There was no doubt. The completely ravaged blood vessels had regained a slight vitality. Charlotte's dantian was still hardened, but an aura from the outside was circulating within her.

Count Kheitel Ruslan. It was clear that his sudden kiss was the cause. In the brief moment their lips met, he had pinpointed Charlotte’s blood vessels and transfused aura into her.

‘Why? We only just met today.’

However, the questions could wait.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Charlotte slowly regulated her body to ensure the aura wasn't wasted.

She had drawn up escape plans countless times for a day like this. The timing was right now, all she had to do was execute it.

Charlotte endured until evening. Even when the warden, in a foul mood after having to cater to the Count, smacked her cheek for no reason, she stayed silent.

"Heh, look at this. Still can’t come to her senses. A good-for-nothing through and through. You, if you keep spouting nonsense and resisting, you won’t get away with it. Understand?"

At the warden's glance, a new guard who had just returned from procuring food, hesitantly placed the bread on the floor. She mouthed an apology, and Charlotte noticed.

Silently, Charlotte picked up and ate the bread. The texture against her tongue was surprisingly soft, which surprised her. It was clean bread without sawdust mixed in.

However, she didn’t commit the foolish act of lifting her head to look at the new guard.

What results her small act of kindness might bring, she would know naturally when the time came.

Right now.

"One second late. Can’t you just eat it already?!"

The moment the warden swung his fist, Charlotte seized the man’s forearm. Taking a deep breath, she slowly tightened her grip. The warden, not even realizing what was happening, screamed at the sudden, engulfing pain.

"Wh-what, are you crazy… AHHH!"

“That’s right. It would be hard not to go crazy after facing your mug for five years, wouldn’t it?”

The aura Ruslan had given her surged inside. Her hand, now glowing faintly, squeezed the warden's arm. The sound of his joints popping echoed loudly.

Memories of everything she had endured surged through her, and she snickered.

“You could cry out better, couldn’t you? You sound like you're slaughtering a pig, fitting for a pig in clothing.”

Charlotte slowly rose. She used the aura to support her legs, which had been dead below the knees. It was uncomfortable compared to when she was healthy, but she couldn't crawl around.

As she walked forward, the chains that had been buried deep in the rock walls were pulled out with a whoosh. The weight that had been restraining her limbs instantly lifted, along with the sound of shattering rock.

The new guard, witnessing this unbelievable strength, collapsed to the floor. The warden, clutching his shoulder, frantically reached out with his arm.

"Wh-where do you think you’re going, how… how is this possible!"

Thud!

The chain, attached to the swung arm, slammed down on the warden.

“I don't have time for the likes of you."

The noise subsided, making her feel considerably better.

She swung the chains a few more times at the iron bars in front of her. She smashed the completely mangled grid, causing it to collapse. As soon as she stepped into the passage, the loud clang of an alarm bell resounded.

"It's a breakout! Number 707, that wicked woman!"

Guards poured out of the narrow passage. The same faces who had cursed her to die and repeatedly struck and stabbed her whenever they had the chance.

Charlotte smirked. She infused aura into her dead legs. Then, she leapt.

By the time she exited the winding tunnel to the bottom of the exit, the chain dragging on the ground was drawing a crimson path.

She roughly tossed the person she was holding by the hair. She saw a pulley, already broken by someone else.

As she tilted her head and assessed the height of the vertical shaft, she heard a trembling cry from the other side of the passage.

"I, if you go out... you can’t go out!"

The voice belonged to the new guard. The only person in that space with all their limbs intact. Thus, she was the only one who could barely make her way through the pile of corpses and follow.

But, trembling, she soon sank to the ground. Lying on the floor, she couldn't bear the sight and began to vomit.

Charlotte left her with one last thing to say.

"Thanks for the bread. Find a new job that suits you better."

With those words, she leaped up the shaft.

She grabbed onto the icy cliff. Using force, she hauled herself up. She desperately climbed, trying not to slip.

She was getting out. The wicked Charlotte Moden was finally escaping from the icy prison!

After an eternity of struggle, she grabbed onto the final rock. She collapsed on the ground outside the exit and took off her shackles, allowing the biting cold air to cleanse her lungs.

It was winter outside. A blizzard common to the northern mountains whipped around. The sloping mountain path was covered in white, and it shone brightly even though it was night.

The moment the landscape she hadn't seen for so long filled her eyes, Charlotte was overcome with a dizzying sensation and collapsed to the ground.

Her aura scattered. The chill penetrated her skin, which had forgotten the seasons. Her temporarily recovered body reverted to its disabled state.

She gritted her teeth. She crawled using her still-working arms, dragging her legs. She kept spitting out the snow that kept getting into her mouth.

"I won't die! How do you think I got out of there! I can't die before I pay those bastards back!"

She cried out, crawling up the slope.

That was when Charlotte met him again.

He was getting off a horse pulling a small carriage. The coat with fur trim had its hood pulled up, making him look like a black stake.

"Indeed, I wonder if my adoptive mother felt this way when she discovered my birth mother. Both of them have passed away, so I can’t ask."

He muttered riddles as he approached her.

White snowfield. Black coat. A face like a glacial crystal shimmered, and red eyes blazed beautifully, like a phantom within a match flame.

The man’s lips twisted into a crooked smile. A crescent-moon-like smile looked down at Charlotte.

"I thought that when you escaped you'd immediately come to kill me. I had some expectations, but it looks like it’s going to be impossible in that state.”

Charlotte barely managed to retort.

"You. Ruslan, von Kheitel, Count... what's your scheme, why did you help me?"

Then, just like when they first met eyes, Ruslan knelt on one knee. He reached out to the collapsed Charlotte and warmed her frozen cheek.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

He didn't speak as kindly as Albert would. The tone of his voice, lowered to the bottom, made Charlotte instinctively know.

