Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 258

Michael had ignored Irene’s desperate pleas—her tearful requests to please, just take it slow—and had instead succumbed to his survival instincts, mercilessly driving himself into her.

So, of course, Irene had every right to leave him behind.

But…

“……”

As she looked at him—at the man begging her not to go—Irene hesitated.

Then, she let go of the clothes that had been covering her body.

With her ruined, disheveled form, she stepped toward him once more, cupped his face in her hands—

And kissed him.

As if to promise that she would stay.

What happened after that?

The moment she touched him, his rationality vanished again, and instinct took over.

And in the fleeting moments when what little remained of his reason whispered to him—told him that if he continued like this, Irene would come to hate him—

She had leaned in and whispered against his ear.

“It’s okay. I’m okay… I just don’t want you to suffer.”

She could have left him at any time.

But instead, Irene had chosen to stay—because she was worried about him.

Cecilia, who had been rambling on and on, finally fell silent.

The wind was cold. She was ready to go back inside.

“Let’s head in now. It’s freezing. And besides, it’s time to officially announce to everyone that you are not only my pair—but a proud member of the royal family.”

Then, she added,

“Not that my parents or my siblings will be surprised. They’ve already been keeping track of your movements, so I doubt they’ll be shocked. The same goes for everyone else, really.”

“They’ve been keeping track? How much do they know?”

“Oh, everything. From that idiot Irene to all the things I did to claim you as mine—”

Cecilia started to laugh…

And finally noticed something was wrong.

Michael, who had always maintained his formal politeness toward her, was now speaking to her like he was issuing commands.

She turned her head to look at him.

And that was when she truly saw his face.

There was not a trace of a smile on it.

His eyes, colder than the winter wind, were locked onto her.

His gaze was freezing, as if it could turn her to ice.

And yet, beyond those blue irises, a fire raged.

Michael drew his sword.

He could have killed her right then and there, while her back was turned.

But he had no intention of letting her die so easily.

He thought of Irene’s corpse.

Of the way she had curled up in agony as she took her final breath—her face frozen in terror at the moment of death.

Because Irene had died like that, this woman…

No, she deserved to suffer hundreds of times more.

Only then would she begin to understand even a fraction of what she had done.

He had no plans to kill her swiftly.

So he swung his sword, aiming for her wrist.

But just before his blade could make contact—

Flash!

A brilliant light erupted.

And in an instant—Cecilia vanished.

Michael stared at the now-empty space, then let out a short, bitter laugh.

“An artifact, huh.”

It wasn’t surprising.

Cecilia had reaped many rewards from the fortress’s dungeons.

Naturally, among them were artifacts—and she had likely kept anything she deemed useful instead of selling them.

Visconti, after all, was a kingdom that had been collecting artifacts for generations. It was possible she had used an ancient one.

But he felt no disappointment at missing his chance.

“No, this is even better.”

She wouldn’t have gotten far.

Somewhere within the palace, she was still here.

And even if she had escaped beyond the palace, it didn’t matter.

Starting now, Princess Cecilia would learn what it meant to be the hunted.

Michael turned and walked back toward the banquet hall, sword in hand.

The moment he stepped inside, one of Cecilia’s brothers spotted him and approached.

He was already thoroughly drunk.

“Sir Michael! I assume you and Cecilia had a good talk?”

He clapped Michael on the shoulder as if they were old friends.

“Now that we’re brothers-in-law, we might as well drop the formalities. I can just call you Michael, right?”

“Irene.”

“What?”

“Did you know what happened to Irene?”

“Who? …Ah, that worthless Purifier? The one who kept clinging to you?”

The prince threw back his drink in a single gulp and laughed.

“She didn’t know her place, but I heard she had a decent face and body. I bet you had your fun with her. If she were still alive, I might’ve taken a turn mys—”

“AAAAARGH!”

A sudden scream cut through the air.

Everyone in the banquet hall froze—then their gazes snapped toward the source of the sound.

Lying on the ground, screaming, was the Visconti crown prince—

His severed wrist on the floor beside him.

And next to him, Michael stood calmly, shaking the blood from his sword.

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

Then—

Chaos erupted.

Shrieks and panicked cries filled the hall as everyone began to flee for their lives.

The banquet hall was consumed by horrified screams.

***

A short while later, Michael exhaled—his breath steady, untouched by exhaustion.

Behind him, corpses lay scattered across the banquet hall.

They were all members of the Visconti royal family.

And not just them.

Amid the dismembered bodies, severed limbs clad in armor could be seen.

They had all been knights—the ones who had silently condoned Cecilia’s actions.

The ones who had mocked Irene.

Michael turned his head.

The middle-aged knight from the tavern—

The one who had once told him to know shame—

Was staring at him in absolute horror.

“Why… why would you…”

His teeth chattered as he spoke, voice trembling with fear.

“The princess… she had an artifact. Where did she go?”

“…If I don’t answer, will you kill me?”

Michael shook his head.

“No. Because you were the only knight who ever showed Irene compassion.”

At the mention of her name, the knight let out a long, shaky sigh.

Now, at last—he understood.

Why Michael had done this.

His gaze swept across the ruined banquet hall.

Anyone could see it.

Tonight—the Visconti royal family had fallen.

Cecilia had survived, but that didn’t matter.

Her death was inevitable.

The end of the royal family meant there was no one left to serve.

With a hollow look, the knight lifted his head—

And wordlessly turned his eyes toward a building outside the window.

It was the royal artifact vault.

That was all the answer Michael needed.