The Male Lead Has Gone Mad Over the Troublesome Villainess - Chapter 42

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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 Male Lead Has Gone Mad Over the Villainous Woman — Episode 42
And so to Seraphine and Kael.
“According to you, there are no casualties?”
“That is correct, Your Highness. Thanks to the young lady’s swift action and sound judgment, all have been spared.”
Kael rubbed his temples.
“What of those bitten by the creature’s fangs?”
Kael’s voice dropped. He had crossed paths with the werewolf clan several times before, and he understood their danger better than most. Each individual was formidable, but the real threat lay in what happened to the bitten—they transformed into Werewolves. They were, in essence, a plague given form.
Seraphine, having walked alongside Kael for so long, was one of the few who grasped this truth.
“…Only one sustained a deep bite. The fangs caught the place where shoulder meets neck.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. There was no way to undo what had been done.
Kael swept his hair back and gestured to Seraphine. As they drew closer, he spoke in a low voice.
“I trust only you in this. Should the infected show any signs of transformation… end it.”
Seraphine’s eyes squeezed shut. Yet he knew this was the only way—and a mercy, too. A chance for his comrade to die human.
“The infected one’s name?”
“Coras. His name is Coras.”
A companion Seraphine had weathered countless trials alongside.
“He was always joking, always laughing.”
“I will remember Coras. His honor I entrust to you.”
Seraphine bowed his head. Kael’s grip on his shoulder was heavy with unspoken weight—a burden of trust and sorrow. This was the scene Rosana had witnessed.
* * *
Once his conversation with Seraphine ended, Kael summoned Hald. The man abandoned his task of collecting the Werewolf Fangs and approached, receiving swift orders.
They could not remain in the forest as night fell. According to their gathered intelligence, Gracestone’s nights were incomparably more dangerous than its days. They needed to reach safer ground.
“We move to the nearest city. Guide us there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Prepare for departure. Make haste!”
At Kael’s command, the Supply Carts were cleared to make room for the wounded. In one corner of a cart, huddled like luggage, someone crouched.
It was Mirel. A knight checking the cart spoke to her.
“Young lady, you must move aside. We need to transport the injured.”
“I’ve told you a dozen times I can’t walk! Is no one listening? Bring the Crown Prince at once—no, bring anyone else!”
As Mirel snapped irritably, the knight cursed under his breath and called for Millers. The moment he arrived and saw Mirel, he sighed heavily.
“Why did you even come along?”
“I came to attend the Crown Prince! Not to suffer like this!”
Mirel shrieked. Millers rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t trouble Kael over something so trivial.
Kael was deep in serious discussion with the other advisors. Millers slammed the cart door shut on the insufferable brat inside.
There was no time to drag her out. Damn all nobility—every last one of them was the same!
Millers, himself a noble, voiced his contempt aloud.
“Load all remaining supplies onto this cart and clear the other one. Put the children and wounded there. As for her—just treat her like a sack of grain!”
“Yes, Sir Millers.”
Mirel’s shouts echoed from inside, but no one answered anymore.
Following Millers’ orders, supplies began piling into the cart. Inside, Mirel ground her teeth, swearing she would slaughter every one of these wretches who dared treat her this way.
* * *
The first city they encountered upon entering Gracestone was Alata. According to the records, it was merely a waypoint—the expedition’s true base was Gloria, once counted among Gracestone’s greatest cities.
As they entered Alata before heading toward Gloria, the first thing they noticed was an unnerving silence.
Though monsters were said to occupy the place, nothing stirred. Only human bones lay scattered across the ground.
They reached the administrative building as the sun began to set.
Three stories tall, its walls were as thick as a man’s arm-span and its windows narrow. Most crucially, it had only one entrance.
“This should be the safest location in Alata, Your Highness,” Hald said, wringing his hands.
Kael sent a handful of soldiers inside first. It took half an hour for them to emerge from their inspection.
“All clear, my lord. There are old monster corpses deeper inside, but no signs of life remain.”
Kael spoke curtly.
“We move inside.”
The remaining members spent the night in the bank building adjacent to the administrative hall.
This truly was Gracestone.
* * *
Sleep did not come that night.
Vanessa lay against the wall where the children slept; rather than wake her, Rosana slipped out quietly. Outside, the night was far brighter than expected. The full moon hung huge and luminous in a cloudless sky, washing everything in pale silver. On such a night, torchlight proved unnecessary even in darkness.
Walking beneath the moonlight, Rosana spotted Seraphine sitting before a small campfire.
“Seraphine?”
Another figure sat beside him, wrapped in a blanket drawn up to hide their face, their body trembling faintly beneath.
Seraphine lifted his head.
And the moment our eyes met, Seraphine’s face hardened. It was the first time I’d ever seen him wear such an expression.
“Please leave, miss. Go back now.”
“……What?”
“I’m asking you kindly. Please return home.”
My feet stopped of their own accord. Then a voice drifted from beneath the blanket.
“Ah, come now. You’ll frighten our guest away like that.”
There was laughter threaded through that raspy voice.
As the blanket slipped lower, a face emerged. A familiar face. The man who’d laughed loudest just days ago when the children were shooting with slingshots, who’d joined our games of tag without a moment’s hesitation. I could not have failed to recognize him.
My gaze drifted carefully downward. Thick cloth was wound tightly around his left shoulder, running down toward the base of his neck.
Dark red blood was seeping through.
“……Seraphine.”
Seraphine said nothing in reply.
“My name is Coras, miss. I regret never having introduced myself properly until now.”
Coras drew the blanket up slightly.
“I think it would bring me great joy if you would stay with me at the end.”
The man chuckled in that gravelly voice of his.
“The more people to see you off, the better, I’d say.”
A bright smile crossed his face. He shifted carefully to sit beside Seraphine. Coras drew a shuddering breath and opened his mouth.
“Did you know, miss? When Seraphine first learned swordplay—”
“Coras.”
Coras chuckled, then coughed. The cough didn’t sound human. He’d been talking on and on, but now he looked up at the sky. His eyes were turning red.
“I think it’s beginning now, Seraphine.”
“Not yet.”
Seraphine’s voice trembled for the first time.
Coras fell silent for a long while. Then he drew the blanket back up.
“……Thank you, my friend.”
How much time had passed?
“Seraphine, and miss. It has been an honor to be with you both. And to part with proper words between us—a true honor indeed.”
“The Empire will remember you, old friend.”
Seraphine’s words came out choked with grief. Then he grabbed my shoulder and turned me away. Behind me, I heard the sound of a blade being drawn. The moment of losing a companion was always unbearable.
I bowed my head and held my breath, counting numbers silently—the same way I’d hidden in a wardrobe as a child, counting while debt collectors chased through the house.

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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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