Meaning Behind Curses

Celia's Perspective:

I settled into the chair by the window, curling my legs up as the sky outside burned orange with the sunset. The book in my lap was old, its pages worn and fragile, but I couldn't put it down.

I had started this out of curiosity—just another attempt to understand the strange whispers in my head. But the more I read, the more I realized that this wasn't just some story about an ancient, terrifying sorceress. Every page felt like it was describing me.

The Queen of Curses.

I swallowed hard, skimming through paragraphs of fearsome titles and grim descriptions. Then my eyes landed on the first horrifying ability.

The Queen of Curses had the power to turn the dead into her cursed soldiers.

Oh. Okay. That was… a lot.

It meant she could create an army whenever she wanted—no need for recruitment, food, or morale. Just bodies obeying her will, fighting endlessly. I frowned. That was more than terrifying. That was unfair. Like, imagine spending your whole life training to be an adventurer, only to die and still have to work? No thanks.

I kept reading.

Then came the worst part. Her passive abilities. Just existing near her was a curse.

Throne of Ruin

"A passive aura of decay and misfortune. Anyone in her presence slowly loses strength, their magic weakens, and their mind crumbles under unseen whispers."

I sat up straighter. That sounded familiar. Too familiar. My whole life, people avoided me, acted like I was bringing misfortune just by being there.

I flipped the page quickly, heart pounding.

Eternal Malediction

"A single curse that never fades, marking a target with irreversible suffering. No magic, no divine blessing can remove it."

I held my breath. A curse that can never be lifted. My fingers twitched against the book's worn spine. My own life had been filled with whispers of misfortune, of people muttering that I was cursed. Had I… done something without realizing it? No, that wasn't possible. Right?

The next part made my skin crawl.

Eyes of the Forsaken (Unbreakable Curse)

"A curse that forces a person to see every horrifying future they might experience, breaking their mind with infinite visions of their own suffering."

My hands clenched into fists. That was… horrible. Unfair. Imagine never being able to see hope—only an endless loop of the worst possibilities? No wonder everyone feared her.

But then came the final, most terrifying revelation.

The Queen's Ultimate Curse – "The Last Word"

"Her most feared ability, a curse that activates upon her death. If she is slain, her soul explodes into thousands of curse fragments, infecting the world and ensuring that her existence never truly ends. Her enemies are doomed to suffer her will for eternity."

A curse that even death couldn't erase.

My breath hitched. That was why she was hated. Why people feared even her memory. It wasn't just her power—it was the fact that she was inescapable.

Then, my gaze landed on a single, chilling sentence:

Her enemies will forever hate anything that relates to her.

I froze.

…Wait.

Was that why?

Was that why people looked at me with so much hatred, even before they knew me? It wasn't me they hated. It was my resemblance to her.

I swallowed, my fingers trembling as I turned the page. My eyes skimmed through descriptions of the Queen's appearance.

An intricate black dress, an aura of mystery and murderous intent, a hooded cloak.

Snowy-white hair. Piercing red eyes, gleaming with a murderous gaze.

I reached up, hesitantly touching a strand of my own white hair.

My hair. The one thing people always commented on, always whispered about.

They weren't wrong. I really did look like her.

I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly remembering the fear in people's eyes whenever I walked by. The way they instinctively recoiled. It wasn't just bad luck. It wasn't just superstition. It was history.

I turned to the window, watching the last light of the sun fade. My reflection stared back at me, and for the first time, I hesitated to meet my own gaze.

Then the whispers started again.

"You are her."

"You can do more than she could ever did."

"You don't even need to try. You're already stronger."

I clenched my jaw, gripping the book as I willed my mind to silence. No. No, that wasn't true. It wasn't.

But… what if it was?

I hesitated, then looked down at the book again. A new chapter. The next section.

Basic Cursed Magic.

I exhaled slowly, steadying my nerves. If I really had some kind of connection to her… if the whispers were right…

Then I needed to know the truth.

Determined, I turned the page.

And I started reading.

The book rested on my lap, open to a page labeled "Withering Touch"—a simple curse, supposedly the easiest one to perform.

"A simple curse that saps strength from whatever it touches, feeding on negative emotions."

I read the description again, humming softly as I tapped my chin.

