Luciano did not sleep.

Nor did he eat.

Day and night, the thought never crossed his mind. He did not care.

He only rode on and on.

As soon as he felt that his horse had reached its limit, he would change to a new one.

Repeatedly, he crushed his horses to exhaustion. Still, he kept his eyes on the road ahead.

The journey from Aldo to Armenia was not too difficult. Luciano was more used to the return journey than the arrival. As soon as he saw the white castle in the distance, his impatience catapulted.

No matter how hard we ran, it seemed like he was not getting any closer. Did he imagine it? He urged his horse to speed.

Almost. The distance between Luciano and the Armenian castle seemed to be getting shorter and shorter.

-Alana.

Amid the clatter of hoofbeats, Luciano saw the sandstone walls ahead and knew he had arrived.

A large man stood on the road to the castle in Armenia. It was Amancio, a man who was very fond of Flavia.

He was unsure how much rest he got at the Poisoner’s shop, but the trip depleted him after four days of arduous riding.

Naturally, fatigue had accumulated. Luciano was beyond exhausted. But there were no excuses. If he took too long, Alana would die, and if he died, Alana would die too.

-I can’t let her die!

Luciano clenched and ground his molars. He wanted to speed past Amancio, but upon seeing the chained cudgel on his back, Luciano knew exactly what Amancio was aiming for.

If Amancio swung at his horse, he would fall off, placing him at an overwhelming disadvantage.

Luciano disembarked and slipped his sword off his waist. He was sure all of Serrat’s men were at Fuentes’ fort.

“Everyone in Serrat is in the fort of Fuentes. What the f*ck are you doing here,” Luciano said as he set his foot on the ground.

Amancio, as the enemy, was huge.

“That…that’s.”

“Amancio, let me ask you something. Did you come to kill me?”

Amancio shook his head as if the notion itself was absurd.

“N-no, definitely not. Luciano. I’m here to stop you. By force, a cruel Armenian woman seduced you and turned you, my Lord. I’m sorry. I’m going to beat you half to death. Until the Queen has died from poison…”

It turned out to be Flavia’s idea, after all.

//When your ex can’t take your rejection and turns psycho…

Luciano snorted, “Pointing a sword at me is treason. You’ve got some nerve. Come. And die.”

Each blow from the muscular man was heavier than the last. His stomach and back took each brunt; his hands became numb.

The most agile and skilled swordsman in Serrat, Luciano, was forced to retreat and stretched to his limits.

It was humiliating.

Luciano dug his feet into the gravel and held his ground. If he had been in better physical condition, he would not have had so much trouble.

His jaw clenched, and his teeth scraped against each other from the tension.

He couldn’t be weak. He couldn’t afford Amancio’s sword to touch his arm.

“Your highness, Luciano, … I’m stronger than you. You can’t fight back. Don’t resist.”

“Who’s stronger than me? Don’t blind yourself.”

Luciano used all his force and kicked Amancio’s crotch in rage. It was a sly technique, unbefitting of a knight.

The kick made Amancio double over in agony, sending him sprawling into the river.

“I’m a villain. I don’t care if we fight fairly or not. Chivalry, and the like, I don’t give a damn. I’m not going to let you get away with it,” he breathed.

Blood dripped from his arm, and his shoulders felt the weight of the sky. The blood mixed with his sweat in a hot stream of bodily fluids.

–– Wasted my time in a place like this. Damn it.

He regained his breath and quickly jumped on his horse. However, Flavia’s face flashed in the corner of his mind.

The woman had ordered Amancio to stop Luciano. She knew he would certainly come.

As his eyes caught sight of the white chalk castle on the lake, it was hard not for his vision to blur the scenery. The colours seemed to bleed into his periphery.

He was sick and tired, and the energy to even talk had left him. It was hard to describe the feeling that came over him.

He was sure he looked stupid and pathetic.

//Nono, to fight that hard for the woman you love, chivalric.

However, Luciano could care less about himself.

─ Did I make it this time? Mileia …

He went on his way, asking Mileia to protect him. He hoped that his father and mother watched over him and granted his wish. He cursed his helpless and weak self. He couldn’t do anything; he was pathetic, useless, and wished to be stronger.

The thought of losing his family – he never wanted to experience that feeling ever again.

He urged the knight waiting by the lake to set sail and then looked up at the white castle for a long time.

––Alana.

The only person who echoed in his mind; she was his life.