The World After the Bad Ending - Chapter 170

During the journey back, we took a brief rest.

Facing Isabel, I wore an utterly bewildered expression.

And for good reason—Isabel had just said something completely unexpected.

"To protect the Niflheim Count’s family, I attacked the Third Princess."

What kind of insane nonsense was this?

In the past, Vicanne had ambushed Lucas, who had entered the Demon Palace alongside the Third Princess.

Isabel must have been referring to that incident.

But why on earth had she misunderstood things this way?

The answer came more easily than expected.

As mentioned before, the Niflheim family had long maintained close ties with the Duchy of Lobliah.

This was evident from Jenia’s reaction.

A relationship between families, deeply entangled over time.

And with time, naturally, multiple interests had become intertwined.

From territorial enterprises to personal connections—everything was knotted together.

It was a bond that couldn’t be recklessly severed.

Even if one tried to cut it cleanly, it would cost them their own flesh.

Such was the relationship between the Niflheim Count’s family and the Duchy of Lobliah.

Thus, it was only natural for Niflheim to support the Third Princess as well.

"And then, someone bearing the Niflheim name attacked the Third Princess."

The Niflheim Count’s family could not afford to fall out of favor with the Third Princess’s faction.

They couldn’t possibly cut off their own lifeline.

In the end, the Niflheim Count’s family had no choice but to dismiss their eldest son.

And the one who was dismissed—was me.

Vicanne Niflheim.

So, what was the meaning behind this dismissal?

The answer could be found in the Niflheim family’s subsequent actions.

With even the eldest son cast aside, they had to present a new successor to restore their image.

And the one they chose was Jenia Niflheim.

A wielder of holy magic, rumored to carry the blood of Zelion.

A figure with no shortcomings to replace the eldest son in the Niflheim Count’s family.

With the eldest son gone, power naturally concentrated in Jenia’s hands.

Despite her young age, Jenia had somehow already amassed immense authority within the Niflheim family.

Moreover, Jenia wielded holy magic.

The Niflheim Count had no choice but to cherish her all the more.

The authority granted to her had reached the point where Jenia could single-handedly steer the Count’s family.

Even if she herself never exercised it.

Jenia had already become the face of the Niflheim Count’s family.

To the point where some might not know the Niflheim Count’s name but would recognize Jenia’s.

And now, with the news of her contribution in capturing the Mysticism Faction spreading, her influence within the family would only grow stronger.

At this very moment, Jenia had just learned a critical piece of information.

That the Third Princess, Iris Hysrion, was the vessel of the Evil God.

And of course, the Duchy of Lobliah had to be involved in this.

What choice would Jenia make now?

The answer wasn’t hard to guess.

Aligning with the Evil God meant making an enemy of the entire world.

Knowing this, Jenia would undoubtedly sever the Niflheim Count’s family from Lobliah.

She would protect the family in place of the Niflheim Count, who, blinded by power and status, could no longer make sound judgments.

That was the duty entrusted to Jenia.

At least, that was what Isabel believed.

"...Even though you were abandoned by your own family, you still tried to protect them?"

For a moment, I was too stunned to speak.

This was nothing more than a coincidence—a series of events that happened to align.

Of course, none of this had been my intention.

Even if the original Vicanne had such motives, I certainly didn’t.

My gaze drifted to the carriage.

What would happen if Jenia discovered my true identity and misunderstood me the same way Isabel had?

Suddenly, the future felt terrifying.

I’d rather be cursed at than falsely praised—it would sit easier on my conscience.

But Isabel seemed to take my silence as confirmation.

She let out a long sigh.

"But in the end, you weren’t even there. Then and now, why are you so self-sacrificing?"

Though her words were critical, the warmth in her eyes as she looked at me was unmistakable.

It struck me then just how much Isabel’s opinion of me had risen over time.

Even if that heightened regard had now led to this absurd misunderstanding.

"Now that I think about it, it was strange. No matter what, I couldn’t imagine you recklessly attacking the Third Princess and Lucas."

Just how high was Isabel’s estimation of me?

From a childhood friend who used to insult me to someone who’d achieved an incredible rise in status.

"Maybe it’s because I’ve always acted with clear intent in front of her."

It seemed she believed I moved with deliberate purpose in everything.

