Little Tyrant Doesn't Want to Meet with a Bad End

Chapter 581.1: I’ll Enjoy Every Last Morsel of It (1)

“It’s a letter from our master to the young miss?”

“Yes… He ordered for the letter… to be personally delivered… into the young miss’s hands.”

“Understood. Take a rest and drink up. You have worked hard.”

Grace first thanked the heavily breathing messenger, who had rushed all the way here to deliver an emergency message from the frontlines to the fortress, before leaving under the heated gaze of the soldiers.

She let out a quiet sigh as she thought about the events that had transpired over the past six months.

The increased pressure from the deviants on humankind’s frontlines had prompted the united army to rally reinforcements. Rosa, as one of the larger countries, was obliged to respond to the rally.

The Sorofyas’ patriarch, Bruce Sorofya, made a shocking decision. He dispatched Charlotte, who had been managing Rosa’s administration and the united army’s logistical operations, to the frontlines as a commander to participate in the battle.

This was where it all began.

News about the renowned Charlotte Sorofya joining the frontlines greatly inspired the people, motivating countless to join the army. Brolne’s students also rallied together for the cause, which helped the united army’s call for reinforcement to end with a resounding success.

But things weren’t as simple as they seemed.

It might have seemed that Bruce had ordered Charlotte to join the frontlines to serve as a role model to the others, but the truth was that he had no choice but to do so. Grace, who had been by Charlotte’s side all this while, knew that better than anyone else.

Grace had to walk past a long corridor before reaching the entrance of the fortress’s inner city. The guards on duty respectfully greeted her with lowered heads.

“It’s Miss Grace! Open the city gates!” the gate commander ordered.

“Thank you, Commander Torde.”

“Not at all. General, we are indebted to you for speaking up for us on the battlefield, or else the first miss would have…”

“We’re not on the battlefield right now. Call me by my name instead. Also, I should remind you that the matter with the first miss was only an accident,” Grace said with a hint of displeasure.

“Pardon me; I have misspoken. Please do not mind it,” the gate commander apologized.

Grace cooled down a little after receiving the swift and sincere apology. Under the guards’ salutes, she entered the inner city.

Charlotte and Grace were currently the highest commanders of Chade Fortress and generals of the united army. While they were young compared to the other military veterans, there was not a person who objected to their appointment, for they were both Origin Level 2 transcendents.

Despite their similar positions, the airs that they gave off were vastly different.

Grace had a cold attitude, but she was well-loved by the soldiers. As for Charlotte, the soldiers only harbored deference for her. This was completely unlike what others had expected when they learned that Charlotte was being deployed to Chade Fortress.

“The young miss should be awake by now,” Grace murmured under her breath as she glanced at the afternoon sky.

She quickly made her way up the stairs and stopped before the doors of the command center. She glanced at the two guards stationed there.

“Lord Grace, Miss Charlotte is not here,” one of the guards told her.

“…Understood.” Grace nodded grimly before venturing deeper into the inner city.

She could already guess her young miss’s condition from how the latter wasn’t in the command center even though it was already in the afternoon. Her face clouded over as she let out a sigh.

She hastened her footsteps toward Charlotte’s room. She first dismissed the maids stationed by the doorway before gently pushing the door. A strong alcohol smell wafted out of the room. Several uncorked wine bottles of different colors were lying haphazardly on the ground.

“…”

Grace closed the door behind her before glancing at the renowned wines left all over the ground from the doorway. She let out another worried sigh. Too much had changed over the past year. She would have never imagined that her most beloved young miss would end up like this.

Bards often sang cautionary tales of how love led to destruction, and Charlotte’s current state reflected that well.

The Fallens’ assault on the Ascart Fiefdom a year ago was the turning point in Charlotte’s life. Before then, she was thought to be the personification of a perfect lady—dignified, lofty, gentle, and kind. The beauty of love made her shine brighter than her peers; there was just something about her that drew others in.

No one could have known that the girl who grew up because of love would be destroyed by love too.