So basically… it's a depressing touch? A magic trick fueled by my personal misery?

I leaned forward, scanning through the details.

"Decay with me."

That was the incantation. It could be spoken or thought, meaning I didn't have to say it out loud if I didn't want to. It wasn't meant to kill or destroy, just… drain. The target wouldn't rot into dust or crumble apart, but it would feel the weight of my emotions—my sadness, my frustration, my loneliness—until it weakened under them.

It reminded me of how I felt sometimes when people glared at me for existing. Heavy, slow, like all the energy was being sapped out of my soul.

"Cursed magic connects to the soul's burden, using the wielder's emotions as a conduit."

I nodded to myself. So that's how it worked. Negative emotions became fuel. The stronger the feelings, the stronger the effect.

"Alright, got it!" I clapped my hands, feeling determined. "Time to try it!"

I placed the book carefully on the chair and looked around. I needed a test subject.

My eyes landed on a small flower sitting in a vase on the dining table. A delicate red rose-like bloom, petals full and soft, swaying slightly from the evening breeze drifting through the window.

I hesitated.

It was just a flower, but still… it felt wrong to experiment on something so pretty.

I puffed my cheeks and folded my arms. "Would they judge me for this?"

Immediately, my imagination answered.

Levi: "You're playing with flowers? You really are a kid." (Shrugs and walks off.)

Emma: (Gives me a thumbs-up.) "Good luck! Hope it dies painfully!"

Kaiser: (Smirks) "What are you doing?"

Me: "Nothing!"

Kaiser: "Oh, really? Because it looks like you're holding your hand over that flower like you're proposing to me."

Me: "What?! No! I'm not proposing to you!"

Kaiser: "Are you sure? I mean, it is a beautiful flower... but I didn't know you were so bold."

Me: "Kaiser!! It's just a curse, okay? Not a proposal!"

Kaiser: (Laughs) "Well, it's nice to know I'm not the only one you're interested in."

I shook my head, breaking free from my own nonsense.

"Okay, focus!" I held my hand over the flower and took a deep breath. "Here we go…"

"Decay with me."

I waited.

Nothing.

I frowned. Maybe I did it wrong?

I closed my eyes and tried again. "Decay with me."

The flower just sat there. Vibrant. Unaffected. Probably judging me.

I narrowed my eyes. One more time.

...No effect.

...Again.

Still nothing.

…Another.

Nope.

I kept going for minutes, hand stretched out dramatically, pouring all my "cursed magic" into the helpless flower like some kind of weird plant psychic.

After what felt like forever, I slumped onto the table, arms sprawled out in defeat.

"The whispers call me the Queen of Curses, but I can't even make a flower droop."

If they could see me now, they'd be so disappointed.

I exhaled sharply. "Alright, alright. I remember the book said I need to feel something."

I sat up, tapping my fingers against the table, thinking. Sadness? Loneliness? Frustration?

Hmm… what made me feel frustrated?

My mind immediately jumped to a recent memory.

Kaiser.

Leaving the house.

Without telling me.

I had searched everywhere, worried sick something happened to him—only to find him near the river, casually working out like it was nothing.

And when I scolded him for disappearing?

"Don't worry about it."

...Don't worry about it.

Like hell, Kaiser. I was ready to flip the entire town over looking for you!

That frustration boiled up inside me. I clenched my fist, focused back on the flower, and whispered:

"Decay with me."

This time—something happened.

The flower's petals dimmed, its red hue paling just a little. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. I did it.

I jumped up, eyes sparkling. "I DID IT! I REALLY DID IT!"

I spun in circles, fists in the air. "Hah! Take that, stupid whispers! I couldn't even curse a leaf! But now? HA!"

I struck a victory pose, one leg up on the chair, pointing dramatically at nothing in particular. "Cursed magic: mastered!"

I was grinning ear to ear. I could actually use cursed magic!

I turned back to the flower, ready to try again—but the moment I reached out, nothing happened.

I blinked.

Wait…

I tried again. Still nothing.

Slowly, realization dawned on me.

The curse was gone.

Because I was too happy.

My face twisted into a goofy, betrayed expression. "Wait—so I can't use cursed magic if I'm happy?! That's so stupid!"

