The Whisper of the God of Love (Finale)

The last rays of the setting sun stretched the shadows long across the land, painting the world in hues of orange and blood.

In the small, ruined fishing village, Ewan, holding a shovel Anne had conjured from solid metal, found a spot bathed in the final golden light. With steady, rhythmic motions, he began to dig into the fresh, damp earth.

A small grave quickly took shape. When it was about half a meter deep, he stopped.

It was enough.

He stepped aside, and Anne came forward, cradling Elka’s head in her hands as if it were a fragile, sleeping child.

Elka’s eyes were closed. A faint, gentle smile graced her lips. It seemed she had found a satisfactory answer in the end, leaving this world with few regrets.

Anne gently placed her head in the shallow grave. Then, with her bare hands, she began to cover it, scoop by scoop, with the dark, rich soil.

Ewan didn’t help this time. He simply leaned on the shovel, watching the distant, dying sun, and listened to Anne’s soft, mournful whisper.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her gaze downcast and filled with a quiet, bottomless sorrow. “I couldn’t find anyone to bury with you.”

When the Evil God had descended, all the flesh and blood had become its food. Not even a speck of dust remained. In the end, all Anne could do was bring Elka back to this empty, silent village to be buried.

At least, in a way, she was home.

The beautiful head was gradually, tenderly covered by the earth.

Anne placed the last handful of soil on the small mound. Then, with a mere thought, a metal tombstone materialized from the air, standing silent guard over the grave.

She reached out, intending to inscribe something on it, but after a long moment of hesitation, she found she couldn’t write a single word.

The Grave of Elka? No, that felt too lonely.

The Name of the Village? But beneath the earth, there was nothing but a single, severed head.

“Let it be,” Ewan said softly, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. “A tragedy does not need to be memorialized.”

“Is that so?” Anne looked up, a dazed, lost expression on her face. She withdrew her hand. “Then I will do as you say, Young Master.”

The silent village was devoid of any sign of life. Anne stared at the blank tombstone for a long, long time, as if lost in deep, labyrinthine thought. It was only when she was certain that she could find no answer to the questions swirling in her mind that she turned, her voice small and hesitant. “Young Master.”

“Hm?”

“Was I wrong?”

“Wrong? About what?”

“About my love.”

Love is possession.

Love is obtaining everything of the one you love.

Love is being with the one you love, forever.

Love is using any means necessary.

Not long ago, she had believed these things with all her heart. This was love. What a beautiful, perfect love it was!

But seeing Elka’s monstrous form, desperately trying to consume the ones she loved, Anne felt as if she were looking into a mirror. And in that mirror, she saw herself, whispering of love, just as twisted, just as ugly. It made her wonder… was that nauseating, horrifying thing truly love?

“Young Master, is my love… wrong?”

“Perhaps,” Ewan said, nodding, and then shaking his head. “Or perhaps, you’ve simply mistaken possessiveness for love.”

“Possessiveness?”

“The desire that arises when you desperately want to own something,” Ewan explained. “Possessiveness is often born from love, and it can look very similar. Although they are fundamentally different, they are easily, and often, confused.”

“Do you mean to say… I’ve confused the two?”

“I don’t know,” Ewan said softly. “Everyone has their own thoughts, their own hearts. Only you can know for sure whether what you hold in your heart is love or possessiveness.”

“But it’s my own heart that is the hardest to understand,” Anne said with a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

She turned to look at Ewan’s profile. His handsome face, silhouetted against the setting sun, created a heart-stoppingly beautiful image. It made her want to pull that face into her arms and hold it tight, to never let go. In that moment, was what she felt love, or was it possessiveness?

“What… is love?”

This question, which had once seemed so simple to her, had suddenly become the world’s most difficult, unsolvable puzzle. But perhaps, if she looked at it from a different angle…

A faint, shy blush crept onto her cheeks. “Young Master, I believe you said something before.”

“Hm? Said what?”

“You said…” Anne’s cheeks grew redder as she spoke. “…that you and I could try dating, like a normal couple.”

“I seem to recall saying something to that effect,” Ewan said, a sudden, vivid memory of his desperate attempt to placate her in the cell flashing through his mind. Why is she bringing this up now? A frown creased his brow. Something wasn’t right.

“Since you said that, Young Master, does that mean we could… start over?”

“Start over… you mean…”

“Just like normal people. Become a normal couple.”

Date. Marry. Even have children. A way to explore, to discover, what true love really was.

“I see. I think I understand what you’re getting at,” Ewan said with a slow nod. As if blinded by the setting sun, he casually took a few steps back. “But just to be safe, I have to ask—are you planning on taking me back to the ducal estate after this?”

