This Villain Is Mine Now - Chapter 122

“Chase the Marquis! Don’t let him get away!”

Concealment was the foundation of any pursuit, but Lyle no longer had any intention of hiding. Spurring his horse forward, he shouted the order. With a long, ragged cry, the black stallion surged ahead with greater speed.

Yet the distance between the Marquis and Lyle’s party refused to close.

Lyle clenched his teeth. He couldn’t let the Marquis escape, not after coming this far. He recalled the envelope delivered to him without a recipient’s name—inside had been a lock of pink hair. The memory sent a searing pain through his chest.

“Elaina.”

He clenched his teeth so hard he tasted blood between his molars.

In the past year with Elaina, Lyle had come to know emotions he had never experienced before.

The battlefield was always a place where survival meant standing alone. Love, friendship—those warm and fragile things. He had thought they were irrelevant to his life.

“To speak so carelessly about someone else’s weakness… You’re truly the worst.”

That day when they had argued now felt like a distant dream. Just as Elaina had said in anger, he had been the worst—a villain.

And his wife was a remarkable woman who managed to make even a villain like him feel love.

He had cut down countless enemies on the battlefield. When a dying foe cursed him with their final breath, swearing he’d go to hell, he’d scoffed. Surely hell was easier to endure than war, and he’d driven his sword in deeper.

But if this was hell, Lyle no longer had the strength to endure. The mere disappearance of Elaina—just one person—had turned his world into a lifeless land where the sun no longer rose.

The Grant family’s glorious prestige.

Its former honor.

What use was any of it?

Without Elaina, it was all just an empty shell.

“Don’t let him escape! Closer, faster!”

Lyle shouted atop his galloping horse.

The bright moonlight lighting the path began to dim, and soon sleet started to fall. Ice crystals stung his cheeks, but Lyle didn’t slow for even a moment.

***

As the snow began to fall suddenly, the air in the tower turned icy. Even burrowed beneath layers of blankets, her body heat was steadily stolen away.

Then Elaina heard footsteps. In that instant, she realized it wasn’t the Young Marquis or Lyle coming to her. Her eyes, dulled by fatigue and cold, regained focus. At this late hour, there was only one person who would come to see her.

“Well now.”

The lock clicked open, and the one who entered was the Marquis. He bent slightly at the waist and greeted her with a gentle smile.

“It seems I’ve disturbed Your Grace’s sweet slumber.”

“…Marquis Redwood.”

“No, the divorce has been filed. I shouldn’t be calling you Archduchess anymore.”

At his words, Elaina felt her heart plummet. She stared at him in disbelief. Perhaps pleased by her expression, the Marquis’s smile deepened.

“It was all because of you from the beginning.”

“Don’t come any closer!”

“Everything began to unravel from the moment Diane’s marriage fell through.”

The Marquis yanked Elaina’s hair painfully. He laughed as she cried out in pain.

“Just what kind of trick did you pull?”

Elaina Grant, always a thorn in his side.

Thinking back, she had been at the center of everything—Diane’s broken engagement, the revival of the declining Grant family, even the villa in Deftia.

But what the Marquis couldn’t stand most was something else entirely.

“Even the great former Archduke succumbed to the ring’s power. So how did you do it?”

Ever since the day Lyle appeared at the council meeting in perfect condition, the Marquis had longed to ask her this question.

Elaina glared at him. “You think I’d tell you?”

She bit her lip.

Surely the Marquis hadn’t ridden all this way just to ask such a question.

At last, Elaina knew the end had come. She had believed Lyle would save her, but the Marquis had arrived first. Facing death made her legs tremble with fear, but she refused to show weakness to him.

As if to confirm her instincts, the Marquis held a dagger to her throat, its blade gleaming coldly. Blood trickled down her neck from where it touched.

“If you’re going to kill me, do it already. Stop dragging it out. Isn’t that why you came?”

Elaina’s voice rang out, proud and firm. Her fearless response caused the Marquis’s expression to harden for a moment.

‘Does she have something to rely on?’

Before climbing the tower, the Marquis had fully intended to make her suffer before killing her. He had already envisioned how.