I groaned loudly, rubbing my temples. "Ughh, fine! Sorrow! I need sorrow!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, digging through old memories.

...People hating me for something I couldn't control.

...Their whispers, their disgust whenever they saw me.

...The feeling of being pushed aside, alone for years.

I felt the weight settle over me.

When I opened my eyes, I saw it.

The flower dimmed further, the petals losing more of their rich color.

My fingers hovered over it, curiosity sparking in my mind.

"The book says sadness, frustration, and loneliness fuel this technique."

I tilted my head.

"But what about other emotions? Could I fuel cursed magic with… something else?"

Could rage create flames? Could envy create chains? Could fear create illusions?

My eyes lit up with excitement. I had just barely figured out cursed magic—

And already, I was coming up with theories.

I had already tried sorrow and frustration, and the results weren't too bad—the flower definitely looked weaker. But if I wanted to get better at this, I needed to experiment with more emotions. The book said that negative emotions fuel cursed magic. That meant there were plenty more to test.

I took a deep breath and placed my fingers just above the petals. Time to see what else I can dig up.

Despair.

I thought about the days when I was completely alone. The years of being unwanted, of wandering without a place to belong. No family, no friends. No warmth. The feeling of being nothing more than a ghost in the world, unseen, unheard.

I clenched my fingers slightly, feeling my heart sink into that darkness.

"Decay with me."

The flower… barely reacted. A faint flicker of something, but not much more than before.

Huh. So despair isn't that strong? That was kind of surprising. Maybe I was already too used to it? Depressing thought, moving on.

Resentment.

I remembered every time people whispered about me, spat at my feet, cursed my existence for simply looking the way I do. The Queen of Curses. That's what they saw when they looked at me. Not Celia. Just a monster in the making.

I hated them for it. For never giving me a chance. For deciding who I was before I could even become anyone.

"Decay with me."

The flower twitched. Oh? A bit more reaction this time. I leaned in, watching as the edges of the petals curled just a little.

So… resentment works better than despair. Good to know.

Loneliness.

That was easy. Almost too easy.

I thought of all the nights I spent curled up in the dark, hugging my knees, wishing just one person would reach out their hand. Wishing I wasn't so alone. That someone… anyone would tell me I mattered.

Even after meeting Kaiser, that feeling never truly went away. There were times when he wasn't around, and the loneliness crawled back in, wrapping around my throat like an invisible chain.

"Decay with me."

The flower paled even more, its red petals losing some color.

I grinned. This was working.

Guilt.

I hesitated before using this one. But there was a memory that never left me.

The time I wanted to disappear. When I thought maybe… just maybe, if I was gone, people would stop suffering because of me. If I just erased myself, the hate, the fear, the anger directed at me… would finally stop.

I remembered standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the sharp rocks below, wondering if it would hurt—

I shut my eyes. No. I wasn't that person anymore.

But that guilt—that old guilt for even thinking that way—still sat in my chest.

"Decay with me."

The flower visibly wilted. Okaaay, guilt is strong. Got it.

Regret.

I thought of the times I could've been braver. The times I could've spoken up. The moments I let slip away because I was too scared, too weak, too pathetic to fight for myself.

I thought of the people who reached out to me, and I turned away. I thought of Kaiser, how many times I wanted to tell him how much I…

I shook my head. No. That wasn't for now.

"Decay with me."

The flower shuddered. The decay spread slightly faster this time.

Hopelessness.

This was different from despair. Despair is feeling like everything is already lost. Hopelessness is believing nothing will ever get better. That no matter how much I fight, no matter how much I try—it will never change.

I didn't have to dig deep for this one.

"Decay with me."

The flower grew paler than ever. I could see the life draining from it.

I exhaled, pulling back.

The flower, which had once been a beautiful deep red, was now a dull, faded version of itself. It worked. It actually worked.

I opened the book again, flipping to the page on negative emotions.

There was a list.

Sorrow

Frustration

Despair

Resentment

Loneliness

Guilt

Regret

Hopelessness

Rage

Fear

Self-hatred

Grief

Anguish

Betrayal

Dread

Powerlessness

…Jealousy

I frowned. Jealousy?

Unlike the others, it was at the bottom of the list. In fact, the book even wrote a note about it.

