The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 120

“…Islay, I—”

“Say right here that nothing in this world is more important than you, and that you won’t endure a pain that slices your flesh just for the sake of a man like me. If you say that, then I promise I’ll support your decision.”

It was practically a plea. Just imagining losing her was unbearable. It was a desperate request that if there was even the slightest risk of harming her in the ritual to destroy such a power, she must stop.

“Hm?”

Islay embraced Stella even more tightly as she only mouthed silent words. His brief question was soaked in desperate emotion he couldn’t conceal. The crimson eyes of a man who had seemed unshakable through any hardship now trembled like a raging storm.

And Stella, ever stubborn and foolish, couldn’t bring herself to answer that question.

***

Stella descended the stairs, her footsteps echoing along the dim underground corridor. The flickering torchlight cast gloomy shadows across her face.

“Promise me, Estella.”

How could I make such a promise… I could never lie to you. The sorrowful murmur twisted inside her lips.

Of course, she didn’t want to die. Every word she had confessed to him had been the truth. She longed so desperately to live, to spend the rest of her life beside him as an ordinary woman.

Most of all, she wasn’t possessed by any heroic ideal to recklessly sacrifice herself for the world.

But even if it meant facing death, she wouldn’t back down. Because she could save Islay. Because it would spare the people she loved from further struggle. They were Stella’s small world—and to protect them, she could accept sacrifice.

In her dream, ‘Stella’ had wept as if a hole had been torn in her chest, watching Peruno writhe in agony. As her beloved transformed into a monster before her eyes, she had cried out as if the heavens were falling.

She had felt the torment, despair, and helplessness down to her bones. She couldn’t bear to repeat such a fate.

This time, I won’t just watch. I won’t sit by and do nothing.

So Stella hadn’t answered Islay’s question, her cracked lips silently mouthing words. Seeing her like that, he gave a hollow, bitter laugh.

“So this was your answer all along.”

Even as he muttered, Islay gently brushed away the tears trailing down her cheeks. Rough and fierce on the outside, the man was tender by nature. His comforting touch was filled with warmth. Before leaving the bedroom, he tilted his head and pressed a kiss to her tear-soaked eyes.

Stella watched Islay’s back as he walked away. She couldn’t help the sorrow that weighed on her heart. Even though she knew anyone who cared for her would never support such a decision…

‘No more thinking now.’

Swallowing her rising grief, Stella wiped at her stinging eyelids with the back of her hand. From this moment on, she had to remain strong. She didn’t want to show even a trace of sadness on her face.

“Your Highness.”

Breaking the silence from behind, Roderick Elgin spoke quietly.

“Are you truly going to the underground prison?”

“As you can see, Sir Elgin.”

“…I see. Then may I ask why this Northerner is accompanying you?”

Stella glanced over her shoulder. Roderick was eyeing Mikel—who walked beside her—with clear displeasure. Mikel, on the other hand, followed Stella with an indifferent expression, as if the conversation didn’t concern him.

“We’re not heading into war. It’s only a short trip to the underground prison. I alone am more than enough to protect the Princess with my life.”

“He’s only here by order of his lord, just in case something happens to me. Just as my brother has sent you.”

When Islay and Alexio had left for the war council, they had each assigned their most trusted guards to accompany her.

“Oh, and his name is Mikel.”

Now that she’d even told him the man’s name, Roderick stopped complaining. Mikel, who had remained silent all this time, suddenly spoke up.

“I’m not accompanying the Princess because you’re unreliable.”

“What?”

“It’s because Southerners are soft. I’m coming along in case I need to throw a punch.”

“…Soft, you say?”

“Always going on about rules and etiquette… You lot are shackled by outdated notions. Not us. If we don’t like something, we swing our fists first—whether it’s a Southern noble or even royalty.”

“Savage brute! Are you proud of using your fists first?”

“Keep talking. While you’re flailing around trying to draw your sword, my so-called savage fists and kicks will beat the crap out of you.”

“You two… please stop fighting.”

Despite their fierce snarling, they both fell silent. Really, why couldn’t they ever get along? Still, Stella felt the shadow weighing on her heart lift slightly.

At last, they stood before the massive prison door. Stella gazed coldly beyond the bars.

“Prince Regan.”

No response. At her signal, Roderick raised a torch and brought it closer to the iron bars. The sound of chains clanking in the darkness rang out, followed by someone rushing forward.

Thud!

“You… You filthy bitch!”

Grabbing the bars with one hand, Hendrick glared at Stella with bloodshot eyes, as if he meant to kill her.

“You dare—how dare you… I’ll beat you to death with this club, you wretched woman!”

Stella silently observed the changed Hendrick Regan.

She had always known that despite pretending to be the heir of a great empire, he was twisted and base at heart. But now, even the mask he wore was gone—his true face laid bare.

His lofty pride had been trampled so thoroughly, it was understandable.

He hadn’t even considered defeat or failure when he snuck in through a rat hole, only to be crushed like an insect by Islay and thrown into prison. How bitter must that be?

On top of that, the arm Islay had twisted was still grotesquely bent. For Hendrick, who valued his body more than gold, it was no wonder he was filled with venom.

That all his resentment had turned on Stella was almost laughable.

When Stella calmly scanned him up and down without blinking, Hendrick shook the bars again and bared his sharp teeth.

“Where do you get off looking at me like that, huh? What did you trade to drag Calis into this? Huh? …No, stupid question. You filthy, brazen slut—even a whore from a brothel would be cleaner than you!”

“The Prince of Pantege would do well to watch his tongue before the Princess!”

Enraged, Roderick reached for his sword hilt and shouted sharply. At that moment, Mikel smashed the prison lock with his fist.

Everyone but him turned in shock. Mikel kicked the door open and walked in with calm strides.

Hendrick, growling at the sudden intrusion, flinched and looked up. Then, with a loud smack, he was sent flying by a Northern fist.

“Aagh!”

Hendrick let out a shrill scream as he crumpled disgracefully. Even the composed Stella gasped at the sight.

Standing tall before Hendrick, Mikel cracked his knuckles threateningly.

“Say one more word.”

“It hurts! It hurts!”

“Then shut up. Every time your disgusting mouth moves, I’ll make sure you pay for it.”

Then, with a courteous expression, Mikel turned to Stella.

“If you have something to say, please continue.”

“…Uh… for now, could you help me get the prince up?”

“As you command.”

Replying calmly, Mikel roughly grabbed Hendrick by the hair and dragged him up. He tapped the back of the prince’s knees with his foot, forcing him to kneel before Stella.

When Hendrick glared up at her with blazing eyes, Mikel—unmoved—swung again. The prince rolled across the floor.

“Grahh!”

“Watch your eyes.”

Even if he was the heir to the throne, to be handled worse than an animal… Roderick held his breath. Considering he had nearly been decapitated by the prince, it was oddly satisfying. He had no intention of stopping the Northerner.

Stella quietly spoke, “I’m going to ask you some questions now. Answer honestly. I’ll know right away if you’re lying, so don’t waste time.”