I Ended My Engagement With The Woman Who Despised Me

✦  Chapter 3 — A Warm Spring Day  ✦

「Translator — Creator」

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ᠃

After feeding the nearby creatures, I returned directly to the mansion.

Typically, such mysterious outings would draw attention and concern, but here things were different.

Being treated as an outsider, coupled with the Northern Grand Duke viewing me merely as a stepping stone for southern political advancement, everyone preferred to avoid me, seeing me as something akin to a walking catastrophe.

As a result, they paid no mind to my actions or schemes, leaving me remarkably unfettered in my pursuits.

Thanks to this, I could freely pursue my objectives.

Anyway, my priority now is close-combat training until the elixirs arrive.’

The reason for focusing on close combat was twofold — Damian’s family was renowned for their swordsmanship,

And more crucially, close-combat skills were essential for survival in the North.

‘Though it’s safe for now…’

Considering the rifts that would eventually open, not only was preparation prudent,

But to be of help to Elysia, basic combat abilities were necessary — thus, I decided to pour all my time into training.

‘And for this very moment, I shared that tea with the guard knight.’

Of course, he would have helped with training even without it, but I figured a bit of goodwill might encourage him to be more diligent. With that thought, I called out to him.

“Loraine, train me.”

“Pardon? … Ah, yes. Huh?”

The guard knight stared at me with evident surprise, clearly not expecting such a request,

While I ignored his reaction and began preparing necessities for the training grounds.

‘Tea, potions, bandages.’

With these three things, I could theoretically train endlessly. I packed as much as I could, and as I was gathering my supplies, Loraine hesitantly spoke up.

“Um, young master, perhaps do you have any more of that tea left?”

It seemed he had taken quite a liking to it.

Since it wasn’t particularly difficult to make, I gave him a light nod. At that, Loraine’s lips curled into a wide smile as he declared,

“I’ll definitely make a proper human out of you, young master!”

“…A human?”

“Ack, forget I said that!”

Loraine quickly averted his gaze, clearly avoiding the topic.

And shaking my head, I finished preparing everything I needed.

⋆❉⋆

When I arrived at the training grounds, I noticed quite a number of people engaged in practice.

Surveying the scene, I led us to a relatively quiet spot and conveyed my request to Loraine.

“I want to learn close combat.”

Although I was the youngest son of a family renowned for swordsmanship, I deliberately called it ‘close-combat’ rather than ‘swordsmanship.’ In the North, unlike the South, battles often lasted a long time. As such, relying solely on swords wasn’t practical—other melee weapons were frequently used as well.

‘If my goal had been earning family recognition or becoming the strongest with a sword, perhaps I would have focused solely on swordsmanship.’

But my purpose in learning close combat wasn’t for personal growth – it was to be of use to Elysia.

As long as I could become competent enough to assist her, it didn’t matter what I trained in.

At my words, Loraine contemplated briefly before asking a single question.

“You’re certain you want to learn close combat, not just swordsmanship?”

When I nodded, he assumed a rather serious expression and asked for my reasoning.

After I explained briefly, Loraine showed signs of contemplation before speaking concisely.

“If you’re considering prolonged combat, blunt weapons might actually be better. A sword’s effectiveness plummets the moment its edge dulls.”

However, he cautioned that blunt weapons demanded greater stamina – without proper conditioning, they could prove more exhausting than swords.

“Of course, mana can compensate for all this, but since you can’t use mana yet, young master, let’s try various weapons to find what suits your hand.”

Hearing this, I surveyed the available weapons, eventually selecting a wooden sword, a wooden hammer, and a wooden mace, placing them nearby.

The moment I picked up the practice weapons, the Northern soldiers’ gazes briefly converged on me,

Only to turn away with mocking expressions upon seeing Damian’s frail frame.

Their scorn didn’t bother me—it was meaningless. Ignoring the stares, I told Loraine I had brought the weapons, and he picked up a wooden practice sword as he spoke.

“For now, give it everything you’ve got. I’ll point out any mistakes.”

I ran a hand through my hair and nodded in agreement.

⋆❉⋆

Though modern sensibilities dictated that the body was a finite resource not to be carelessly spent,

This world held no such constraints — with items capable of restoring the body to its original state, I could truly push myself without reservation.

“Young master, perhaps we should stop here-“

If my skin tore, I could apply a potion; if my fingers broke, I could drink one.

Though potions weren’t omnipotent and couldn’t perfectly erase every wound,

‘High-grade potions’ contained divine power that could easily overcome such trivial concerns.

“I’ll be fine with a potion.”

“That’s not the issue – it’s my heart that can’t take this.”

Not only was everything splattered with blood, but my clothes had been completely dyed crimson — from the guard knight’s perspective, this must have been terror incarnate.

