The Crown I Will Take From You - Chapter 333

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Part 2, Chapter 180

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The interior of the cave was suffocatingly cold.

Even calling it a cave, it barely managed to block the snow-laden wind.

Cold air still rose from the floor, and the atmosphere was unpleasantly damp.

Medeia hurriedly checked Chezare’s condition.

His lips were parched dry, and his sculpted face was covered in wounds.

On his back, blood had dried over sword wounds that had been forcibly pulled out, and his entire body was full of injuries.

Judging from the traces of corpses outside the cave and the long trail of bloodstains along the ground, he seemed to have dealt with the supernatural beasts and crawled here before finally losing consciousness.

“Chezare,”

Medeia unconsciously shook him.

“Wake up. Hm? I’m here.”

The dagger that had stabbed his back must have been poisoned.

“My whole body… feels like a fireball.”

Medeia quickly took out holy water and made Chezare drink it.

However, the effect wasn’t significant.

Her heart felt like it was sinking.

For a moment, fearing that the nightmare might truly become reality, Medeia froze.

“Quickly, I need to alert the others.”

With trembling hands, Medeia took out a smoke flare and lit it.

But the faint flame was soon swallowed by the damp cartridge and extinguished.

When she had rolled in the snow earlier, the smoke flare had gotten wet along with Medeia.

Outside, fierce snowstorms were raging again.

‘What should I do? If we stay like this, Chezare will be in danger.’

As time passed, she became increasingly anxious, her heart tightening.

Neigh!

Then, beyond the blade-like sound of wind, she heard a familiar cry.

“Silva!”

At the entrance of the cave stood a white horse.

“How did you come? How on earth did you find this place?”

As if understanding Medeia’s words, Silva stamped his feet to show friendliness and pointed with his muzzle toward the golden thread.

“The light… it continues further?”

Even after guiding Medeia to this cave where Chezare was, the golden thread had not disappeared.

As if the journey was not yet over.

“…”

Medeia hesitated for a moment.

Chezare’s condition was too urgent to wait for rescue.

‘Right, it’s better to follow that light than to remain in this cold cave.’

Whatever the outcome might be, just as the Goddess had led her to Chezare, Medeia was certain that the place the golden thread guided to would not be a bad place.

A short while later.

“Ugh…”

Medeia groaned as she bandaged the wounds of the unconscious Chezare.

Silva perceptively approached and bent his knees to make it easier to load him.

Moving an unconscious grown man onto a horse was by no means easy.

Perhaps because of this, whether she had touched his wounds, groans escaped from Chezare’s mouth even while unconscious.

“Sorry, Chezare. Just bear with it a little.”

Stroking his forehead that was furrowed in pain, Medeia murmured.

“Silva, we’re going to follow this light like before. You can do it, right? Can you see it?”

Neigh-!

Like a true noble steed, Silva showed no difficulty even while carrying two people through the snowfield.

“Just a little, just endure a little more.”

As Chezare’s breathing grew fainter, Medeia became even more anxious.

She continuously pressed her ear to Chezare’s chest to check his heartbeat.

Medeia wrapped him tightly with her own clothes so the snow-laden wind wouldn’t reach Chezare’s face, then spurred Silva on.

“Silva, faster, we need to go faster.”

Medeia urged Silva on, paying no heed to the snow-laden wind that stung her cheeks.

Perhaps sensing his master’s anxiety, Silva, who had been smoothly racing across the snow-covered mountain, suddenly stopped.

“Silva, you can’t stop. We need to hurry…”

Medeia raised her head.

“Who’s there?”

Someone was standing in front of her.

* * *

Sharp wind brushed against Chezare’s cheek.

‘Whether they stab me to death or burn me to death, their ultimate goal is clear.’

Even in that critical moment, he seemed to have had such thoughts.

Instead of panicking, Chezare grabbed the Black Mage who was trying to escape behind the bleeding mage and threw himself off the cliff.

The mage’s flames didn’t reach Chezare, but Chezare’s aura was different.

“Uh, urgh…”

The tip of the extending black aura barely grazed the mage’s throat.

The mage’s eyes widened as he clutched his throat, blood spurting out.

The Black Mage and Chezare who had fallen like that engaged in fierce combat, tumbling over each other.

Just before the ice spikes touched his back, the barrier activated by the Black Mage covered them again.

“Hahahaha! Chezare! Let’s see if you can escape this hell again! Since you ruined our grand plan, I’ll definitely take you with me. Definitely…!”