"Jealousy is the weakest fuel for cursed magic. Its unstable nature makes it unreliable and fragile."

…Weakest, huh?

I smiled. Not because of jealousy, but because… I could actually do this. I could actually be useful to Kaiser. Maybe I wouldn't have to just sit back and let him fight for me. Maybe… I could stand beside him.

I wouldn't have to be protected anymore. I wouldn't have to watch him risk his life for me.

I wouldn't have to feel helpless.

But then I remembered.

Kaiser… wasn't here.

Oh. Right.

He was with Emma.

Wasn't it just because Levi asked him to? He didn't have a choice, did he?

Kaiser was always so kind, always helping everyone, always doing what he thought was right, but... was he really wanting to be with her? Or was he just doing it out of obligation?

It didn't make sense. He didn't need to be with her. He didn't need to spend time with her. He didn't need to hold her hand.

I mean, it's not like he had to, right? It was just because Levi asked, because he felt like he should—but was there more to it?

Why else would he be with her, of all people?

I bit my lip, feeling something ugly twisting inside me.

Did he want to be with her? Or was it something he had to do, just because he felt obligated?

But the more I thought about it, the worse it got. Why was he with her? Why was he holding her hand, laughing with her? I never asked him to do that with me. Maybe I should've. Maybe I should've forced him to stay with me, to be mine.

And that question... the jealousy in it—it hit harder than the rest. Because the truth hurt. It hurt in a way I didn't want to admit.

He didn't need me.

Maybe he didn't need anyone, except her.

Was he starting to forget about me?

Did he even remember that I was here, waiting for him? Or was it easier to pretend that I didn't exist while he held her hand?

I stared at the flower, feeling my heartbeat slow, my breath suddenly shaky.

Kaiser… was holding Emma's hand.

Holding. Her. Hand.

That thought alone should've been enough to make me feel sad, maybe a little lonely, but… it wasn't just sadness. It was worse than that.

A strange, twisting, suffocating feeling crawled up my chest, coiling around my heart like vines. My fingers curled slightly, gripping the soft petals of the flower in my hand. It was still warm—alive—but I barely noticed it. My thoughts were elsewhere, sinking deeper, spiraling.

Because Kaiser wasn't here.

He was with her.

With someone who wasn't me.

That thought alone made something inside me shatter.

I imagined it—the two of them together. Laughing. Talking. Maybe even smiling at each other.

Would he look at her the way he looked at me? Would he let her stand so close? Would he let her touch him—like holding his hand, or fixing his hair, or brushing the dust off his shoulders?

No. No, no, no—no.

He wouldn't. He shouldn't.

Because he was mine.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but the images didn't go away. They only became clearer, louder. I could see it—her leaning close, whispering something in his ear, and him turning to her with that soft, effortless smile he always had. The same smile he gave me.

And suddenly, it didn't feel like I could breathe.

My fingers trembled slightly, tightening around the flower in my hand. A sharp pain pricked my skin where the thorns pressed into my palm, but I barely noticed.

What if he was having fun?

What if, at this very moment, he was laughing at something she said?

What if he forgot about me?

My heart pounded, a sickening thud against my ribs.

No. That wasn't possible. Kaiser promised. He said I was his heart. He said he'd always be with me. He said I was important.

So why? Why was he with someone else?

A cold whisper slipped past my lips before I even realized I had spoken.

"He's mine."

My voice didn't sound like mine. It was softer, lower, but at the same time, sharp—like a quiet, deadly whisper from something buried deep inside me.

"Kaiser is mine."

"He doesn't need anyone else."

"He only needs me."

My hands trembled as I clenched around the flower, crushing its delicate petals between my fingers. The soft, comforting warmth it once had was gone, replaced by something brittle, something fragile.

A flicker of energy spread from my fingertips, a pulse of cursed power.

Then—it started.

The flower withered instantly.

The red petals turned black, curling inward, twisting as if they were being strangled by invisible hands. The once-strong stem weakened, cracking slightly under the pressure of my grip. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.

The more I thought about it—about him smiling at someone else, laughing with her, standing beside her, touching her in ways he had only touched me— the faster it died. My chest tightened, suffocating me. The jealousy burned in my veins, fueling the curse, and I let it. I let it pour out of me.