Yet ordinary methods wouldn’t yield growth in such a short time – pushing beyond reasonable limits was the right path forward.

‘With Damian’s innate talent, plus the potions negating everything but the immediate pain…’

Thinking this couldn’t be more perfect, I lifted a one-handed hammer with a smile.

‘The blunt weapon feels surprisingly natural in my grip.’

Perhaps due to its weight, each swing carried a satisfying impact.

Though I hadn’t yet felt the true satisfaction of striking flesh – only Loraine’s weapon – even the clash of metal against metal brought considerable pleasure.

As I reveled in this satisfaction, Loraine urgently spoke up.

“No, Young Master! You have plenty of talent. If you just train steadily without overexerting yourself, you’ll grow quickly in no time!”

“………..”

“Why go to such extremes? Even if it’s for your fiancée, I can’t understand why you’d go this far.”

Of course, I’d never explained my reasons to him, so it made sense that he didn’t understand.

Instead of answering, I drove the hammer down with a heavy thud and said,

“It’s just something I have to do.”

As I pressed Loraine harder, I reflected on how, when someone becomes a guiding light in a reality filled with nothing but despair, creating a reason to live — how could anyone not fall so deeply in love, regardless of who that person might be?

⋆❉⋆

— “Elysia, the word ‘doing your best’ is nothing more than an excuse used by the worthless to justify themselves.”

— “The world will remember not your efforts, but your results — and beyond that, only your failures.”

— “So please, do not fail. That is all this mother can say to you.”

Elysia Winthraven.

Daughter of the Northern Grand Duke, a land renowned for its harsh and unforgiving nature.

Raised in a place where the slightest mistake could lead to someone’s death, she was educated from childhood to choose reason over emotion.

Though the lessons were harsh—unbearably so for a child—

Yet with countless burdens placed upon her shoulders, she could not afford the luxury of childish whims – she had no choice but to become an adult without ever indulging in a single childish complaint.

Thus schooled only in reason, she came to occupy a position where others’ deaths were reduced to mere numbers.

[Mortality Report]

The beloved child raised in their parents’ love.

The wise elder who guided all.

The kind woman who shared food with the hungry.

The soldiers who sacrificed themselves for all.

The reports stripped away every detail, reducing them all to a single digit: 1

She judged value, not humanity, repeating cold, mechanical calculations over and over.

— “M-Milady, the children are starving! Please, just this once, lend us aid!”

So she grew numb to death.

— “My… son died. While giving his portion to his younger sibling…”

She knew that giving in to sentiment would lead to more deaths and even greater disaster.

Even if she wasn’t truly numb, she forced herself to act as if she were.

— “My wife and daughter are dead. I suppose this is the price of having such a worthless father.”

Because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to bear it all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

[Mortality Report]

— Adult male. Suspected suicide.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Ah.”

Reason must take precedence over emotion.

In the harsh North, it was the only way for everyone to survive.

Therefore… yes… she must make rational decisions, so everyone could live…

“…………”

Hallucinations of ghosts before her eyes

Auditory hallucinations of everyone blaming her.

From the moment she began perceiving numbers as deaths, she could not close her eyes for even a moment.

Every instant was agony, but better than seeing the phantoms and hearing the voices of those who died by her decisions… To stay awake even a little longer, she closed her eyes and drank the beverage.

“………..?”

The taste differed from her usual tea.

It carried a warmth and comfort reminiscent of spring after winter’s end, and uncertain what it might be, she opened her eyes.

There in her hand was the tea Damian had left behind.

A truth acknowledged—

Logically, she knew no ordinary noble – let alone herself, a Grand Duchess – would be served a beverage laced with strange substances.

And yet, she had refused it, deliberately pushing him away, hoping he would grow tired of her and leave.

So once again, she moved to set down the teacup and clear it away, but

The tea’s extraordinary efficacy made it difficult to let go.

Though she couldn’t identify what kind of tea it was, beyond clearing her mind, it had swept away the fatigue that had been cutting through her body like knives,

And even dimmed the hallucinations and voices that had tormented her so, causing her gaze to drift repeatedly to the tea Damian had left.

‘…I mustn’t drink it.’

She couldn’t accept Damian’s goodwill, not in any form.

If she allowed herself to grow closer to him, she risked losing her standing as nothing more than a pawn in the Central Council’s political games.

And in that moment, all she had promised to the dying would become meaningless – she couldn’t make an emotional choice over a rational one—not now.

And yet.

Her exhausted body rejected every command from her mind, reaching for the teacup and bringing it repeatedly to her lips.

A taste like a warm spring day.

It resembled comfort, an emotion she hadn’t felt since her mother’s passing.

END of CHAPTER