The problem was, this time, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

"How do I even explain this?"

My expression twisted in frustration.

The me back then wasn’t Vicanne.

At that time, Vicanne had simply been a man blinded by love.

"Even if he did have such intentions..."

There was no way for me to confirm it.

Vicanne was no longer in this world.

The emptiness I’d felt in the realm of souls was proof of that.

Still, I felt I should at least correct one of her misunderstandings.

"Isabel, the reason I attacked Lucas was because of Nikita."

Back then, Vicanne had loved Nikita.

Even if I no longer had emotions, I didn’t want to deny the feelings Vicanne had once held.

Isabel seemed to sense my sincerity and silently studied me.

"Even if the Third Princess was involved, at the very least, what I did to Lucas was an act of venting."

To deny this would be to deny Vicanne himself.

So, I conveyed the truth as it was.

"......"

Isabel fell silent for a moment.

Had I disappointed her?

If so, all I could do was apologize.

"Is Nikita... unharmed?"

Come to think of it, I’d never told Isabel about Nikita.

She’d assumed I’d led the boycott group because of Nikita’s death.

Even now, she had no way of knowing whether Nikita was alive or not.

"Yes, she’s fine."

Nikita had even left me with the words, "See you next year."

With everything that had happened recently, I found myself missing her a little.

The time I’d spent working alongside her in the student council had been incredibly comforting.

"Then... do you still like Nikita?"

Isabel knew I’d lost my capacity for love.

Yet, faced with her question about whether I still liked Nikita, I could only blink in surprise.

Do I like Nikita?

Simply put, yes, I could say I liked her.

Even if love had faded, the fact remained that I’d once cherished Nikita as a character.

But that affection had been nothing more than that of a devoted fan.

Now that love was gone, I wasn’t sure what I felt anymore.

"Vicanne loved Nikita."

Just as I had found solace in Nikita, so had Vicanne.

Vicanne’s love had been genuine.

"I don’t know."

So, this was all I could say.

"If I ever regain my capacity for love, maybe I’ll find out."

Thinking of Nikita made me feel nostalgic.

Separate from emotions, it was proof that she was someone precious to me.

"I see."

Isabel exhaled softly, then lifted her head.

A smile as bright as the sun spread across her lips.

"Then, I’ll make sure you regain every emotion you’ve lost."

Before I knew it, Isabel had stepped closer to me.

The citrusy scent of her perfume enveloped me.

"If you lose sadness, I’ll teach you the sorrow you’ve forgotten—because of you."

The day she lost her brother and Lucas.

That was when she learned what it meant for the world to crumble.

For her, sorrow was a scar that still ran deep.

And so, teaching sadness would be the easiest thing in the world.

"If you lose anger, I’ll show you the rage I reclaimed—because of you."

The seething fury she’d felt watching me insult Lucas.

Isabel still remembered that anger vividly.

And that anger had been the driving force that gave her life back.

No one understood the value of rage better than she did.

"If you lose love, I’ll teach you the love I came to know—because of you."

Finally—

When I heard her next words, my eyes widened.

Isabel’s face was flushed redder than before.

Her crimson cheeks weren’t just from the sunset’s glow.

The emotions she carried were written plainly on her face.

She smiled brightly.

A smile as radiant as the sun—irreplaceable and beautiful.

Isabel Luna.

The flower that represented her was the sunflower.

A bloom that turns its face only toward the sun.

Perhaps sunflowers gaze at the sun because they, too, wish to become one.

And so, in this moment, Isabel became the sun herself.

Not chasing after someone else’s light, but shining brilliantly as her own star.

That was the true form of the main heroine—Isabel Luna.

"I like you."

Isabel confessed the feelings she’d held all this time.

"More than anything else in the world."

Her overflowing emotions were palpable.

"So, on the day you regain your emotions—"

Before I realized it, she was right in front of me.

I could only stare blankly, unable to look away.

"I’ll confess again. And you’ll answer me."

Isabel’s lips met mine.

The softest sensation I’d ever felt left me dizzy.

When she pulled away, her face was flushed with embarrassment, yet she smiled.

Even as the sunset faded, Isabel shone brighter than anyone.

"I hope... just a little of this reached you."

The love of a sunflower that had become the sun was overwhelming.