The flower couldn't take it.

The color drained from its body, leaving behind nothing but blackened, brittle remains. The stem shriveled, the petals crumbled into dust, vanishing like ash in the wind.

And in the end—

It was nothing. Gone. Completely lifeless.

But I wasn't done.

The weight in my chest didn't disappear. If anything, it grew heavier, colder. My heart thudded violently against my ribs, a frantic, erratic rhythm. The darkness inside me twisted, my jealousy like a blackened fire consuming every ounce of my being.

It wasn't enough.

The flower wasn't enough.

I needed more.

I needed something more.

The thought of him being with her, of him choosing her over me—it tore at me. How could he? Why wasn't I enough? Why didn't he see?

It wasn't fair. He was supposed to be mine. Only mine. And yet, here I was, standing in the aftermath of it all, helpless. I wasn't just angry, I wasn't just hurt—I was possessed.

No one else could have him.

I won't let them.

A low growl slipped from my lips as I squeezed the remnants of the flower tighter. And with it, the room grew darker, colder. My aura—the one I had once thought to be weak—was spreading like a suffocating fog, poisoning everything it touched. The air itself felt thick with my jealousy, curling around me like chains, pulling me deeper into the madness.

I needed him.

Only him in my life.

And I couldn't let him forget that.

As she was being consumed by jealousy, Kaiser, on the other hand, felt something completely different—something far removed from the turmoil she was drowning in.

Kaiser's Perspective:

The cool evening wind whipped through my hair as I stood alongside Emma, the weight of my thoughts almost as heavy as the day had been.

Damn Levi, I thought, gritting my teeth. Why'd he have to rope me into babysitting this girl? Sure, Emma wasn't the worst company, but I wasn't exactly jumping for joy to spend my day manipulating her about her brother's guild. Not exactly my idea of a "relaxing day."

But hey, I owed Levi one. After all, it was the least I could do for letting him crash at my place while he was injured. And it wasn't like I was heartless. Emma had helped me out a few times too—letting me and Celia stay at her place when we needed it, even when I probably wasn't the most ideal guest. Guess this was my way of repaying her. Some favor, huh?

Still, as annoying as Levi's request was, I couldn't deny the fact that Emma seemed to have enjoyed herself—at least to some extent. I'd played my part, used her to gather the information I needed, manipulated her into revealing things without her even realizing it.

I wasn't proud of it, but it was a necessary evil.

I looked over at her, her expression still a little uneasy. Yeah, she definitely hadn't enjoyed the way I'd guilt-tripped her into talking about Levi's guild, and for some reason, it made my stomach twist.

I hated that I had to play these games, even if it meant getting the information I wanted. Sometimes, I felt like I was a different person—one who didn't care much about anyone else, as long as I got what I needed. But was I really that guy?

A small smile tugged at my lips as I looked out over the mountains, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting an orange glow over the landscape. At least I'd gotten some fresh air today. It wasn't all bad.

I glanced at Emma again, her discomfort still lingering. Dammit, Kaiser. I could feel the guilt gnawing at me now more than ever. It was almost suffocating. I couldn't help but feel like a piece of me was slowly rotting away every time I manipulated someone for my gain.

But, I was determined to cheer her up. Enough of this shit.

"Hey, Emma," I said, my voice light and teasing, "you know, you look really cute when you're frowning like that. I think you should try it more often."

She shot me an incredulous look, but a small laugh bubbled up from her throat, despite herself.

"You're unbelievable, Kaiser," she said, shaking her head, but there was a small smile breaking through.

"Hey, I'm just trying to make you feel better," I replied, giving her a playful nudge. "I mean, sure, you could go back to being all serious and uncomfortable, but where's the fun in that?"

She rolled her eyes but didn't seem as tense anymore.

"I guess," she muttered, clearly not buying into the whole "charming" act, but I could see the smile tugging at her lips now.

"Alright, alright," I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender, "but seriously, it's getting late. We should head back before it gets too dark."

Emma's expression fell almost immediately. "But I was just starting to have fun…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes glancing around the surroundings like she was reluctant to let the moment end.

