The Husband I Thought Was Dead Has Returned - Chapter 39

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Husband Who Should Have Died Returns Episode 039
“That barbaric maggot! He deserves to be torn limb from limb and left to die!”
As Petunia trembled with rage, Morigan offered her a warm cup of honey water.
“If you continue like this, you’ll only exhaust yourself, my lady.”
Petunia drank the honey water. The sweetness cleared her mind, and reason returned to her.
Petunia clenched her teeth and breathed heavily.
‘Leave this place by tomorrow evening. If you’re still lingering around by then, I’ll show you why I’m the Duke of the Southern Region.’
The Duke of Bereidan had clearly meant every word.
I understood that he had nearly lost his life by that blade.
Petunia pressed her forehead. After another sip of the warm honey water, breathing became easier.
With trembling hands, she composed herself. Yes, this wouldn’t do. I simply had to complete my task.
And then I could leave as I wished.
“Phew. I’m fine now.”
“You mustn’t overexert yourself, my lady. You’ll damage your health.”
Petunia clenched her teeth.
“This is all because that dog I sent out failed to do her job properly. I failed to teach my daughter correctly.”
Petunia’s eyes gleamed coldly.
Blue veins bulged across the back of her hands as she gripped the desk.
“What happened with the mercenaries? Did she meet them yesterday? What did they say?”
“I went to check, but they had vacated the premises. A few remained, but they seemed to know nothing.”
Petunia spoke through gritted teeth.
“Move quickly. Go find them again right now. Since I must leave by tomorrow evening, I need to settle everything before then.”
“And you, my lady…?”
“I cannot break a promise to my friend, can I?”
Petunia smiled coldly. Even after I leave, there will be plenty to carry out my will.
I intended to strike at their weak points. A blade driven from within cuts deeper, doesn’t it?
I would make them die in terror, unable to distinguish friend from foe.
Morigan bowed his head.

* * *
Meanwhile, on the second floor of a tavern in the Market Back Alley.
The Lean Man sat alone, waiting for someone. His beard had grown longer than before, and exhaustion etched itself deeply across his face. Bandages wrapped around his right hand. Blood seeped through the cloth as he clenched his fist.
Everything that had happened in Bereidan remained vivid in his mind.
Until now, I had only dealt fear to others—never experienced it myself.
That raw, visceral reality of possibly dying. And those desperate pleas for mercy that had escaped my own lips unbidden.
The phantom images of others who had clung to my feet, begging for their lives, flickered before me.
‘Bah! I’ll have my revenge! Curse them all! I’ll kill them!’
I had laughed at such curses once, but it seemed divine retribution was indeed real. That cold, shadowed face. A visage carved from marble—it had burned itself into my memory like a brand.
Those cool blue eyes held such overwhelming pressure that my heart had shriveled within my chest.
Baek-an had failed to read the atmosphere and paid with his life, his throat slit. Now I understood why no one dared to trifle with the Southern Region, why everyone envied it. It was a sanctuary protected by Bereidan.
Only now did I grasp what the House of Bereidan had accumulated on the battlefield year after year. The man trembled violently.
Those final words that had clung to me as I fled for my life still echoed in my ears.
‘More information will keep you alive longer.’
I wanted to live. For a mercenary, survival is the paramount principle. On the first floor, Knight Order members waited in mercenary disguise. They were as crude and vulgar as any sellsword.
They had infiltrated this place with terrifying seamlessness.
Now there was only one thing I could do.
Become a puppet dancing exactly as the Duke of Bereidan desired.
The stairs creaked. A familiar rhythm.
It was him.
“Cough. Oh, I didn’t expect you to come.”
“I haven’t heard from Beltria. Why haven’t you contacted me?”
Morigan glanced around the room once before sitting across from him.
“Something came up.”
The man held up his bandaged right hand.
“A different job went wrong.”
Morigan scrutinized the man’s appearance. The wounds were real, and so was the pain.
“As you can see, I wasn’t in a position to contact you.”
Morigan nodded. It seemed he was letting it pass for now.
“So what’s the result? How did it go?”
“…It seems the Duchess did betray us after all.”
In that moment, the man’s voice trembled slightly. He pinched his thigh hard.
I couldn’t let it show.
I absolutely couldn’t let it show.
Morigan sighed and leaned back against the sofa.
“I suspected as much. Then remove her as promised.”
“Understood.”
The man answered and paused for a beat.
“But now that I’m in this state, I’ve developed something called caution, you see.”
“What do you mean? Are you saying you need more money? If that’s the case—”
“I need to know how dangerous this truly is.”
The Assassin swallowed hard.
“Who’s behind this? The Duchess? I overlooked that my own neck was on the line.”
Morigan’s expression twisted.
“This isn’t about money. If I fail, the Duke of Bereidan will kill me.”
The Assassin raised his bandaged hand for emphasis.
“You said you’d clean up after me. I need to know what position this client holds. Whether they can hide me or discard me.”
Morigan’s voice dropped lower.
“Don’t ask strange questions. I can save your life easily enough.”
“What’s your relationship with House Bereidan?”
“Listen here.”
“Where did you come from?”
My words tumbled faster, driven by urgency. The man across from me was proving far more difficult than anticipated.
The Assassin’s jaw trembled.
“You should stop. This isn’t different from what was promised. Why suddenly….”
Morigan rose from his seat. Something felt wrong. The Assassin followed, pushing himself up as well.
“Speak, speak to me!”
Morigan turned toward the door. The moment his hand touched the handle, it swung open.
“…Sir Borgus.”
Sir Borgus stood with his hands clasped behind his back, then lifted his gaze to acknowledge Morigan.
Morigan stepped backward.
Sir Borgus entered with a sigh.
“I heard with these ears a request for murder, plain and clear.”
Morigan clenched his teeth. This was a trap laid exactly as intended. There would be no escape for him.
Sir Borgus gestured with his chin.
The knights behind him slammed Morigan and the Assassin standing behind him to the ground.
“Cough!”
Pressed against the floor, Morigan turned his head.
“When you enter someone else’s home, you should remain quiet and leave.”
Sir Borgus spoke with deliberate slowness. Morigan, his cheek crushed against the ground, coughed violently.
The Assassin, sprawled on the floor, spoke rapidly.
“He never revealed who’s behind this. I asked about the hooded woman, but he refused to say. It’s the truth.”
Sir Borgus nodded. He showed no particular surprise.
In truth, he had never expected Morigan to reveal his backer. This entire setup was designed to capture Morigan.
“Acting alone, then?”
“Kill me.”
At Morigan’s response, Sir Borgus’s lips curled upward. Morigan would never speak. He was not a man who would betray the master he had served so long.
Still, once I lost a hand like him, the Duchess would understand.
What happens when you touch Bereidan.
“I arrest Morigan Artman on suspicion of attempted assassination of the Duchess of Bereidan.”
Now it was Petunia Hejest’s turn to regret ever setting foot in this place.

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