Even while dying, the Central Seat Black Mage didn’t stop cursing Chezare.

“It’s regrettable that I have no more magical power left. I should pour all the primordial darkness onto you before I go… Urgh… Pour…”

Until his breath stopped, he died with such malicious hatred in his eyes.

“…So the barrier remains even after death.”

Chezare frowned as he got up.

The supernatural beasts within the barrier were glaring at him, approaching step by step.

“Grrrrr…”

He readjusted his grip on his sword.

His back complained of pain and gradually stiffened.

The dagger the mage had stabbed him with earlier must have been poisoned.

It was somewhat uncomfortable, but nothing new.

Wasn’t this just one of many times he’d faced overlapping crises?

“Kyaaaak!”

“Kaak!”

One, two…

At some point, Chezare stopped counting the number of supernatural beasts he cut down.

They only targeted Chezare’s life, the sole target within the barrier.

The World Tree sap and holy water he had were gradually running out, and at some point, his wounds stopped healing.

After cutting them down one by one like that, everything became quiet. The snowstorm began to rage fiercely.

Chezare dragged his tired body to find shelter from the snowstorm.

Even in that moment, he didn’t think of death. No, he tried not to think of it.

“I will definitely survive.”

Because he had to return to Medeia.

When he recalled those vivid green eyes that remained clear even when he closed his eyes, surprising strength welled up from his stiffened body.

This couldn’t be what people call the last burst of strength before death.

“Ha.”

At some point, he found himself laughing.

I tried not to think about the end, but I could feel the heat within me gradually dying out.

‘Dea, I haven’t fulfilled your wish yet.’

He had survived even when consumed by the Primordial Darkness.

He couldn’t stop so futilely like this…

Chezare’s hand twitched. The dark cave was exactly like black space.

What caught his gaze within it was neither the golden Imperial Throne nor the Emperor’s crown.

It was the quietly glowing yellow Venus. Green radiance seemed to hover faintly around it.

Chezare unconsciously reached out his hand to grasp it.

Because that was his only lingering attachment.

But soon, thud, his arm fell onto the cold cave floor.

Thinking this was rather pathetic for what he had considered his final struggle.

Thinking he hoped she would never know of this sight.

Somehow her last face, looking up at him like a lost child, kept remaining in his heart.

‘I shouldn’t have left like that.’

Chezare had thought there was no such thing as regret.

But now, for the first time, he seemed to vaguely understand why people lived carrying remorse.

I should have made her smile. From the beginning, that one thing would have been enough, yet I stubbornly acted like a child for no reason.

His thoughts were cut off along with a thread of regret.

“Are you coming to your senses?”

When he opened his eyes again, the scene of a warm room entered his vision.

It was a small room with the faint scent of medicine and herbs.

A middle-aged man with a mustache was looking down at him.

“Oh my, what a relief. I thought we’d be holding a funeral!”

Chezare, who had been trying to sit up, paused.

He felt a faint force gripping his arm.

That force, too weak to shake off, somehow prevented him from moving even a finger.

“My wife seems to cherish you greatly. Even while collapsing, she held onto you tightly. Don’t complain about the narrow bed. If you’ve come back from the dead, you should be grateful, shouldn’t you?”

The middle-aged man’s grumbling didn’t reach his ears once he discovered the silver hair scattered over the small blanket.

Chezare unconsciously reached out and brushed the hair aside.

A delicate face was revealed.

“…You’ll spend your lifetime repaying your wife. She came through that treacherous mountain terrain, battling through blizzards, and persisted until she could confirm your condition.”

“…”

“Seeing how she endured without batting an eye even when the fever was raging like that, even I didn’t notice. Getting such a wife is the fortune of three lifetimes.”

From the man’s words, Chezare could grasp the general situation.

He hadn’t even imagined that she would come to rescue him.

Chezare carefully reached out and smoothed Medeia’s hair.

The faint scratches remaining on her pale cheeks clawed at his heart.

At the same time, his head boiled with emotion.

While he was furious that Medeia had come all the way to this remote place to find him, and that she had nearly been hurt because of it,

there was himself who couldn’t hide his base joy at all of this.

‘Dea, you’re looking for me too. Even if not as much as I do, you need me.’

Yes. That alone was enough.

Chezare traced her jawline with his fingertips, then slowly intertwined their fingers.

His large, firm hand wrapped around Medeia’s hand like shackles.

Chezare leaned down.

The lips that touched the back of her bound hand carried a weight that was both overwhelming and tender.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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