I smirked, shaking my head. "Nope. Time to go." I reached out, grabbing her hand before she could protest any further, and began to pull her along.

She immediately slowed her steps, trying to pull back. "Just a little longer, please? I swear, this is the most fun I've had in a long time!"

I raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. "Emma," I said, my voice firm but still with that teasing edge, "we will be going. And you'll like it."

She pouted, her lower lip sticking out in a way that made her look entirely too adorable for her own good. "Please, Kaiser," she begged, her voice soft and sweet. "Just a little longer? I promise I'll go home soon after."

I shook my head, resisting the urge to laugh. "Nope. You're not getting away that easy."

She groaned, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Fine!."

I just smiled, tugging her along with me. Slowly, she finally gave in, following me as I led her through the forest. The trees stretched high into the sky, casting long shadows over the path.

The sunset cast a beautiful golden light, spilling over the leaves in a way that almost made everything seem magical. The air was cooler now, the chirping of crickets filling the silence around us as we walked.

The forest felt alive with the night creeping in, the colors of the sunset painting the sky in brilliant hues of pink and orange. It was breathtaking, and I could feel the tension in my chest loosen just a little. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing after all.

I turned to Emma, who was quietly following beside me. "So," I said, breaking the silence, "you know anything about the other sword saints? What's their deal?"

Emma paused for a moment, clearly thinking. "Not much, really," she said, looking up at me. "But I know their names. And I can tell you about their guilds. I just don't know much beyond that."

I gave her a small smile, relieved that the conversation was finally shifting away from guilt and manipulation. "Sounds good," I said, nodding. "I'm listening."

As we walked, I let the silence settle in for a moment. Then I suddenly slapped my own cheek, my hand coming down sharply enough that it stung.

Get a grip, Kaiser, I told myself. You can't keep doing this. You can't keep playing with people's emotions just because you want something for yourself. You've changed. You have to keep reminding yourself of that.

I took a deep breath and turned back to Emma, my voice softening as I spoke again. "Listen, Emma, I just… I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want to be someone you can actually trust and speak to honestly."

She looked up at me, her expression shifting—first with surprise, then with something softer. And before I could even process it, her hand clutched mine tighter, her grip trembling.

"But I do trust you, Kaiser," she blurted out. Her voice was quiet, but there was desperation laced in it. "I should've told you everything from the start—I should've just been honest. But I hesitated."

Her gaze dropped, her fingers curling around my palm as if letting go meant I'd disappear. "I was scared," she admitted. "Scared that if I told you everything, you'd… you'd leave."

My stomach twisted.

The same fear I had planted inside her—the one I had used to manipulate her—was now the thing making her cling to me. And it made me feel sick.

"You made me feel like I wasn't alone yesterday," she said, her voice a little shaky but clear. She lifted her head, looking up at me with those eyes, eyes that had seen so much pain. They were glistening under the fading light, and I could see a depth there—something I didn't deserve to see. "You were the first person to comfort me and make me actually feel alive again, to forget the pain—even for just a moment."

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. "I never told anyone this… but after my parents died, I… I've never really felt like I had anyone. Not really. Levi, he's my brother, but he's always been focused on his own things, his own life. I mean, I get it—he's busy, he has his own responsibilities. But... I was always there, waiting, invisible." Her words came out in a rush, each one heavier than the last. "I was used to that, I thought it was just the way it was. But... you—you—made me feel like I wasn't invisible. Like I wasn't just... alone in this world. And that's what it felt like. Alone. I never let myself admit it before, but I was alone."

She wiped at her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I tried to hide it with jokes, with teasing. I tried to act like everything was fine, that I was fine... But you—you made me feel like I didn't need to hide. Like I could just be... me. And no one's ever done that before. No one's ever seen me for who I am, not just a sister or a friend, but me. And it's... it's terrifying," 

she confessed, her voice cracking. "Because now... now I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here. What if you just… left? What if it was just like before, and I was all alone again?"

I stayed silent. I didn't know what to say.

"So please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Please trust me. I'll tell you everything you want to know—I swear, just… don't leave me. Please."

Shit.

The guilt hit me like a blade to the chest. She was begging me to stay now.

I had used her. Used her pain, her loneliness, her desperation—all just to get what I wanted. And yet, here she was, trusting me completely, begging me to stay as if I was something worth holding onto.