Getting involved with this man was dangerous.

"Won't you kill the Emperor for me?"

At the same time—it was irresistibly sweet.

Charlotte was loaded into the carriage and taken somewhere.

Whether she agreed to his request or not, she had no choice. She'd rather be wrapped in a warm blanket than freeze to death on a snow-covered mountain.

As the temporarily recovered aura was exhausted, her body ached all over. Even leaving out her non-functioning legs, Charlotte’s health was bad. She was extremely weak due to poor meals and constant abuse.

Fortunately, a bottle of milk porridge had been prepared in the carriage. Swallowing the warm food made her feel better, but her hunger-forgetting mind became even more cold-headed.

She thought she could do anything once she got out of that prison. But reality was harsh, not something she could overcome with her will alone.

Could she possibly achieve revenge with a body that couldn’t even properly use aura and couldn’t walk?

"Are you still alive? It would be a problem if you died on the way."

Ruslan's voice came from the small window.

Despite being a Count, he was driving the carriage without a driver. It was an odd situation, but she had a rough idea why. He wanted to secretly transport her to a place known only to him.

"I’m alive."

“That’s good then. You were silent, so I wondered.”

"I was thinking about how you, the world's villain, are trying to use me for treason."

The adopted son of Grand Duke Licht, Count Kheitel.

How had a mere local noble ended up in an assassination plot against the Emperor? She couldn't grasp how the world had changed in the five years she had been imprisoned.

"I’ll tell you everything when we arrive."

Ruslan replied without a hint of a smile.

She wondered what kind of hideout their destination was. However, Charlotte didn't have the stamina to think for long. The warmth of the blanket and milk porridge made her drowsy.

Eventually, she fell asleep curled up in the small carriage. The carriage constantly rattled, but it was heaven compared to the prison.

'Come to think of it, this carriage was carrying a big box, like a coffin, in the back...'

She had no idea what lay ahead, dreaming she was.

"We’re here. Wake up."

Charlotte’s eyes flew open.

The outside was bright. It was dawn, after the night had passed. She thought they would be going to some cabin hidden in a valley, but it was a completely different place.

It was a ruin.

There was a broken building in a snow-covered field. Pillars stood with only half their structure remaining, and the statue’s head was severed. It was so quiet that neither people nor animals seemed to come near.

The carriage went into a space that was at least enclosed by the outer wall. Charlotte was taken out of the carriage and looked around.

It was the center of a wide, smooth stone floor. The floor patterns that were originally engraved were still faintly visible, even through the dust. If the building were intact, it might have been a hall suitable for a ball or a ceremony.

“Where is this…?”

“The Iphenia Royal Palace.”

Charlotte was startled at the unexpected foreign name.

Iphenia, a small kingdom to the north. A place with a reputation for researching ‘magic,’ a unique way of using aura.

It had already been more than twenty years since that country had been destroyed. At that time, Charlotte was still very young. The story of the war in the north sounded as distant as an ancient flood myth.

A puzzle piece clicked into place. She looked up at Ruslan.

“Could it be, you!”

“In a situation where we're forming an alliance, we shouldn't hide our cards.”

Ruslan answered frankly.

“Yes, my real name is Ruslanid Zakharievich Serce-Iphenia. The last descendant born from the blood of the ruined royal family.”

He removed his hood. Black hair fell around his ears. But the moment he raised his hand and briefly showed his aura, something shocking happened.

His black hair, his red eyes, slowly changed as if pigment was fading away. Silver hair, like threads of spun silk, and eyes like an eternally frozen lake, were revealed.

She had never heard of such a combination existing. Even Charlotte, who had gone through thick and thin, looked up at the man, astonished.

“That’s… magic?”

Ruslan smiled with his appearance completely altered.

“My mother’s keepsake and the legacy of my homeland. You know why Iphenia was destroyed, don't you?”

Of course, she knew. No one in the Empire didn't know about that.

The former Emperor had lived for a sickeningly long time. His obsession with the power he had created lasted his entire life. In his later years, he was swayed by a desire to achieve immortality.

There was a rumor: that the magic passed down through the Iphenia royal family could achieve immortality.

It was unclear whether the concrete cause of the outbreak of war was the old man’s delusions, or to crush the power of small kingdoms that had not yet submitted to the empire.

What was important was the outcome that Iphenia was destroyed by the Empire’s one-sided offensive. The fact that magic had been of no help in protecting their country was a bonus.

“As a result, the former emperor died of old age, so everyone said that immortality was a lie.”

Charlotte also remembered the former Emperor’s death. He had died over the age of ninety. It was the moment Albert had longed for, so Charlotte had wished the old man would just hurry up and die.

“It was wrong that immortality was a lie. The magic of immortality actually exists.”

“What is… what is your goal? To rebuild your country? Are you trying to become the new Emperor?!”

“So that’s how your thoughts run to.”

Ruslan gave a wry smile and ran a hand through his hair. Black began to coat over it again and his eyes were once again dyed red.

“It’s not patriotism. If I had to put a name on it, it would be loyalty. I want to repay the debt I owe to my adoptive mother, Grand Duke Licht.”

Charlotte recalled the news of the Grand Duke's sudden death. Even she was surprised enough to think, 'Already?'

"…Albert killed him?"

“Your words get to the point quickly. If you help me, I will help you.”

He lowered the box he had been carrying in the carriage. He opened the lid, and inside was a girl who appeared to be sleeping, eyes closed.

After seeing her face, Charlotte involuntarily gasped. The girl looked to be under twenty. Long blonde hair and white skin made her a rare beauty.

“This child’s body and the magic of immortality. With that, you can be reborn.”