Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 274
TL: Elphie / PR: Marm
For a beast that had become corruption itself, there was only ever one desire.
He wanted Irene.
He wanted to exist as the only one by her side and the only one reflected in her eyes.
How easy it would be. All he had to do was seize her and drag her into his world to claim her as his.
He couldnāt tolerate Irene looking at anyone else, so he wouldnāt mind killing them all before leaving.
At first, she would weep. She would curse him. She might even push him away.
But she was kind. If he held her again and again and whispered his love over and over, then one day she would look at him with warmth once more.
And if not, there were other ways.
āH-Hiccā¦ā
Michaelās gaze snapped to Cecilia who was cowering and trembling on the ground.
That one. The one he wanted to kill most but had been forced to let live.
If he killed Cecilia now, the world he had built would collapse under the weight of its own causality.
Not just her. Kill any of them, any one of them, and this world will end immediately.
āā¦Shall we begin again?ā
He murmured, voice quiet and almost tender.
He had triggered the Impossibility more times than he could count. In the end, he had created a world where Irene existed.
So it wouldnāt be a big deal to start over once more.
Yes, it would take time. Yes, he would have to kill countless things all over again.
āButā¦ā
Michael thought back to the time he had spent with her in this world. Less than half a year had passed from the night of the contract to the arrival of summer.
Yet those few short months had been enough to outweigh the thousands, the tens of thousands of years before them.
At first, Irene had been wary, but she had come to love him again. She had reached for him without hesitation, held him without fear.
If he could experience those days once more ā
If he could repeat those moments, over and overā¦
Then erasing this world wouldnāt be so badā¦
It was then that his gaze met Ireneās. She didnāt remember him. She couldnāt. And yet ā
Her eyes were filled with sorrow. She looked at him as if she were staring at a pitiful man.
āWhy?ā
Not fear or hatred, but pity.
Slowly, Michael ran a trembling hand down his face. He hadnāt any wounds nor had he killed anyone, and yet his fingers came away slick with blood.
Drip. Drip.
Scarlet droplets slid from the strands of his hair, soaking his skin as though he had been caught in the rain. Not just his hands. Not just his hair. His entire body was drenched in blood.
A lake of red pooled at his feet, rippling outward, swallowing the ground beneath him.
Screams rang through the hall as people scrambled back.
Yet amid the panic, Irene did not move. She only stood there, watching him.
She had done the same before her death.
And even now, after waking in a world where she had forgotten everything, her gaze remained the same.
Her eyes were always filled with compassion for others.
The moment Michael saw that, he let go.
Let go of the thought, the desire, the temptation that had curled around his heart like a vice.
The Irene before him had no memory of him and every reason in the world to resent himābut had chosen to love him again in the end.
How could he possibly bring an end to a world where she existed?
No, he couldn’t, but he also couldn’t stay.
So Michael made his decision.
Splash.
The sound was sickening, wetāhis boots sinking into the crimson pool as he stepped towards Irene.
“Irene!”
Behind him, the other Michael surged forward, Holy Sword raised.
Splash. Splash.
He did not stop. He walked through the blood, his steps slow, deliberateāuntil at last, he stood before her.
Irene did not step back. She only looked up at him, those violet eyes brimming with something achingly gentle.
Those eyes that still did not remember him and yet pitied him were heart-breakingly lovely.
“Irene.”
Michael bowed his head. Then he reached out a blood-soaked hand and gently grasped hers in reverence.
It was the same hand that held the Infinite Healing Ring.
His blood-stained lips pressed against the ring, as if to leave a silent mark, proof that they had once been a pair.
Even after he was gone, this would remain. A small, insignificant piece of their brief and beautiful connection, resting against her skin.
In the end, no one would remember, not truly, but that would be enough for him.
For a fleeting moment, he had been happy.
So pleaseā¦
“May you be happy, too.”
The moment his words left himā
Thud!
The Holy Sword was driven into his chest. The other Michael stood behind him, blade buried deep, unwavering.
Michaelās lips, still pressed to her hand, trembled.
And then, he crumbled like ashes on the wind, gone before he even touched the ground.
The people stared at the empty space where āsomethingā had once stood.
And they all knew.
There was nothing wretched or sorrowful left in this world anymore.
At last, the perfect world was complete.
