[After a long silence and exchange of gazes, Theresa chose to reveal everything to you, and also firmly stated her resolve to return to Kazdel.] [This plunged you into silence.
After all, you had never imagined that the Theresa you had bought on a whim at the border and raised all these years would become the Sarkaz King—the most terrifying existence of this era, feared by all nations of Terra.] [But you also knew that Theresa would never joke with you about something like this.] [In the end, you asked Theresa her reason for returning.] [Theresa did not answer you.
She merely remained silent.] [Your hands folded before you.
You gazed at Theresa, who had grown so much—watching this girl whose youthful softness had faintly receded, replaced by the bloom of youth and vitality.
For a long, long while, you spoke not a single word.] First-Person Mode Engaged.
In the room, still as magnificent as ever, Ecaros gazed upon Theresa, who already faintly resembled her future self.
The girl’s beauty was not of this mortal world.
Waist-length silvery-white hair cascaded like a waterfall.
A pure white robe wrapped her budding figure.
At the same time, a black crown—as if belonging to a space beyond this one—hovered above Theresa’s head, emitting faint ripples of energy.
The faint, commanding pressure over all living beings was proof of the girl’s identity as the Sarkaz King.
“Must you truly go?” Ecaros’ voice was impossible to read—calm as a stagnant pool.
Those deep, pale golden eyes likewise made it difficult to guess her thoughts at this moment.
“Mn…” “Is it not good to stay in Victoria?” “I must return.
This is the mission of the Sarkaz King.” “But you are also mine!
…my slave, Theresa.” Ecaros’ words unconsciously quickened.
But at the end, looking at Theresa, the words she wanted to say caught in her throat.
Only after a pause could she force them out.
Now, she watched the expressionless Theresa, her own heart inexplicably in turmoil.
She could not understand why such a thing had happened, nor why it had to be Theresa.
“I know, Ecaros.” “So I promise you—I will certainly come find you after I have settled everything.” Though already the Sarkaz King, upon hearing the word that left Ecaros’ lips, Theresa did not grow angry.
Instead, a gentle smile graced her face.
Those beautiful amber eyes met Ecaros’ incomparably icy gaze.
In Ecaros’ veiled attempt to keep her, Theresa felt reassurance and a faint trace of joy.
In truth, she did not want to leave Victoria either, nor did she wish to leave Ecaros—this person who appeared cold on the surface but was, in truth, awkwardly gentle.
But Theresa had no choice but to leave.
Not only for the so-called mission, for the sake of the Sarkaz and Kazdel.
But also so that, in the future, she could stand at Ecaros’ side as a more equal existence.
Over these years, Theresa had learned many, many things.
She had also come to recognize that the gap between herself and Ecaros was like an impassable chasm.
Ecaros was the final heir of an ancient Victorian house, the Grand Duchess of Manchester, revered and feared by countless people.
While she herself was merely an ordinary Sarkaz—one who had been lucky enough to encounter Ecaros on her travels, and who had used her own Originium Arts to draw the other’s attention.
Only thus had she and her brother been able to receive a life and education that should never have belonged to Sarkaz like them…
That’s right.
Back then, Theresa had used her newly awakened Originium Arts on Ecaros.
In her eyes, it was her Arts that had, to some extent, influenced Ecaros’ emotions, allowing her to chance upon the life she now had.
All this luck and coincidence made the current Theresa, upon waking each morning, still feel immeasurably grateful for her actions and good fortune back then.
And at the same time, she found her past self’s desire for freedom laughable.
After all, how many people could never chase after the life she led now?
Lacking no money, sleeping on the softest beds, eating the most delicious food, wearing the most expensive clothes, receiving an education considered among the very best in all of Terra.
She called herself a slave, but Theresa knew well that in Ecaros’ eyes, it would be more accurate to say she was treated like family…
Her brother was the same, and had benefited greatly over these years.
Thus, truthfully, Theresa was truly grateful to Ecaros.
But…
Theresa was also afraid.
She had always been afraid—even terrified that everything she now possessed might, in the end, be utterly lost.
Theresa was not worried that Ecaros would abandon her.
She understood this awkward noble’s heart and essence better than anyone.
This was, to some degree, the convenience her Originium Arts afforded—allowing Theresa to more easily understand a person.
Yet she still feared loss.
After all, Theresa had always been a child who lacked a sense of security.
Ever since losing her parents, Theresa had never felt secure.
In fact, until the night Ecaros had spoken those words, she had never again slept a single peaceful slumber.
Moreover, the more a person gains, the more they fear losing it.
One might have been able to endure the darkness—but only on the condition that one has never seen the light…
Theresa was the same.
Thus, she feared loss.
That was precisely why she longed to truly grasp hold of everything.
In the past, she indeed had no means to firmly grasp everything she had obtained.
So she could only play along with Ecaros’ so-called game, pouring all her strength into challenging Ecaros time and time again.
And after each defeat, even as a part of her felt relieved, another part began to worry—that her failures might disappoint Ecaros, and that she might even lose the life she now had.
Perhaps, as Ecaros had said, this game could continue indefinitely.
But having received the power of the Black Crown, the identity of the Sarkaz King, and the opportunity to truly stand at Ecaros’ side, Theresa could not help but wonder—could this be the only chance she would ever have in this life?
Theresa wanted to gain a status equal to Ecaros.
She wanted to save those of her kin who might be trapped in the same insecurity as herself.
She wanted to rely on her own two hands and hold everything firmly under her own control.
She also wanted to be like Ecaros—able to speak words that put others at ease.
Theresa truly wanted to stay by Ecaros’ side.
She wanted to understand Ecaros’ past, to continue living together with her, to brew a pot of black tea for her when she reviewed documents, to gently carry her back to bed when she fell asleep on her desk at night, to stroll together through the streets of Victoria, basking in the warm afternoon sunlight…
She wanted to stand at Ecaros’ side, truly and equally!
But she understood that this was nearly impossible.
Because Theresa the Sarkaz was but a commoner of grassroots origin—a slave.
She could feel the strange looks others cast upon her.
She was different from the people of Londinium.
She was different from Ecaros…
Thus, she wanted to obtain an identity equal to Ecaros—one that would let her never again fear loss, that would let her stand shoulder to shoulder with Ecaros, disregarding all the world’s strange looks, undiscriminated against, unridiculed.
And these…
were things she could never obtain by staying in Victoria.
Only by going to Kazdel.
Only by becoming the Sarkaz King.
She had to leave.
Not merely for the Black Crown and the so-called mission of the Sarkaz, but also so that one day, she could truly stand alongside Ecaros, the Grand Duchess.
Thus, gazing into Ecaros’ pale golden eyes, Theresa’s amber eyes held no confusion—only limpid resolve.
And this was her answer.