CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER: 40 THANK YOU FOR LOVING ME.

Vivian gripped his right chest where the wound bled. A sharp, intense pain shot through his head.

"Are you alright, Kafrik?" the man asked, watching Kafrik clutch his left shoulder and try to stand.

"What do you think, you fool? I told you to attack him earlier! You could’ve killed him at any moment, but you just waited and watched the show, you idiot," Kafrik spat, overcome with rage.

"Take it easy, Kafrik," the man reasoned. "You said you wanted to kill him yourself, so I didn’t step in. What’s wrong with that?"

".....", Kafrik didn’t say anything as he glared at the men.

’This is bad,’ Vivian thought as he watched the two attackers argue.

This was completely unexpected.

He knew there was a second person, but he never thought the overwhelming presence he felt would belong to him.

’Why is he here?’ Vivian wondered.

’He shouldn’t be here. And why did he attack me?’ Vivian couldn’t figure it out, because the person who should have been overseeing this exam was the one who shot him.

"Professor Garhard Retrakes!" Vivian spat through clenched teeth. The professor in charge of the exams had attacked him.

Why? He didn’t know, but one thing was clear: this entire situation was a trap, and Vivian was the target.

"Oh, look at him," Garhard Retrakes remarked with an amused smirk. "He still hasn’t fainted from a wound like that."

"Ugh" Vivian groaned.

Garhard paused, then faced Kafrik. "So, what’s the plan? Should we kill him, or what?"

"No," Kafrik refused, locking his gaze on Vivian. "I won’t kill him now. I will make sure to torture him and pay back every bit of humiliation he gave me."

Every word Kafrik spoke was filled with poison, and Vivian felt sick with disgust. This was the honorable person he had written about? This hateful bastard.

Vivian swallowed his rage as he looked at the limp bodies of Asmit and Subha.

They weren’t breathing, they were dead. Watching his friends die before him made his anger boil over.

"Kafrik, don’t think you’ll get away with this," Vivian spat, his eyes bloodshot with fury. He vowed that if he managed to escape this situation, he would definitely kill Kafrik.

"Hmph," Kafrik sneered with contempt.

"And how do you plan to make me pay? Don’t get your hopes up. In your condition, you can’t even escape from me, much less him." He pointed toward the professor, who was watching with an amused smirk.

’Damn it,’ Vivian cursed to himself.

Kafrik was right , he too knew that the situation was hopeless. If it were only Kafrik, he might have found a way to escape.

But the Professor was here—a Swordmaster.

Even if he was the weakest Swordmaster, he was still one of them, and Vivian, even when fully healthy, wouldn’t be able to defeat him.

’What should I do?’ Vivian asked himself, despair clouding his eyes as he searched for an escape that didn’t exist.

There was no way out. The very person who was supposed to oversee the exam was now colluding against him, ensuring that no outside interference would come.

’Am I really going to die?’ The thought crept into his mind, heavier and darker than anything he had ever felt.

But what could he do in this bleak moment? His body was battered, his wounds deep, and his weapon lay shattered, broken in a single strike by the professor.

There was no escape, no hope.

After nineteen years of suffering, he had finally escaped death by transmigrating into this body.

Yet the very thing he had feared most was repeating itself once again.

The feeling he had longed to forget crept back toward him, the scent of death itself.

"Sigh..."

He let out a long, heavy sigh, trying to release the thoughts clawing at his mind, but they refused to fade.

’Is there truly no way to survive this hopeless situation?’ he asked himself. But no answer came, deep down, he knew that no outside help would arrive.

The Professor must have already taken measures to prevent it.

’Is this the end?’ At this moment, one face surfaced in his memory, clear and unbidden, refusing to let him go.

"Mother..."

His mother’s face surfaced in his mind as tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks.

When he had first seen her after transmigrating, he had believed, naively, perhaps, that he had finally found parents of his own.

His mother’s love had been so warm, so constant, that he had felt blessed, as though at last he could live this new life without regrets.

But now, in this moment, reality tore at that fragile hope.

