A Whimsical ‘Ah’

Volume Three

Title: Chapter 21: A Whimsical ‘Ah’

“Between me, Anna, and that little maid of yours, who is the prettiest?”

“Ewan Campbell, who do you choose?”

Celicia’s voice was soft and gentle. In her eyes, which were sometimes dazed and sometimes vacant, brimming with a spring-like warmth, there was a touch of coquettishness that seemed uncharacteristic of her.

Her soft breaths carried a faint scent of wine and orchids, further stirring one’s heartstrings.

But.

Listening to Celicia’s words, Ewan found himself unable to appreciate any of it.

He was indignant.

He was in agony.

He trembled.

Tears streamed down his face.

Why?

He dared to ask, why?

Why did each and every one of them love to pose such soul-torturing multiple-choice questions?

What was the point of asking questions that only served to escalate conflict, offering no benefit whatsoever?

Wouldn’t a little peace be better?

Wouldn’t a little harmony be better?

Wouldn’t a little amiability be better?

Why must there always be a need to compete for superiority?

Wouldn’t it be better if everyone could happily become his ‘wings’ together?

‘I only wish for world peace, for everyone to find their own happiness. What is wrong with that?’

“Quick… answer quickly.”

Celicia urged, beginning to idly twirl the ice crystal longsword in her hand. Her frail, powerless appearance made it seem as though she might drop the sword at any moment.

Yet, with each erratic swing, distinct sword marks began to appear, grazing past Ewan on the door, the wall, and the floor, one after another.

Each mark made Ewan feel as if he were watching the little goldfish he had accidentally killed in his previous life, now joyfully waving to him from the banks of the River Styx.

“I…”

“Let me… let me say this beforehand: I won’t accept an option like a tie for first place, ‘ah.'” Celicia added.

‘So why does she suddenly become so clever at times like these?’

“Is that so?”

Ewan swallowed the fabricated excuse he had just prepared. He glanced at the sound-recording communication stone in Celicia’s hand, then took a deep breath.

“It seems I have no choice but to make a decision, then?”

“Hmm?”

Celicia lowered her head expectantly.

“Speak quickly.”

“I choose…”

Ewan stared into Celicia’s eyes, a look of absolute resolve on his face.

Then, he uttered his answer.

“I choose—death!”

“Eh?”

Having declared his choice, Ewan abruptly raised his hand in Celicia’s bewildered gaze and swung his fist fiercely…

He punched himself.

With that full-force blow, combined with an intentional mental shock, Ewan spun three and a half times in the air, scraped past the door, crashed into the opposite wall, and then…

He fainted.

Silence once again settled over the room.

Celicia’s cherry lips parted slightly as she watched Ewan knock himself out with a single punch. She blinked, her drunken mind clearly struggling to comprehend the current situation, giving her a charmingly innocent look.

Unfortunately, Ewan was no longer there to see it.

****

In the darkness, a light flickered.

A familiar-looking chief justice, seated high above, sharply struck his gavel.

“I declare Ewan Campbell, guilty of polygamy, sweet-talking, hypocrisy, defiling a princess, and being the ultimate scoundrel, sentenced to capital punishment!

Execution, now!”

“Execution! Execution!”

The jury members slammed their tables, shouting. A certain lawyer, whom Ewan found extremely familiar, excitedly pounded the table with deafening force.

“Kill him! Kill him!”

“Wait!”

Ewan frantically argued, “Hear me out! I’m not a scoundrel, I’m not!”

But it was too late. The scene instantly shifted. The chief justice and jury vanished. In a daze, Ewan found himself standing on an execution platform.

There was no guillotine on the platform, nor was there a hangman’s noose.

Instead, three maidens slowly emerged from the darkness.

“Young Master, I’m so sad. Why didn’t you choose me?”

“Junior, were all your previous words lies?”

“Ewan Campbell, are you no longer honoring our engagement?”

Their faces were filled with sorrow, and in their hands… each held a gleaming cleaver.

“Wait, hear me out! Hear me out!”

Ewan frantically backed away, but there was nowhere to escape behind him.

The maidens, gripping their cleavers, slowly advanced. Tears seemed to fall from their indistinct faces.

“Since… since you refuse to make a decision, then we will have to compromise.”

“Wh-what compromise?”

“We’ve decided to grant your wish and live in peace…”

“That’s good! That’s excellent!”

“Peacefully dividing you amongst ourselves.”

Ewan’s face suddenly froze. Immediately after, he saw the three gleaming cleavers descend simultaneously towards his head.

In his final moment, Ewan had but one thought.

‘Damn, those cleavers feel cold on my body!’

****

“I’m not a scoundrel, I’m not!”

Ewan screamed in terror, suddenly opening his eyes.

Thankfully, there were no cleavers in sight, only an unfamiliar ceiling.

“This is…”

Ewan paused, then excitedly sat up. “It’s morning? I don’t have to suffer anymore?”

“Hic… morning, what?” a familiar voice said.

Ewan’s smile instantly froze. He slowly turned his head, his neck so stiff he could almost hear his bones grinding.

The familiar scene once again entered his vision.

It was still the same room, the same candlelight, and the same tipsy Princess. It was as if nothing had changed.

He was currently sitting on the room’s only bed, silently staring at Celicia, who was half-crawled onto the bed’s edge.

“How… how long was I asleep?”

“Asleep… how long, ‘ah’?”

Celicia tilted her head, extending one hand and bending her fingers one by one, then held up three. “You slept for five minutes, ‘ah.'”

“Five minutes?”

Ewan’s mouth twitched.

This wasn’t right. The force he’d used should have kept him unconscious until morning! If he couldn’t even control that much, then all the abuse he suffered in the Black Book every night was for naught.

“Did you do something, Celicia?”

“I healed you, ‘ah.'”

Green light glowed from Celicia’s fingertips, then in the next moment, that verdant shimmer transformed into ice blue.

“And I also woke you up, ‘ah.'”

“…” Ewan’s mouth twitched violently at this. ‘No wonder the cleavers felt so cold; it was her doing.’

“Oh, wait.”

Just then, Ewan suddenly noticed something amiss.

Was Celicia’s face even redder?

And what was with that adorable ‘ah’ suffix?

Ewan tremblingly extended a finger and asked, “Celicia, what number is this?”

“This is…”

Celicia swayed as she looked up, examining his finger for a long moment before definitively answering, “Three!”

Then, she looked back at Ewan, placing a finger on her cherry lips, and asked in a dazed tone, “Hmm? Ew… Ewan Campbell, when did you… learn clone magic, ‘ah’?”

‘It’s over; she’s even more drunk.’

‘But why? I’ve never heard of drunkenness intensifying over time.’

Ewan slowly lowered his gaze.

At that moment, as Celicia sat up, Ewan finally saw what she had been pressing beneath her.

The gift box.

However, within the elegant gift box, in the grids meant for chocolates, at least half were now completely empty.

Ewan’s vision went black.

‘She was already terrifying after eating one, and now she’s eaten over a dozen more…’

‘My life is forfeit!’