I clenched my jaw, the weight in my chest growing unbearable.

I didn't deserve this kind of trust. Not from her.

"Please… don't say it," she whispered, trembling. "I-I can't lose you too. Please, don't leave me."

Her voice cracked, panic lacing every word as if my next sentence would be the final blow. She looked at me desperately, afraid of what was coming next.

"You're... you're going to leave, aren't you?" Her voice trembled, her words stumbling over each other. "B-Because I was hesitant... to tell you everything... y-you'll just walk away now, won't you?"

I opened my mouth, but she kept going, her words spilling out faster, more frantic.

"I—I should've told you everything from the start," she stammered, her voice trembling as she clutched my sleeve tighter. "I should've listened. I won't hesitate anymore, I swear. Just… please don't go."

Her other hand shot up, gripping onto me like I'd disappear if she let go. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my coat, desperate, shaking.

Her lips quivered as she blinked rapidly, as if trying to stop them from falling. "Ever since my parents passed away… even with Levi around… I still felt lonely." Her breath hitched, and she clenched my sleeve even harder. "It never went away, Kaiser. No matter how much I laughed, no matter how much I teased people—nothing changed. That loneliness was always there."

Her body trembled, her voice falling to a whisper. "But then you—" she sucked in a sharp breath, "the way you spoke to me, the way you comforted me, the way you made me laugh… I didn't feel lonely anymore."

Her grip tightened.

"I always tease people, you know? I do it because… it's easier to hide my own sadness that way. But with you—" she looked up at me, eyes glistening, "I don't feel sad. I don't have to pretend."

Her words hung in the air, raw, fragile. She wasn't just begging me to stay—she was terrified of losing the one thing that made her feel whole again.

Shit.

This wasn't fear of just losing anyone.

This was fear of losing me.

She wasn't begging me to stay because of some manipulative trick or calculated move. She was begging me because she genuinely wanted me around. And I had twisted that into something ugly.

I clenched my jaw, inhaling sharply before kneeling in front of her, bringing us to the same level.

"Emma," I said, steady but firm. "I messed up."

Her breath hitched, but she didn't look away.

I squeezed her hand. "I shouldn't have said those things. I shouldn't have made you feel like you had to earn my trust or my time. That was wrong of me."

Her lips parted slightly, eyes still searching mine.

"You don't have to prove anything to me," I continued. "And I'm not here because you're useful, or because you tell me what I want to hear." I shook my head. "I'm here because I want to be."

"But—"

"No 'but,' Emma," I cut in. "I won't ever say such things ever again. Remember always that I was here because I wanted to be with you, to make you feel happier as your friend."

She blinked rapidly, like she didn't fully believe it. Like she was still waiting for me to take it all back.

So I smiled—genuine this time.

"Guess you'll just have to deal with me," I teased.

A weak, choked laugh escaped her lips. Barely there, but enough.

I smirked. "See? Progress."

Her grip loosened just a little.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "You really are annoying."

"But an annoying guy you trust, right?" I quipped.

She huffed, crossing her arms. "More like an annoying guy I tolerate."

I smirked. "Close enough."

She paused, staring at me for a long moment. Then, finally, she nodded.

"...Yeah," she whispered.

I exhaled, feeling something in my chest lighten.

Not because I deserved it. But because, this time, I meant every word. 

As we started walking again, the last remnants of the sunset bathed the forest in a golden glow, painting the trees in warm shades of amber and crimson. The world felt quieter now, softer.

And in that silence, I made a promise to myself.

This time, I didn't have to manipulate her.

And I won't do it again.

Not when she trusted me this much—even after everything. The guilt still gnawed at me, but for once, I pushed it aside. Because I wanted to be someone she could trust.

Not a fake version of me.

Now it was time to learn about the other Sword Saints.

Meanwhile, while Kaiser was gnawing at his own guild. Celia's jealousy continued to grow more and more each second.

Celia's Perspective:

A wave of energy surged within me, and before I even realized it, my hand shot out, palm flat against the ground. The action was instinctive—my body responding before my mind could catch up. A pulse of power erupted from my core, spilling out like an uncontrollable tide.

