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{3rd Pov}
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{3rd Pov}
Duchess Karsten sat behind her desk in her office, carefully reviewing the latest reports spread out before her.
Her attention was focused on documents detailing the state of the armory and the number of soldiers currently being prepared for the upcoming battle against the White Whale.
Each page was examined thoroughly, her expression serious and composed as she worked through the information.
Inside the room, only Felix and Wilhelm van Astrea were present alongside her.
Felix was seated nearby, his posture relaxed, looking half-awake as if he were on the verge of dozing off.
Wilhelm, on the other hand, remained upright and attentive, quietly going through his own set of files.
Outside the closed door, two soldiers stood guard, ensuring that no one disturbed their work.
For the moment, everything seemed completely normal.
Then, without warning, something changed.
Duchess Karsten's eyes suddenly went blank, losing all focus.
Her hands stopped moving entirely, freezing in place over the documents.
The sharp, authoritative expression she always carried vanished, replaced by an empty stillness as if her thoughts had abruptly ceased.
A second later, she began blinking rapidly, her eyes moving again as though she were struggling to regain awareness.
Confusion flickered across her face, her brows knitting together as she tried to process whatever had just occurred.
Then she gasped sharply.
The sudden sound immediately drew attention.
Felix jerked slightly, snapping out of his drowsiness, while Wilhelm lifted his gaze from the files he had been reviewing.
Both of them turned toward her at once, concern and curiosity evident as they focused on the Duchess, sensing that something was very wrong.
She suddenly jolted upright from her chair, the movement abrupt and violent.
Her eyes darted wildly around the room, unfocused and frantic, as shock and confusion washed over her expression.
Her breathing quickened, and panic set in almost immediately, her body tensing as if she had awakened in an unfamiliar and hostile place.
"~Nyah! Crusch-sama, what happened to you? Is everything alright? Why are you so panicky?" Felix exclaimed in alarm.
He rushed to her side without hesitation and reached out to grab her shoulder, trying to steady her and bring her back to her senses.
The moment his hand touched her, she reacted.
She violently jerked away from him, knocking his hand aside as she sprang to her feet.
In one smooth, practiced motion, she unsheathed her weapon and pointed it directly at Felix.
Her eyes were filled with raw bloodlust, sharp and dangerous, as if she were ready to strike without a second thought.
"What kind of game is this?" she demanded harshly.
"Who are you?"
The atmosphere in the room instantly turned lethal.
Wilhelm sensed the danger the moment her killing intent surged.
Moving with inhuman speed despite his age, he stepped in from behind her, grabbing her arms firmly before she could act.
With precise and controlled force, he disarmed her, twisting the weapon from her grasp, and swiftly forced her down onto the floor.
"Crusch-sama, calm down!" Wilhelm shouted urgently as he restrained her, struggling to keep her from breaking free.
"It's us! Wilhelm van Astrea and Felix Argyle!"
He tightened his hold just enough to immobilize her without causing harm, his voice firm but filled with concern.
"Sir Felix," Wilhelm continued sharply, "quickly check her for any curses or the effects of hallucination magic!"
As he spoke, he focused entirely on maintaining control, making sure she could not escape his grasp while the situation was assessed.
"Meowyh is on it!" Felix said quickly as he focused on her condition.
Despite her resistance, he began carefully examining Crusch while activating his healing magic.
A soft glow surrounded his hands as he worked, attempting to stabilize her both physically and mentally.
Crusch continued to struggle fiercely at first, her body tense and uncooperative, until her movements slowly began to falter.
As Felix worked, she finally managed to focus her vision, her eyes settling clearly on the face of the person kneeling beside her.
"F–Felix?" she muttered softly.
The name slipped from her lips in disbelief, as though she were forcing herself to remember someone from a distant past.
Her expression shifted, confusion mixing with shock, as fragments of memory struggled to surface.
Felix froze for just a fraction of a second, startled by the way she spoke his name.
Her gaze then shifted upward, catching sight of another familiar figure from the corner of her eye.
She slowly looked toward him and found herself staring at the aged face of Wilhelm van Astrea looming above her.
The sight alone made her breath hitch.
He was alive.
That realization struck her deeply, her eyes widening in shock as she took in his presence.
The fact that he stood there, very much alive and real, only added to the growing sense that something was terribly wrong.
As Felix continued channeling his magic, her chaotic emotions were forcibly calmed.
The panic and bloodlust that had overtaken her moments ago were steadily suppressed, replaced by a fragile, uneasy clarity.
Her breathing slowed, and the tension in her body began to ease.
As her awareness sharpened, she glanced downward and noticed that one of her hands was still firmly restrained in Wilhelm's grasp.
