Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 300
TL: Elphie / PR: Marm
After Count Rhodiam purchased her, she spent her days keeping her head down, always wary, waiting for the day she would finally be sold for a high enough price.
Then, the day she was evaluated as Grade 10, she was slapped. Kicked.
The count flew into a rage, screaming that he would sell her off to an old merchant. She had clung to him and begged for one last chance.
Just onceājust let her go to the Fortress.
Irene covered her mouth with her hands.
No. No, thatās not true. I was born a Grade 1 purifier.
I had a loving mother and father, and I was always surrounded by friendsā¦
Two versions of her past clashed violently inside her.
A life filled with nothing but sorrow. A life filled with nothing but happiness. Both memories screamed at her, demanding to be acknowledged as the truth.
Tears fell from Ireneās eyes once more.
Beside her, Chomp-chomp circled anxiously.
[I want to get us out of here, butā¦ Your memories keep pulling you back because they miss you, Your Majesty.]
At those words, Irene wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Then, she turned to Chomp-chomp and asked,
“How many more timesā¦ will I have to cross into different worlds like this?”
Chomp-chomp disappeared behind a picture frame. A moment later, it reappeared from behind a mirror.
It was holding something in its mouth.
Irene recognized it well. It was the Hand of Appraisal.
[This will tell us. I donāt really know those thingsā¦ Hey, hey! Wake up!]
Unlike when it was in the Fortress, the Hand of Appraisal was now semi-transparent.
It looked as if it might fade away at any moment.
But as Irene stared at it, its form gradually became clearer.
A moment later, the Hand twitched, as if it had regained awareness.
Then, it floated in circles around the room.
Finally, it moved to the dusty floor nearby and began writing numbers.
317.
[We still have that many left to cross?!]
Chomp-chomp recoiled in shock at the number the Hand of Appraisal had written.
The hand moved again, scrawling another message:
There were thousands more, but most have faded. Only these remain.
At that moment, Irene rose to her feet.
Then, she gave her command.
“Move to the next world.”
She clenched her fist.
“Until every last one of my memories returns.”
* * *
Once again, another world unfolded before her. By now, Irene was used to it. She glanced around, searching for Michael.
Every time she crossed into a new world, he was never far. If not his presence, then at least his traces remained.
And in every world she had seen, he was always drenched in blood.
At first, he had killed humans, too. But at some point, he had started killing only monsters.
As she followed his trail, Irene began piecing together the fragments of her lost memories.
In one world, she recovered the memory of their Contract Night, the way he had gazed at her.
In another, she recalled a night of fever, when she had been burning up from illness, shivering without anything to cover herself, curling up with her arms wrapped around her own body as she fell asleep.
Each time she crossed into a new world, the Hand of Appraisal became more solid, its form regaining clarity.
[Itās because the remnants of Your Majestyās power, which lingered in your memories, are vanishing. The restrictions are lifting.]
Then, in one particular world, Irene encountered Michael, sitting in silence, leaning against a rock.
It was a world without humans. Or perhaps, a world where they had once existed, but had already perished.
In that desolate place, Michael had lost both his eyes. Yet in his hands, he held something.
Irene stepped closer, peering at the object he refused to let go.
āThatāsā¦ā
Her breath caught. She looked down at her own hands in shock.
What he held in his hand was the ring of Infinite Healingāthe artifact that was still fitted on her own finger.
At that moment, Michael lifted his head.
Where his eyes had once been, only gruesome wounds remained.
There was no way he could see, yet he gazed directly at where she stood.
Then, despite his battered state, he smiled radiantly.
“I wonder if thatās you.”
ā……ā
Irene did not answer. She deliberately ignored him, but Michael didnāt seem to mind.
He simply continued speaking.
“This is an artifact called Infinite Healing. They say it enhances the wearerās purification power.”
A bitter smile flickered across his lips.
“If, someday, I am fortunate enough to meet you again while you are still aliveā¦”
He gently clenched the ring in his hand, as though making a solemn vow.
“I would like to give this to you.”
Battered by wounds, he smiled.
“Would that make you happy?”
At his words, Irene looked down at the ring on her finger.
The happiness he had eventually returned to her side to place upon her hand.