It wasn't a spell. It wasn't incantations or rituals. It was pure instinct. My aura, the cursed aura of a queen who had been ignored, shattered, and now—fueled by jealousy—it broke free.

It was the weakest form of my power, still raw, untamed. But even as the smallest trace of it escaped, it was deadly.

The room seemed to shift. The air thickened, growing oppressive as though the very atmosphere itself was growing heavy with the weight of my emotions. I felt it—an icy, suffocating aura radiating from me, curling out like smoke, spreading its decay. The ground beneath my feet trembled slightly, and I could almost hear the groan of life withering in my presence.

Everything—everything—around me felt it. The walls, the air, the objects in the room—they all trembled under the shadow of my envy. The plants outside, already withering from my proximity, began to curl and rot faster.

The grass in Levi's yard withered. The vibrant green faded into a sickly, rotten black, curling inward like burned paper. The trees trembled. The flowers—all of them—began to darken, their petals shriveling, falling apart one by one.

Even the air felt heavier. Like it was suffocating.

I stood there, frozen, my chest tight as I watched the world around me start to fall apart. But it wasn't the decay of the room or the plants withering away that caught my attention. No, it was him.

Why wasn't he with me?

Why did he leave me behind?

Why was I always second choice to her?

Why did he smile at her like that? Why didn't he smile like that for me?

Was I not enough? Was I never enough for him?

Why did she get all of his attention, all of his time? Why was she standing there, laughing with him, while I was left alone?

Did he forget the promises he made? Did he forget me?

How could he look at her the way he did? How could he touch her the way he touches me? Was I not special enough?

Am I not enough for him?

My thoughts spun in a frenzy, each question cutting deeper, sharper than the last. Why didn't he need me anymore? Why did I always have to fight for a place in his heart? Why was I constantly watching from the sidelines while others got everything I wanted?

What did she have that I didn't?

Was I not good enough? Was I not the one he was supposed to choose? Why wasn't it me?

Why did he make promises to me, telling me I was his heart, and then just… leave?

I clenched my fists, my body trembling, but it wasn't from fear. It was from rage. Rage at her, at him, at myself for not being enough. I couldn't stop thinking about the way he had looked at her, the way he'd held her hand—something I'd never felt from him. Was that what I was missing? Was that what made her better than me?

Why couldn't he see that I was the one who belonged with him?

Why did he need to be with someone else? Someone who wasn't me?

I could feel it, that horrible, choking, suffocating presence swirling around me. My aura. My jealousy was fueling it, growing stronger, wilder, more uncontrollable with each passing second. I could feel it reaching out, extending to everything around me, the plants, the air, everything was starting to decay under its weight.

It was all because of her.

It was all because she was there, taking what was mine. My place. My Kaiser.

Why can't I have him?

Why does she get to stand by his side?

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the vision of them together, the thought of her laughing with him. No. I wouldn't let it happen. He's mine. He's always been mine.

And I would make sure it stayed that way.

Was I doing this?

I didn't even need an incantation. I didn't need a spell. My jealousy alone was enough to kill.

The cursed magic that was supposed to be the weakest… was now the strongest in me.

It was a power I couldn't control, a dangerous, volatile force that surged within my veins, twisting, coiling, suffocating. And it was all because of him.

And then—

Knock. Knock.

The sound pierced through everything.

My entire body froze.

For a long moment, the room was silent.

The jealousy lingering in my veins flickered. The heavy weight in my chest shifted.

A warmth—small, soft, but powerful—spread from my heart.

A smile curled onto my lips before I could stop it.

He's back. Kaiser's back.

Everything inside me lightened.

All of those dark, ugly, suffocating feelings suddenly felt so… small. I took a breath and turned to the flower. Or—what was left of it. Carefully, I placed it back into the vase.

It was dead. Completely lifeless. Its petals blackened, its stem brittle. It would never bloom again.

But that was fine.

It was just a flower.

…Right?

I turned to leave.

But then—

Drip.

A single drop of red slid down from the blackened petals.

Blood.

It bled. The flower was bleeding blood.

As if it had suffered. As if it had felt every ounce of pain, every twisted, suffocating emotion that had poured out of me.

I tilted my head slightly.

A soft hum slipped from my lips.

How strange...