Her eyes widened once more—not from fear, but from realization.
The skin of her hand was smooth.
Healthy, Unscarred and very much Youthful.
It was unmistakably not the wrinkled, aged hand it should have been.
The sight of it sent a fresh wave of shock through her as the truth began to dawn on her, piece by piece.
As Felix continued applying his healing magic, Crusch finally gained enough clarity to properly think about what was happening to her.
With her panic dulled and her movements restrained, her thoughts began to organize themselves.
'Felix is alive… and so is Sir Wilhelm,' she thought carefully.
'His healing magic feels exactly the same as I remember, even though I had almost forgotten the sensation over the years.'
Her gaze briefly shifted toward Wilhelm again, and the way he had disarmed her replayed in her mind.
That technique, she continued internally, the speed, the precision… there is no doubt about it.
'He is truly Sir Wilhelm.'
Yet, as those certainties settled, new questions began to surface one after another, refusing to be ignored.
'How are they alive?'
'Why are they alive?'
Those questions echoed relentlessly in her mind.
Then her attention returned to her own body.
She became acutely aware of the strength coursing through her limbs—strength she had long since lost after decades of living.
Combined with the youthful skin she had just seen, the answer she had been avoiding suddenly formed with alarming clarity.
'A… have I returned to the past?'. she thought in disbelief.
The realization made her stop struggling entirely.
Her body went still beneath Wilhelm's hold as she tried to process the weight of that conclusion.
"Meowyh can't sense any curses and has been healing her!" Felix announced confidently as he finished his assessment.
"She should be fine!"
Hearing those words, Wilhelm's eyes widened in shock.
For a brief moment, relief flickered across his face—only to be replaced by concern.
His brow furrowed deeply as he considered another possibility.
"Then… is someone attempting to use hallucination magic on her?" he asked gravely, his voice heavy with suspicion.
However, before either of them could discuss the situation any further, she spoke again.
"Unhand me," she ordered firmly.
"Sir Wilhelm, Felix—leave me."
Her voice carried the same familiar commanding authority they had both obeyed countless times before.
The moment they heard that tone, both men paused, exchanging brief, uncertain glances.
After a moment of hesitation, they complied and stepped away from her, giving her the space she demanded.
Crusch rose to her feet, her movements steady despite everything that had just occurred.
She brushed the dust from her clothes with deliberate motions, as if grounding herself in the physical reality of the moment.
Once she was standing properly, her eyes began scanning the room with intent, searching for something specific.
A mirror.
She spotted one nearby and approached it carefully, each step measured, as though she were bracing herself for what she might see.
When she finally stood before it and looked at her reflection, her breath caught in her throat.
Shock flooded her expression.
The long, ugly scar that had once run down her cheek was gone.
She was no longer older.
The signs of age and exhaustion that had marked her face for so many years had vanished completely.
Staring back at her was the face she had possessed before everything had fallen apart—before the battle with the White Whale, before the sacrifices and losses that had shaped her later life.
Her reflection was youthful, unscarred, and filled with the same strength and presence she remembered.
She had truly returned.
'I–I am truly back in the past,' she thought in shock.
The realization felt unreal, and no matter how many times she repeated it to herself, she still couldn't fully accept it.
A part of her outright refused to believe it.
She took an unsteady step backward, nearly stumbling as her breath hitched.
'Impossible,' her thoughts screamed.
'How can I be in the past?'
'Why am I in the past?!'
Her expression twisted, anger and disbelief mixing together as her emotions surged violently within her.
The questions burned in her mind, demanding answers that simply did not exist.
Since her childhood, she had lived a life defined by majesty and nobility.
She had been raised with pride, discipline, and the certainty that she would walk a path of honor.
That belief had guided her for decades—until everything changed.
It all began the moment she denied Natsuki Subaru when he came to her, desperately seeking help to save Arlam village.
After turning him away, she had chosen to move forward with a different goal—one tied to a promise she had made to Wilhelm and her desire to elevate the reputation of her camp.
That goal had been clear.
To slay the White Whale.
She had believed she was ready.
She had believed her strength, her strategy, and her forces would be enough.
In truth, she had severely overestimated herself and disastrously underestimated the White Whale.
The result had been absolute defeat.
They lost.
Every soldier who had marched with her that day had died.
Every companion who had trusted her had fallen.
The battlefield had been soaked in blood and despair, and by the end of it all, only she remained alive.
And even that survival had come at a terrible cost.
Felix had sacrificed himself for her.
After that disastrous defeat, when dawn finally arrived and the White Whale vanished along with the dragon mist, she found herself completely alone.
The battlefield was silent, littered with the remains of those who had followed her.
