Chapter 399: By Her Side
Evelia had plenty of strength, but after so many years of working as a light-footed assassin, she relied more on skill than raw power.
Armand, however, was different.
Raised and trained with the goal of becoming a “power-type warrior,” what he liked best was using overwhelming force to crush obstacles.
Because of the poison in his body, his health in the past had never been good, and it got worse year after year. In his twenties he should have been in his prime, but in truth his body was already far older than his age suggested.
He could still swing his greatsword, but his strength was no longer what it once was. Later on, there was even a faint sense of “a hero in decline” about him, and combined with what seemed like a never-ending “retirement,” Armand felt a kind of weariness far beyond his years.
But now… while it couldn’t exactly be called a “rebirth,” it was close to a complete remake. In the most literal, physical sense.
Rachel spent a fortune recreating a body for him, perfectly replicating every detail recorded in the crystal, like a life-sized, flawless Armand statue brought to life.
Now, there was no deadly toxin in his body. His physique had been enhanced far beyond even his younger peak, and with years of battle experience on top of that, Armand was far stronger now than he’d ever been, even compared to his time working at the House of Nightingales.
The price, however, was that while the poison was gone, so was his immunity to it.
Rachel still couldn’t recreate the unique alchemical toxin that had once run through his body, and unlike White Dove, she didn’t have a collection of “animal friends” to test poisons on. Removing the toxin also meant removing Armand’s resistance to all poisons.
—Which theoretically meant certain “aphrodisiac-type” potions would now work on him as well.
Perhaps Evelia’s… overly forward tendencies in the past had left too deep an impression, because when Rachel realized Armand’s immunity was gone, her first thought wasn’t about assassination attempts in the future, but rather about Evelia possibly using some strange substance on him.
Of course, hallucinogens fell under that category as well.
When Armand learned he had lost his immunity, he became even more cautious toward White Dove. Even now, he still suspected that the Evelia in front of him might be a hallucination.
While tracking White Dove’s trail, he had indeed fallen for one of his tricks before. Under the influence of the drug, he truly believed he had brought Evelia back to the home he had long prepared for them, until Rachel woke him from that dream. Only then did he realize, in a daze, that in reality he hadn’t even found her yet.
After Armand’s “death,” Evelia had vanished without a trace. The only clue was the group from the House of Nightingales that Rachel had encountered, especially White Dove, the one who had personally killed her.
When Armand first woke up in his new body, he could barely adapt to it. Stumbling out of bed, he half-wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his days traveling in a wheelchair.
Because his soul hadn’t fully merged with his new body yet, there were times when he would simply “freeze” halfway through doing something, and Rachel would have to give him a sharp whack to get him moving again.
And with the hallucinogens White Dove had scattered during his investigations, Armand had felt as if he were living in a constant blur of dreams and reality. Even after getting used to his new body, the experience left him deeply wary.
So now, when he saw White Dove, he still kept his “suspect everything first” mindset. He opened his palm, and with a thud, his heavy black greatsword dropped into his grip, the clang of his metal gauntlet against the hilt scraping in a way that made White Dove tense.
Although Armand was in full disguise, White Dove, having already investigated his past, knew exactly who this was. In fact, years ago, when he attacked the Second Prince’s carriage, Armand had looked exactly the same.
At first, White Dove was puzzled about how this man had shown up here at all. After all, he had seen him truly die right in front of him. He had even drained most of his blood himself. Yet here he was again? Could it be an impersonator? But what would be the point of pretending to be a black-clad man whose real identity no one knew anyway?
Then, thinking about the “little one” who had just kicked him and then vanished somewhere, White Dove suddenly realized.
Ah, so that’s how it is. It was that “alchemist.” The one who really did have the ability to bring the dead back to life.
Evelia glanced toward where Armand was, then almost as if to stop herself from sinking deeper into feelings she had struggled so hard to endure, she didn’t look at the dark figure again. She didn’t let herself recall the moment when they first watched fireworks together from the clock tower. Instead, she wiped the blood from the wound on her cheek, gripped her dagger, and straightened her posture.
Although she had only seen this particular outfit once before, and only learned later that it was Armand, she could recognize him from his stance alone. That was the sharp instinct of a professional assassin, and also the love she had for Armand.
The two of them stood so close, yet neither dared to look at the other for more than a second, both burying their emotions deep inside, afraid this might be yet another trap.
“Awooo!”
This time, it was White Dove who made the first move.
Specifically to keep Armand busy, White Dove summoned a large wolf. Without any warning or windup, it lunged straight at Armand, jaws wide—
Slash.
But the fight ended instantly. In a flash of black steel, the wolf was split clean in half.
Blood sprayed from the bisected body, scattering into the air, splashing onto the ground, staining his greatsword, and spattering across his cloak. Drip… drip… like a rainstorm of blood.
Brute-force combat like this was what Armand excelled at most. He could even joke, “All thanks to the training at the House of Nightingales.”
The vivid red exploded before Evelia’s eyes. In her hallucination, the snowy ground suddenly had a patch dyed crimson, and the black figure stood right in the middle of it, deliberately avoiding looking her way.
…What a strange Armand.
She wanted to call his name in this hallucination, but she held herself back. Instead, she stepped forward, walking across the blood.
Each step left bloody footprints on the snow. Perhaps it was Armand’s presence that reassured her, though she still believed she was inside a hallucination, the snowfall seemed lighter now, the air a little warmer, as if they really were keeping their promise to get through the winter together.
She stopped beside him. Afraid that touching the image might make it vanish into thin air, she kept a small distance between them, standing shoulder to shoulder as wolves and crows surrounded them.
This was probably the first time she had ever fought side by side with Armand…
Looking at the crouched wolves ready to spring, she no longer felt the panic and urgency she’d had before.
This feeling… it was so new.
As expected, no matter what happens… as long as Mr. Armand is here, everything will be fine.
So unfair of you, Mr. Armand.
With you like this… there’s no way I can forget you, no way I can let go…
If only… you were really here by my side… Mr. Armand…