed to have bled back into his personality.

With his new 'Anomaly' trait active, Leon pushed his own body just as hard. Sparring with the trainees helped keep his joints loose, but it wasn't nearly enough to trigger real growth.

If he truly intended to surpass his peak, he needed to seek out some specific external variables. He needed the assistance of certain individuals he would meet on this final journey.

His high-tier reward skills gave him a massive advantage, but they wouldn't suffice on their own.

If possible, he also needed to secure at least one divine Blessing ahead of time. The path to acquiring a Blessing was dangerous, as there were rules bound to blessings. Rules he would rather not face again, but could no longer avoid.

For now, he focused entirely on his daily routine. He trained his own body, broke the trainees' formations, assisted Levyn with minor escort logistics, and forced Mai to take basic self-defense lessons—which she absolutely despised.

The four weeks blurred past, and soon, the day of departure arrived.

Mai stood directly in front of the transport carriage, weeping loudly and blowing her nose into a silk handkerchief.

“Young Master... Waa... I cannot… I can't bear it...!”

“Mai.”

“Uaaghh, yes, Young Master... Waa...?”

“Please close your mouth. You're getting fluid on the baggage.”

“Mmphhff—”

She sniffled instantly, clamping her mouth shut and nodding her head.

Leon sighed softly.

‘She was as dramatic as ever.’

He glanced around the courtyard, half-expecting to see a few of the house knights gathered nearby to watch him leave, but the yard was completely empty.

It made sense. He had beaten them into the dirt every single day for a month, leaving them with barely enough time to eat, sleep, and wash.

‘They must be holding a massive grudge,’ he thought dryly.

It wasn't as if he needed a send-off. He had gone on long-distance escort assignments dozens of times in his past lives. But this time was different. He would be gone for a very long time, and since the academy term started in two weeks, he wouldn't see the Serpentine estate again for three full years.

He had wanted to see their faces one last time, but he quickly shook the sentimental thought away.

‘I can look at them all I want once I actually secure the good ending.’

He stepped inside the carriage.

Mai had already handled his cover story perfectly. She had informed his older brother, Levyn, that Leon had accepted escort duties in a distant dukedom.

Levyn had been highly suspicious of the sudden assignment, but according to Mai, her "A-Grade manipulation skills" had taken care of it.

Leon leaned back against the leather seat.

‘I'm not entirely sure fraud is something to be proud of, but… as long as it works.’

“Young Master, is the baggage secured, or shall we begin the departure?”

The house driver, Ben, asked with a bright smile.

“Let’s go.”

The carriage lurched forward, rolling a few yards before suddenly jolting to a stop.

Creeeak!

Leon frowned.

“What’s the hold-up, Ben?”

“Ah... Young Master, you might want to look outside.”

Leon leaned over and pushed the velvet curtain aside.

His eyes widened.

The trainees were standing at the edge of the estate gates.

All of them.

Every single knight he had battered over the last month was lined up along the path.

Some stood with their arms tightly crossed, while others gave half-hearted, lazy waves.

“Finally clearing out, Young Master?”

“Do us a favor and don't come back early!”

“Yeah, stay there! We like our ribs unbroken!”

“We’re finally free from the tyrant!”

Their parting words were rough, and their expressions were exaggerated, but no real malice existed in their voice. They were smiling.

Leon watched them for a long moment, the cold mask on his face softening.

Then a small smile appeared on his face.

He leaned slightly out of the open window.

“When I return in three years, the training will be ten times harder.”

The smiles vanished instantly, their faces twisting into absolute horror.

“You’ve got to be kidding me...”

“He isn't joking. Look at his eyes, he’s dead serious.”

“We’re doomed.”

A few of the younger trainees groaned loudly, burying their faces in their hands, while the older veterans simply laughed and shook their heads.

Ben glanced back through the driver's partition.

“Should we pull out for real this time, sir?”

Leon gave a firm nod.

The carriage began to roll, picking up speed as it passed through the main gates.

Leon kept his eyes on the window, watching his men grow smaller and smaller in the distance.

Their mocking voices faded into the rustle of the wind, but their hands remained raised, waving him off until the carriage rounded the mountain bend.

For a second, Leon let himself feel the warmth of the moment.

Then, he cleared his mind.

Active Skill: Archive of the 100 Tragedies (Unique)

Because his soul carried the absolute trauma of every single failed timeline, Leon could see what normal humans could not.

He focused his gaze through the glass.

Above the heads of every single trainee standing at the gates, faint, translucent system markers hovered in the air.

The death flags of his people.

Every single marker read:

[ 0% ]

The tightness that had occupied his chest since he woke up in this loop finally eased.

For now, they were safe.

‘Good.’

Leon leaned completely back into the cushioned seat, his gaze drifting up toward the open sky. The morning rain had completely passed. The heavy gray clouds had thinned out, allowing clean, brilliant sunlight to break through and illuminate the path ahead. A crisp wind rushed through the carriage window, brushing through his dark hair.

It felt calm and peaceful.

Leon closed his eyes, his hand resting firmly on the red envelope in his pocket.

This time, things would be different.

This time, he would reach a good ending.

And with that final thought, Leon continued on his way to a place destined for ruin.