"Leave?"

Moen's eyes widened as he turned to stare at the door of the room.

The door no longer gave him its previous sense of confinement. It seemed as if it could truly be opened now.

Instinctively, Moen gripped the doorknob and pressed down firmly.

Click.

The door opened.

Through the sliver of light from the doorway, the bright corridor outside came into view.

A look of delight flashed in Moen's eyes.

As long as the door was open, he could leave this place!

However, he wasn’t planning to abandon Celicia. He simply intended to go seek help from others.

Only by summoning others to assist could he hope to save Celicia!

"Wait."

Moen suddenly froze mid-step.

Something felt off.

"The assassin’s accomplice outside the door would certainly know about what I'm going to do. So why would she let me leave?"

"She just said... it would end soon?"

What… would end?

Moen whipped around instantly.

And then, he saw it.

—The maid, holding a dagger wreathed in flames, her posture like the grim reaper raising his scythe, ready to strike down and claim the proud soul that refused to yield, even in such an utter despair.

Ahead lay life.

Behind lay death.

In that moment, time seemed to stop.

Somewhere faint in the distance, Moen seemed to hear the sound of pages turning, as if a story had reached a pivotal juncture, waiting silently for him to write what came next.

…

The reflection in Celicia's eyes is the blade and flames.

Despair had entirely overtaken her, pressing down until she could barely breathe.

Everything in her sight seemed to slow down, as if someone had pressed the slow-motion button.

But Celicia understood that time hadn’t truly slowed. Instead, at the threshold of life and death, her brain was working at lightning speed, causing her thoughts to accelerate.

In simpler terms: this was the proverbial life flashing before her eyes.

“How pathetic…I can’t believe I’m about to die in a place like this...”

“Damn you, Moen Campbell…”

Celicia cursed the man she hated most in her heart, but the fiery anger she’d felt moments ago was already gone.

At a time like this, anger was meaningless.

"He’s probably escaped by now…"

"That’s fine, though. He doesn’t deserve to die here…"

Celicia closed her eyes, ready to accept the end of her life with poise.

*Squelch.*

The sound of a blade piercing flesh rippled through the air as expected.

Hot blood burst forth, spraying across Celicia's face.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel pain. On the contrary, she felt an all-too-familiar warmth surrounding her.

"What—"

She snapped her eyes open in shock, only to meet a pair of sapphire-blue eyes. They were clear, pure, yet dimmed at this moment.

Eyes that reminded her of when he’d invited her to dance at the start of the banquet.

"Cough… isn’t it too early to give up, my princess…"

Moen was slumped against Celicia, his face pale yet smiling through the ordeal. Blood poured from his mouth, staining the pure white of Celicia's gown with an horrifying maroon.

"Why…"

Celicia stared at him in utter disbelief, and the coldness in her eyes seemed to melt away, revealing a panic and confusion like a little girl's that she had never shown before.

"Moen Campbell, why would you save me…"

"Why? Cough, cough... I’d like to know that myself."

Moen labored for breath as the deadly dagger remained lodged in his back, piercing through his lung. The divine flames strong enough to rival the god now burned ravenously through his body, delivering excruciating agony that almost tear his consciousness apart.

"If I had to say… perhaps... on impulse."

"Impulse? Who has such impulse at a time like this?"

Seeing the disbelief in Celicia's expression, Moen could only shake his head helplessly.

Truthfully, however, he wasn’t lying. At that moment, he could've easily taken a step forward and escaped from death.

But in the instant he turned back and saw the dagger raised high, poised to strike Celicia—

All of his thoughts vanished.

The guilt he felt for Celicia.

The remorse for his own weakness.

The fear of death.

The yearning to survive.

All of it disappeared.

The only thing that remained was an overwhelming desire:

He couldn’t let Celicia die. He couldn’t allow this girl—once his most beloved character, a vivid, real, and beautiful girl—end her life in front of him.

Especially not when he's the one to blame.

And so, he chose to turn back.

He chose to stand in front of the Death.

So, this was what they called an obsession.

Perhaps… it had always been his self-deception.

"Seems like... I am really a psycho huh. And I always screw every critical moment."

Moen let out a bitter laugh.

Just like how, back at two a.m. in that morning, on an impulse, he’d decided to draw the cards—

And then, after becoming overjoyed at getting five SSR in one pull of ten, was struck, quite literally, by an oncoming truck.

"So this time, it ends the same way, huh?"

Thankfully, facing death the second time around, it wasn’t that terrifying.

"But before that, let me at least put on one last show… Otherwise, it’d be such a waste…"

With this thought, Moen endured the searing pain, forcing himself to regain his composure. He tried his best to smile as gracefully and nonchalantly as a true duke’s son would, offering Celicia a final, gentle smile.

"So now... do I look like a man, my Princess?"

"You…"

But, unfortunately, Moen didn’t get to hear Celicia’s reply.

Darkness enveloped his consciousness.

…

【...】

【Loading progress…】

【Pride Progress: 50%】

【Envy Progress: 99%】

【Greed Progress: 0%】

【Lust Progress: 0%】

【Sloth Progress: 0%】

【Wrath Progress: 0%】

【Gluttony Progress: -90%】

【……】

【……】

【Keep struggling.】

【Moen Campbell.】

【You are my ■■■■■】

Deep within Moen's consciousness, a black book trembled slightly.

…

"You… bastard!"

The maid’s eyes flared with a searing fury as she glared at Moen who blocked this attack with his body.

She was this close to succeeding—so why, why, did Moen Campbell have to intervene at the crucial moment?!

You weren’t even the target!

"Strange… Did I just… have a momentary lapse?"

The maid pressed a hand to her forehead, her instincts hinting at something unusual. But now was not the time to dwell on it.

"Do you think this will stop me?" she sneered coldly. "Even if you block this one strike, with the blessings of the Divine Lord, Celicia is still nothing more than a lamb awaiting slaughter!"

"A second strike is all it takes!"

The maid tightened her grip on the dagger and began to pull it—

Huh?

Why wouldn’t it budge?

Frowning, the maid looked down at Moen.

She realized that where the ornate fabric of his attire was pierced, faint golden lights flickered, firmly holding the dagger in place.

"So this clothing of his has some tricks."

The maid chuckled disdainfully.

It wasn’t surprising that the son of a duke would have a protective artifact. Even so, it was just a piece of clothing after all—it couldn't hold out for long.

Focusing on all her strength, she tugged again and finally succeeded in pulling the dagger free.

But the blade… seemed strange.

"Huh?"

The maid froze, staring blankly at her weapon.

The dagger remained pristine—sharp as ever, gleaming with its chilling sheen.

But…

"Where’s my fire?"

The massive inferno blessed upon her by the Divine Lord—the sacred flames she once wielded—

They were simply… gone.