In the attack on the Ascart Fiefdom that led to Roel’s disappearance a year ago, Charlotte had received an urgent request for reinforcement but failed to make it in time. While later evidence showed that her arrival wouldn’t have changed much, she was still unable to forgive herself. She reproached herself for being unable to help her lover.

Had that been the full extent of her worries, she could have still barely held herself together till Roel’s return. However, she received news from the Knight Kingdom that he had entered the Witness State. Having been to the Witness State herself, she knew that every second that passed without his return spelled a greater chance that something might have happened to him.

The lack of news with the passing of time was simultaneously a ray of hope and a ticking bomb of despair. She knew that she had to give up at some point in time, but how could she when the world refused to take away that final sliver of hope?

It started off with nightmares, followed by bouts of anxiety, then a lack of appetite. Half a year ago, when most parties stopped their search for Roel after declaring that his chances of survival were slim, her mental state rapidly declined. She even started displaying suicidal tendencies.

The worried Bruce immediately ordered Charlotte to undergo treatment, but she was so stuck in the rut that no counseling worked on her. Even Master Andrew was unable to soothe her pain.

To stop her from killing herself, the Sorofyas had no choice but to imprison her, but that was not a long-term plan. After much discussion, Bruce decided to dispatch her to the frontlines in hopes of using another impetus to jolt her dead heart.

Hatred.

Roel’s death had not just plunged Charlotte into grief; it had also planted a seed of hatred in her heart. She hated the Savior’s worshipers who attacked the Ascart Fiefdom, and she also hated Shrouding Fog for cornering him. The deviants happened to fall in the former category.

Bruce thought that stoking her hatred could at least breathe some life into her, and killing her enemies could be an avenue for her to vent her emotions. It was a gamble since it was hard to say how things would turn out, but it appeared to be the right choice.

Charlotte’s ailment had greatly improved upon her arrival at the frontlines. The sight of the culprits who took her lover away from her ignited her wrath, and her hatred became her pillar of support. She unleashed her full potential through an endless stream of fights on the battlefield, reaching Origin Level 2 within a single year.

She became one of humankind’s rising stars on the eastern border.

However, this also brought about its own set of problems. For instance, Charlotte tended to charge right into the middle of the battlefield without paying any heed to her soldiers’ pacing. The only one who could really keep up with her and stop her from diving too deeply into danger was Grace. It was for that reason that the soldiers exceptionally respected Grace.

Other than that, she had also become an alcoholic.

While Charlotte’s suicidal tendencies faded upon arriving at the frontlines, her desire to avenge her lover ironically reinforced her attachment to the past. Whenever they were off the battlefield, Grace would often spot her staring at her ring with a pained expression.

The only way for her to curb her sorrow was to numb herself through alcohol.

Grace knew that this wasn’t a good solution and was opposed to it, but there was nothing she could do to help her. How could one help someone whose world had already crumbled?

Grace stood quietly by the doorway for a moment before lightly knocking on the door behind her. It was only upon receiving Charlotte’s response that she finally made her way into the room.

“Morning, young miss.”

“…Mm.”

Grace drew the heavy curtains, allowing the bright afternoon sunlight to spill in. The opened windows allowed air to circulate in the stuffy room, diffusing the strong alcohol smell lingering inside. Patches of spilled wine on the floor glimmered under the sunlight.

Charlotte sat on the bed, not saying a word at all.

Her complexion was much paler compared to a year ago, and she was skinnier too. She was still beautiful, but it was a sickly kind of beauty compared to her dignified and elegant past self, reminiscent of the frail princesses depicted in stories. It was an appearance that stoked one’s desire to protect.

Her emerald eyes were cold and distant, devoid of any warmth at all. Grace felt a jolt of pain in her chest each time she saw these eyes.

“Young miss, your breakfast…”

“I have no appetite,” Charlotte replied nonchalantly.

“…”

Grace’s expression darkened.

Charlotte had hardly consumed anything for months other than the alcohol that numbed her nerves. If not for her transcendent body nourishing her through absorbing mana, she would have been dead by now.

Grace’s responsibility as Charlotte’s personal maid was to attend to her every need, but the latter had already lost all interest in life. All that was left in her was deep sorrow and a desire for vengeance.

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