From Emily's Perspective
I was the one who demanded the duel.
With all the pride and certainty I possessed, I stood before him in the training arena, offering a single condition: "If you lose, you stay out of my life forever." I said it coldly—not just out of anger, but out of a deep conviction that nothing good could ever come from his presence in my world. I never imagined those words would come back to haunt me.
I knew I was stronger. My arrogance wasn't baseless. I was a skilled swordswoman, fast as lightning, precise as a blade striking its mark. No one could rival me once I channeled my mana into my movements. And the moment the duel began, I moved like a feather on the wind—light, swift, relentless. I attacked from every angle, my mana dancing around me like sacred fire.
Dust swirled in the air, veiling the battlefield. Anyone watching would have believed the duel was already decided.
So did I.
I smiled inwardly, imagining his figure collapsing in defeat. But as the dust cleared... there was no fall. No injury. Not even a single drop of blood.
He stood there.
Silent.
Staring at me with eyes that glowed an eerie gold, as if they weren't part of this world. He looked at me without anger, without pain, not even with contempt—just... emptiness. A vast, soul-crushing emptiness that reminded me of a sky stripped of stars.
A chill crawled down my spine.
This wasn't the Felix I knew. Not the arrogant, careless man I used to mock openly and secretly alike. The figure standing before me was something else. Something entirely different.
Then he moved.
Slowly. Terrifyingly slowly. As if the air itself parted for him. I tried to raise my sword, tried to summon my mana again, but... I couldn't. My body wouldn't respond.
He stepped closer—one step, then another—until he stood before me. But he didn't strike.
He simply reached out, gently placed his finger against my forehead... and tears rolled down his cheeks.
His tears were warm, quiet, falling softly onto my face.
And something inside me shattered.
How? Why? What had changed? Who was this man? How had he defeated me without lifting a weapon?
The duel was over.
But what ignited within me was only beginning.
He walked away without a word. No glance back. No pride. No triumph. As if the duel never mattered to him in the first place. As if I never did.
For the first time, I didn't just feel defeated—I felt confused. Torn. A strange guilt clung to my chest.
I couldn't let it end there. I chased after him, heart pounding—not from the battle, but from the storm of questions building inside me. He was still ahead of me, just ten steps away, when he disappeared into the physician's chamber.
I stopped just outside the door.
And listened.
His voice was quiet, heavy with sorrow. He spoke of things I didn't quite understand—vague memories, deep regrets. And the physician... she clearly knew more than she let on. She understood what had happened to him, how he had changed.
When he left the room, I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.
I stood before her and met her eyes.
"I'm his fiancée," I said, almost uncertain of what that title even meant anymore. "I need to understand. What happened to him? How did he change like this? He's become... gentle-hearted, wise, strange—yet noble."
She studied me for a moment, then offered a soft, knowing smile.
"My dear," she said, "Felix has changed because he's grown. Because something happened to him—something deep. Something that forced him to see the world through new eyes. That's what pain does sometimes... it plants wisdom where only arrogance once grew."
She paused, then added,
"I was like you, once. I thought he was foolish. Worthless, even. But I was wrong. Now? I see who he truly is. Kind-hearted. Pure. A genius, especially in the sciences. Maybe it was the coma. Maybe something else. Only time can answer that."
I sank into the nearest chair, feeling the weight of her words settle over me like a storm cloud.
Had I been so blind? So cruel? So quick to judge? Perhaps. Or perhaps I had simply been afraid—afraid to see something in Felix that challenged my own pride.
I looked back at her and whispered,
"Do you think he'll ever forgive me? For the mocking, the coldness, the... things I said?"
She gave me a small smile.
"He has a good heart. If you show him you're sincere, I believe he will."
I nodded quietly.
I didn't know how to begin, but I knew I had to try.
I would spend time observing him—no longer as a fiancée, but as someone who simply wanted to understand. I wanted to know who this new Felix was, the one who had risen from the ashes, cloaked in quiet strength and sorrow.
He may not be the same man he once was.
And maybe... I wasn't the same woman either.
But something new was born in me today.
Perhaps this is where I begin to understand.