She was bruised, wounded, and utterly defeated, standing among the aftermath of her own failure.
Guilt consumed her.
Shame weighed heavily on her chest.
And the pain of loss was unbearable.
With no one left beside her, she began walking back toward the Capital.
Each step felt heavier than the last, her body exhausted and her mind barely holding together.
She had no clear goal beyond simply moving forward.
That was when she encountered them.
Two Sin Archbishops stood in her path.
What followed was nothing short of a nightmare.
One of them struck her viciously, the blow tearing across her face.
Her eye was destroyed, blood pouring freely as her flesh was torn apart, leaving behind scars so severe that her once dignified face became horrifying to look at.
Before she could even recover from that agony, the other Archbishop acted.
He devoured her name.
In an instant, she was erased from the memories of the world.
When she finally reached the Capital, she was barely standing.
She was bleeding heavily, her body battered, her mind exhausted, and her heart completely devoid of hope.
Even so, she forced herself toward her mansion, clinging to the belief that at least it would offer her shelter.
She was wrong.
No one recognized her.
The guards, the servants—none of them remembered who she was.
To them, she was nothing more than a filthy rat from the slums, some injured stranger trying to trespass where she did not belong.
They blocked her path, insulted her, and drove her away without hesitation, refusing to let her enter the place that had once been her home.
When she began shouting orders and demanding answers, loudly declaring that she was the Duchess of the estate, the guards did not respond with confusion or doubt.
Instead, they looked at her with open disgust.
To them, her words were nothing more than the delusions of a madwoman.
One of them grabbed her roughly by the scalp, fingers digging painfully into her hair, and dragged her away from the front entrance.
They pulled her into a narrow alley to the side, far from the eyes of passersby.
Before she could even react, the beating began.
They kicked her relentlessly.
Fists and boots struck her again and again, without restraint or mercy.
She was beaten until she collapsed, left bloodied and broken on the ground, unable to even raise her arms to protect herself.
No one intervened.
No one cared.
That day, she lost everything.
She lost her dignity.
She lost her pride and bravado.
And most of all, she lost her will to live.
Later, she was rescued by Natsuki Subaru.
It was him who found her in that ruined state and brought her away from the alley.
In time, she would come to call him her Lord—and eventually, her Husband.
Through painful realization, she learned a terrifying truth: only Natsuki Subaru remembered her.
No matter where she went or whom she spoke to, he was the sole person who still knew who she was.
Even so, he refused to speak with her.
Whenever she tried to approach him, he would only look at her with pity, his expression heavy and distant, before turning away and leaving the room without a word.
That silent rejection hurt more than any beating she had endured.
She eventually learned that she was in the Astrea mansion.
It was there that she discovered the full extent of the tragedy that had unfolded.
The Emilia camp had been completely destroyed by the Sin Archbishop of Sloth.
Everyone had been killed.
He had been the only one who survived.
Despite everything she had done to him—despite how she had humiliated him, rejected him outright, and trampled over his desperation—he still could not bring himself to leave her to die in a filthy ditch.
Even if he hated her for it, even if resentment burned inside him, he picked her up anyway and carried her back to the Astrea mansion with his own hands.
That alone should have been enough to shame her.
When she had healed somewhat, when her wounds were no longer life-threatening, her true nature had surfaced once again.
She had spoken harshly, arrogantly, and demanded that Natsuki Subaru help her, as if she still had the right to command him.
That was when he slapped her.
The sound had echoed sharply through the room.
His expression was cold, and when he spoke, venom dripped from every word. T
here was no hesitation in his actions, no restraint in his tone.
It was the first time she had ever been struck like that—not by an enemy, but by someone she had wronged beyond measure.
That moment broke something inside her.
She finally saw herself clearly.
If losing everything after that beating outside the mansion had stripped her of her dignity, then this moment destroyed what little self-respect she had left.
She understood, painfully and unmistakably, what kind of woman she truly was.
Later, after much silence and tension, they reached an agreement.
They would help each other.
Together, they would take revenge on the Witch Cult and the White Whale.
They would destroy the forces that had ruined both of their lives.
But the condition was absolute and non-negotiable.
Crusch would follow Subaru's commands.
And she did.
Without protest, without pride, and without hesitation, she obeyed him—because she knew she no longer had the right to do anything else.
After that, the rest became history.
Their initial relationship was anything but healthy.
It was filled with grief, unresolved anger, and deep-rooted shame on her part.
There was no warmth between them at first, no trust, and certainly no affection.
Every interaction was heavy, weighed down by everything they had lost and everything they still carried with them.
Yet, slowly, things began to change.
Step by step, they started achieving what should have been impossible.