Lyle Grant, staring helplessly at the burning tower. If, by some chance, he tried to save his wife and leapt into the flames—it would be even better.

Elaina’s composure, far too calm, irritated the suspicious Marquis.

He glanced out the window. When he had entered the forest, he had successfully shaken off Lyle Grant and his subordinates. Even if they were searching for the tower, it would take considerable time to find it.

There were no flaws in the Marquis’s plan. By the time Lyle Grant arrived, all he would be able to do was hear the Archduchess’s screams echoing from the burning tower. That sound would gnaw away at Lyle Grant’s sanity for the rest of his life.

The Archduchess surely knew there was nothing he could do. Though she tried to hide it, Elaina’s trembling body showed plainly how terrified she was.

But in the end, the Marquis let go of her hair. Things never went according to plan when it came to Elaina. His past failures with her stoked a growing unease.

“That’s right. But before you die, there’s one thing you can do.”

The Marquis pulled out his pen and placed it on the table. Then, jerking his chin toward her, he motioned for her to sit.

Elaina, her face stiff, reluctantly took the chair.

“Write exactly as I say. If you try anything foolish, I’ll kill you on the spot.”

The pen was sharp, but there was nothing she could do against the Marquis, who held a dagger. Clenching her teeth, Elaina stared only at the desk.

“Write your will. Say that it was Lyle Grant who imprisoned you in this tower, and that he also forced you to sign the divorce papers. You’re writing this secretly to reveal the truth of your unjust death.”

Elaina glared at him, but the Marquis sneered and waved the dagger before her eyes.

“Hurry up and write. Time is short.”

“No.”

At that moment, the dagger on the table pierced between Elaina’s fingers.

“Didn’t you hear Diane say it? I absolutely loathe being talked back to. Pick up the pen. I’ll let it go once, but not twice.”

The Marquis gave a grim warning. With trembling hands, Elaina picked up the pen. But she had no intention of writing the will.

It had been the Marquis who had forced her to sign the divorce papers. The one trying to kill her was also him. She couldn’t allow Lyle to be blamed for his crimes.

“Trying to buy time, are we? This isn’t the moment to be stalling.”

His voice came from above her head as she hesitated.

He began pouring something on the blanket Elaina had been using.

It was oil. The stench was overwhelming, and Elaina’s body broke into chills.

“It’s said burning is the most painful way to die. I’ll let you choose your method. Now then, which one would Your Grace the Archduchess prefer?”

Though he had no intention of sparing her, he smiled, saying that if she obeyed, at least he wouldn’t make her suffer needlessly.

Whether he killed her first and set the fire or burned her alive made no difference to him—either way, he gained.

But things did not go as the Marquis planned. Just after his cold warning, a faint neigh broke the silence.

For a moment, Elaina thought she had misheard. She brought both hands to her mouth in shock, tears instantly welling up.

The Marquis’s face twisted at her reaction. He had heard it too. There was only one person who could have come to this place.

“Damn it.”

The Marquis swore and pulled a match from his coat. Lyle Grant had arrived sooner than expected. But it didn’t change the outcome.

He struck the match, and a small flame flickered to life. He tossed it onto the oil-soaked blanket.

The fire roared to life in an instant.

As Elaina tried to flee, the Marquis caught her and stabbed her in the thigh with his dagger.

“Aaargh…!”

“Yes, scream like that! So your husband can hear you better.”

The Marquis locked the door and rushed down the tower. He had to leave before Lyle and his party arrived.

But as the Marquis descended the tower, Lyle arrived at its base.

“Marquis Redwood!”

Lyle dismounted, his eyes wild, and grabbed the Marquis by the collar. Even as he choked, the Marquis laughed.

Yes, this was the moment he had so longed to see with his own eyes—the moment Lyle Grant fell into the abyss of despair.

“Is this really the time for this? You’d best hurry up the tower, unless you want to find a charred corpse.”

Lyle’s eyes turned toward the tower. Smoke was rising through the small windows.

He threw the Marquis aside and charged up the stairs. Tripping, nearly crawling, he scrambled upward.

The Marquis sneered as he watched the foolish Lyle Grant’s frantic retreat.