CHAPTER 48: CHAPTER: 48 COUNTLESS LIVES, COUNTLESS DREAMS, AND STILL THE CYCLE CONTINUES.

When Vivian suddenly vanished from the dungeon, the news struck Charlotte like a blade to the heart.

Devastated, she rushed into the depths of the dungeon herself, searching every floor, every corner, yet not a single trace of him remained.

Even when Professor Garhard tried to stop her, she refused to listen at first, desperate to believe he might still be there.

When she was finally forced to leave, her strength broke.

She screamed, cried, and collapsed outside the dungeon, her voice echoing through the forest until it grew hoarse.

For ten days, she refused to move from that place, her tears unending, her world shattered by his disappearance.

After ten days, Charlotte finally collapsed from exhaustion and was carried back to the palace.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying in her own bed, the familiar ceiling of the royal chamber above her.

The warmth of the blankets felt foreign, too soft, too safe, after those endless days in the cold forest.

She was told that two months had already passed since Vivian’s disappearance.

There had been no news, no signs of life. And though no one said it outright, she could hear it in their tone, see it in their eyes, everyone had already accepted that Vivian had died in the dungeon, claimed by some unknown fate.

Her father, the emperor and her mother, the empress, stayed by her side, trying to console her as she wept.

For days, her cries filled the palace halls until, at last, her tears ran dry.

One morning, her voice quiet and trembling, she told them she needed time.

Understanding her pain, her parents respected her wish and left her alone, for a while.

But her parents never knew the truth, that their daughter had already lost her reason to live.

At least, that’s what Charlotte believed. In her despair, she shattered her mana core and slit both her wrists.

Though her veins were severed and her blood stained the marble floor, she was discovered in time and saved.

Yet to her parents’ horror, Charlotte did not awaken. Her body lived, but her soul seemed trapped somewhere far away, locked in a deep, unending coma.

And within that darkness, Charlotte began to dream.

No matter how much she resisted, she was dragged into those dreams, one after another, living countless lives as people she had never met, in worlds she did not recognize.

Each time, she forgot who she truly was, swallowed by another identity, another fate she could not escape.

In those dreams, Charlotte would live what seemed like an ordinary life, a childhood filled with laughter, the quiet years of youth, and the tender days of adulthood.

Yet beneath that fragile normalcy, there was always something... off.

In every dream, without exception, she would fall in love and marry a man whose face was obscured by a white patch.

She could never see his features clearly, yet she knew him, his voice, his warmth, the rhythm of his heartbeat when she rested against his chest.

Despite his facelessness, her heart belonged to him completely.

Her affection ran so deep that she could have died a thousand times over just to see him smile once more.

The dreams were blissful at first, filled with love, comfort, and fleeting peace, but they never ended that way.

Each one would eventually twist into a nightmare.

A dragon would descend from the heavens, its roar shaking the world, and before she could even scream, the man with the white patch would sacrifice himself to protect her.

And in every single dream, at the very moment the man died, the white patch upon his face would fade away.

In its place appeared a face she knew all too well, one she had cherished, longed for, and lost. It was his face.

Vivian’s face.

And in those final moments, he would always smile at her, repeating the same words again and again, that he loved her, and that he was grateful she had loved him.

In every dream, at the end of his life, those were the words he would always say.

And the instant she saw him and hear his words, the illusion of the dream would shatter.

Every memory, every word, every touch, every fight, would come flooding back into her mind.

She would remember how she had once warned him never to cross the line with any other woman, how possessive and foolishly in love she had been.

The weight of it all crushed her.

The joy of the dream would collapse into despair so deep it hollowed her out, leaving her drowning in emptiness and guilt.

And every time, the same thought tore through her mind, an unbearable urge to end it all, just to escape the pain of losing him again.

She would scream until her throat bled, tear at her hair in madness, and weep for days, days that felt like eternities.

And then, just when her grief reached its peak, the world around her would dissolve into darkness.

Moments later, she would awaken again, this time as someone else. A newborn. A different name, a different life. Her memories erased. The cycle would begin anew.

Each dream felt real, each life complete, yet every one of them ended the same way, with love, loss, and the unbearable pain of watching him die again and again.

She no longer knew how many times she had lived and died within those dreams.

The count had long slipped from her grasp, drowned beneath the endless tide of illusion and despair.

All that remained was a single truth that echoed through every lifetime, no matter who she became, no matter where she was born, her heart would always find him, and lose him again.

But oddly enough, when the most recent dream ended, she wasn’t pulled into another.

Instead, Charlotte found herself standing in a vast, colorless void where nothing existed but white.

No sky, no ground, just an endless expanse that stretched beyond reason.

No matter which direction she turned, it was all the same.

And no matter how far she walked, she always ended up in the center again, trapped in stillness.

"Where... am I?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she sank to the ground, clutching her knees to her chest.

Her once-glossy hair hung in tangled strands, and dark circles carved deep shadows beneath her eyes.

Her royal grace was long gone; what sat there now was only a hollow reflection of the proud princess she once was, a broken soul, lost in a world without color.

As she stared into the endless white, something shifted in the distance.

A faint outline, human, distant, yet unmistakably there, took shape before her eyes.

Charlotte froze, her breath catching in her throat.

Her heart pounded violently against her chest as she squinted at the figure standing amid the blinding emptiness.

Her lips trembled as a whisper escaped them.

"...Vivian?"

The figure didn’t move. It simply stood there, silent, unmoving, then slowly, almost gently, it smiled.

That smile... she knew it.

She had seen it countless times, across countless dreams.

The same tender curve of his lips, filled with warmth and sorrow, the smile he wore each time he died before her eyes.

It was that smile.

The one he gave her at the end of every dream, when he thanked her for loving him so deeply, even as he faded away.

"Vivian..." she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

Her trembling legs pushed her upright as she took a hesitant step forward, then another.

Each movement was cautious, fearful, terrified that the man she loved so deeply would vanish if she moved too quickly.

But even after ten steps, the figure did not disappear.

Instead, it grew clearer, more defined, until she could almost see his outline, the slope of his shoulders, the shape of his face.

A glimmer of hope bloomed within her chest. Her lips parted in a trembling smile as tears welled up in her eyes.

Unable to hold back any longer, she broke into a run, her heart racing with desperate joy.

"Vivian!"

She reached out, arms open wide, ready to pull him into her embrace—

—but the moment her fingertips brushed the air before him, the figure dissolved into nothingness..

She couldn’t even register his warmth before he disappeared, vanishing like mist before her eyes.

"Please... don’t go," she whispered, her voice breaking as her knees gave way beneath her. "I can’t live without you... please, at least take me with you... I don’t want to stay here..."

Her words dissolved into sobs.

As her sobs echoed through the void, a voice cut through the emptiness, cold, sharp, and laced with disdain.

"It’s your fault that Vivian died."

Charlotte’s chest tightened. She drew in a sharp, trembling breath and spun around, searching for the source of the voice.

Then she saw it.

A gasp escaped her lips, sharp and involuntary, as her eyes widened in shock. The figure standing before her was... unlike anything she had expected.