“Of course!” Anne nodded vigorously, a shy and hopeful look on her face. “I grew up in the ducal estate. It’s the only home I’ve ever known… Of course, I’m not trying to become the lady of the house or anything like that. I’ll still serve you as your personal maid. But, while I’m serving you, could we perhaps…”

The young woman turned her head, her blushing face full of sweet, innocent hope for the future. To build a little love nest with the Young Master in the ducal estate, to do all sorts of embarrassing things, maybe even have ten or twenty children… just thinking about it makes me…

WHOOSH—

Anne heard the sound of something whistling through the air. In the instant she turned back, she saw her Young Master’s cold, determined face, and—

A shovel.

Before she could react, with a dull thump, a flicker of pure, unadulterated surprise was the last thing she saw before her world went black and she crumpled to the ground.

“Hmph. Wicked woman.”

Looking at the unconscious Anne, a wicked, triumphant grin spread across Ewan’s face. “Still trying to trick me into going back to the ducal estate for another round of imprisonment play? Do I look that easy to fool?”

“A Saint never falls for the same trick twice!”

“The ducal estate? Not even a dog would go back there!”

The dimming twilight illuminated the man’s wild, almost manic laughter. A pair of mating waterfowl, hidden in the reeds by the lake, peeked out at the lone figure standing in the cold wind. Their eyes were full of pity.

…

“Where… am I?”

Anne awoke from her unconscious state to the sight of a familiar, ornate ceiling.

“Head Maid, you’re awake!” A young girl who had been waiting by her bedside leaned over, her face full of joy. “How are you feeling? Is anything wrong?”

“Noelle?” Looking at the girl, also in a maid’s uniform, Anne’s eyes were filled with a hazy confusion. “Why are you here? And… right, where is the Young Master?” She shot up in bed, frantically looking around. “Where is he?”

“This is the ducal estate, of course I’m here,” Noelle said, blinking. She then stammered, “As for the Young Master… after he brought you back, he changed his clothes and left in a hurry.” At this, a faint blush appeared on Noelle’s cheeks. “Why was the Young Master wearing such an indecent outfit? Did he pick up some bad habits while he was away?”

“The Young Master left?” Anne’s eyes widened, her expression quickly turning to a flash of cold anger. “Then why didn’t you stop him?!”

“He’s the Young Master. How could we possibly stop him?” Noelle said with a pained expression. “Besides, he said he was going to school. We didn’t have a reason to stop him.”

“Is… is that so?”

Anne slumped back onto the bed, utterly defeated. It was true. If the Young Master really wanted to leave, how could a normal maid possibly stop him?

“Then… I’ll be taking my leave. Please get some rest, Head Maid.” Noelle curtsied and quickly excused herself. The Head Maid is acting very strangely. I’d better get out of here before something weird happens.

…

After Noelle left, Anne rose from the bed and walked to the window. She gazed out at the familiar scenery. In the manor’s garden, maids were busy trimming the hedges into various pleasing, artistic shapes. But even so, the vast ducal estate suddenly felt cold and empty.

“So you ran away, did you, Young Master.”

“And to Saint Marika Academy, of all places, where outsiders are forbidden. How very clever of you.”

Anne rested her head against the cool glass, her gaze fixed on a point far, far in the distance. But of course, the person she so desperately wanted to see was long gone.

“I will not give up.”

She placed her fingers on the glass and dragged them down with a sudden, fierce motion. The sound was a sharp, grating screech, and her nails left five, ferocious white scratches on the pane.

“No matter where you run, Young Master, I will bring you back. And then… I will keep you by my side forever and ever, and we will never be separated again.”

An intense, obsessive gleam, the same as before, appeared in her eyes.

“But…”

Anne slowly sank to the floor. Through the curtain of her hair, her elegant, refined face was flushed as red as a ripe apple. It was the shyness of a young maiden, and her newfound torment. The darkness was gone, replaced by a clear, pure, and beautiful light.

“I don’t think I can bring myself to hurt the Young Master anymore. What am I going to do?”

…

I love you, Young Master.

…

【Jealousy Progression: 100%】

【Fixed Progression Reached. Fate Intervention Initiated.】

【Partial Memory Obfuscation Complete.】

【…】

【Please continue to struggle, Ewan Campbell.】

…

(End of Volume 1)

Author’s Note:

This volume has finally come to an end! Congratulations, congratulations!

Some of you clever and handsome readers might be asking, “Why did you handle the ending this way? Wouldn’t it have been nice to let Ewan and Anne be all lovey-dovey in the ducal estate?”

Of course, that would have been very nice, but it would have inevitably locked the story into a pure, one-on-one romance route with Anne.

And this is a harem novel.

I know many of you enjoy that kind of story, but we can’t let Ewan just stay in the ducal estate and rot, or really let him go back to the countryside and become a farmer. He has to get out into the world.

Only by getting out can the plot develop, and only then can he meet more beautiful girls.

Anne’s role won’t be diminished; she is one of the main heroines.

Besides, I want to let her keep a bit of her yandere side. Isn’t that cuter?

The next volume will be just as exciting.

Thank you again.

See you next time.