His dreams were shattering like glass, splintering under the weight of the situation he found himself in.

"Hey, look at him—he’s crying! Hahaha!" Kafrik burst into wild laughter, his voice echoing off the walls as he watched the sight of his lifelong enemy brought low.

"I’m sorry... Mother, Father, Edward... I won’t be able to see you again," Vivian muttered, his voice breaking as he made his decision. "I wish I could have spent a little more time with you, but my fate won’t allow me to live a life like this."

He didn’t bother to wipe his tears; he let them fall freely. Yet even as he cried, the despair from before began to fade. In its place rose a steady, burning determination.

"Charlotte... I’m sorry. I wasn’t the real Vivian... but the little time I spent with you was truly beautiful. I hope whatever you do from now on is filled with happiness."

Muttering those words under his breath, he gripped the dagger at his waist, his fingers tightening around the hilt.

"To make your life easier, I’ll erase the obstacles." He muttered the words and forced himself to his feet, steadied his gaze on Kafrik, who was still clutching his left shoulder.

Seeing Vivian move, Kafrik burst into another cruel laugh. "You piece of trash, think you can fight?"

"Just be patient. I will—" he began, but was cut off mid-sentence as his eyes widened in shock.

Vivian lunged. He hurled himself at Kafrik, dagger first, every scrap of aura focused into that single strike.

The blade swelled in his hand, elongating until it felt more like a sword than a dagger, bright, humming with force.

Tsk!

Garhard clicked his tongue, unimpressed. The effort was foolish, if admirable.

With a casual flick he could have ended it; instead he used the flat of his blade and swung, slamming it into Vivian’s gut.

Bam!

The strike landed with a thunderous crack, sending Vivian hurtling through the air.

He slammed into a jagged boulder, the impact splintering his ribs and tearing through flesh.

Blood streaked down his body, staining the ground beneath him.

Cough... cough... Even breathing was agony, each cough a stab of white-hot pain.

Yet he knew this suffering wouldn’t last much longer. His vision blurred, edges darkening, but amidst the haze a single image shone clear—Charlotte.

’Is this... an illusion?’

She appeared as radiant as ever, that beautiful smile tugging at her lips, the very same smile she’d worn the first time she asked him to show her around the city.

But soon, the smile faded, replaced by a cold, distant gaze, filled with disdain, as if she had just realized that he wasn’t the real Vivian.

"Please... don’t look at me with those eyes... at least give me a smile, even if it’s fake," he whispered.

His eyes wouldn’t stop trembling, overflowing with tears as they desperately sought that smile.

That smile, it was simply too lovable. He had always cherished it. And now, in this fleeting moment, he only wanted to see her smile at him one last time... and ask if he had truly loved her.

Whenever they were alone, she would always ask whether he truly loved her or not.

But because of his shy nature, he could never bring himself to say how much he loved her.

And deep inside, there was also the guilt of deceiving her, a weight that sealed his lips every time.

And now that he was dying, he could finally say what he had always wanted to.

"No matter how many lives I may live," he whispered, "I will always fall in love with you... in every single one of them."

He paused, his vision blurring as tears welled up. His trembling voice struggled to continue.

"I will love you for eternity, Charlotte... and..."

There was no strength left in his voice now. With the faintest breath, he whispered,

"Thank you... for loving someone like me."

With those words, his eyelids grew heavy. Darkness, the same endless void he had once despised, reached for him—and this time, he sank into it willingly.

Silence swallowed the clearing. Kafrik’s eyes burned with fury. "Hey — you fucking idiot! I told you not to kill him. So why did you kill him?"

Hamh!

Garhard snorted. "Don’t act all superior. I killed him because if I hadn’t, that last strike would’ve cleaved you in two." He sneered.

Kafrik couldn’t muster a response.

For a long moment he ground his teeth, rage and frustration warring beneath the surface until he forced himself to calm.

He pointed toward the trunks where the bodies lay, the three corpses of the men they’d cut down. "So what do we do with them?" he asked at last.

"We burn them," Garhard said in a solemn tone.