One miracle followed another, each more unbelievable than the last.
With nothing more than hired mercenaries, aging soldiers, and people who were willing to fight despite knowing the odds, they managed to do what entire factions had failed to accomplish.
They killed the White Whale.
It wasn't through overwhelming strength or noble armies, but through strategy, sacrifice, and relentless planning—everything orchestrated under the command of Natsuki Subaru.
That wasn't the end.
Under his direction, they went on to eliminate the Sin Archbishop of Sloth.
After that came Greed.
Then Gluttony.
Each victory pushed them further, cementing Subaru's role as the one giving orders, making decisions, and leading them forward without hesitation.
All of it happened under Natsuki Subaru's command.
Before she even realized it, she had begun relying on him completely.
His presence became something she needed, something she unconsciously leaned on.
Somewhere along that path—amid battles, losses, and shared survival—her feelings changed.
She became dependent on him.
And without noticing when it happened, she fell in love with him.
However, their love story was never simple, nor was it gentle.
Subaru hated her.
He had always hated her, and that hatred never truly disappeared, no matter how much time passed.
Knowing this, she was the one who stepped forward first, deliberately choosing to seduce him and push herself into his life in the most reckless way possible.
What followed was not romance.
It was brutal, ugly, and filled with unresolved resentment.
What happened between them was something that could not be called love, and it could not be justified.
It crossed a line, becoming an act born from anger, bitterness, and mutual damage rather than consent or affection.
Their sex was brutal, with it nothing being short of rape for a woman.
Even so, she endured it—physically and emotionally—because at that time, she believed she deserved nothing better.
She told herself to endure.
And she did.
Over time, something inside her changed in a way she herself could not fully explain.
What had begun as suffering slowly twisted into something she accepted, then something she clung to.
She hated herself for it, yet she could not deny it.
The relationship continued in that broken state, sustained by shared pain rather than trust.
Eventually, Subaru broke first.
One day, after everything they had done to each other, he asked for her forgiveness.
His voice carried exhaustion instead of hatred, and regret instead of rage.
He admitted that the way he had treated her was wrong, no matter how much he despised her at the time.
Her response surprised him.
She smiled softly and told him that she wanted him to hate her.
She wanted him to hate her for the rest of his life, so that she would never forget what kind of woman she had once been.
She wanted that hatred to remain as a reminder, a punishment she believed she deserved.
Their love was never healthy.
It was never gentle or ideal, and it was certainly not something beautiful or pure.
But in the end, despite everything, she came to love that man more than anything else in her life.
To her, he became everything.
He was her Lord.
He was her master.
And above all else, he was her Husband.
His love and his hatred—she accepted all of it, just as he had ultimately accepted all of her.
Neither of them tried to pretend that what they shared was pure or kind.
It was flawed, heavy, and shaped by pain, but it was real to them.
And after everything they endured together, the rest truly became history.
Now, after spending decades at his side, after living an entire lifetime with him, and after dying on his deathbed—having lost all will to continue living once he had passed—she found herself back here.
Back at the point in time when she was still a Duchess.
Not his wife.
Not his companion.
Not the woman who belonged beside him.
She was once again Duchess Karsten, one of the Royal Candidates participating in the Royal Selection.
And she hated it.
She despised this position, this title, and everything that came with it.
The authority, the expectations, the political games—all of it felt hollow and meaningless now.
There was only one thing that Duchess Karsten had ever truly existed for, and that was Natsuki Subaru.
He was the sole reason she had continued living back then.
In truth, Duchess Karsten had already died the moment her name was erased from the world.
That version of her had never truly returned.
What remained was not a ruler or a noble, but a woman who had found her purpose in walking beside him.
Now, standing once more at the beginning, only that woman still existed—the one who had been his companion, and nothing else.
Wilhelm van Astrea and Felix watched in silence as their Duchess stood there, her expression shifting repeatedly.
Her face contorted subtly, tension visible in the way her jaw tightened and her brows drew together, as if she were fighting an internal battle neither of them could see.
After a moment, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain composure.
"W–Wilhelm," she finally spoke.
The name left her mouth with hesitation, as though it felt far more unfamiliar to her than she wanted to admit.
Even saying it seemed to require effort.
"Yes, Duchess?" Wilhelm replied immediately.
His posture remained alert, his eyes carefully observing her every movement, searching for anything suspicious or out of place.
"I–It seems," she continued slowly, choosing her words with care, "that my memories are… jumbled."
The statement was a lie—one she delivered flawlessly, without even a flicker of hesitation.
Thankfully, she alone possessed the ability to sense falsehoods, and no one else in the room had the means to detect it.
To Wilhelm and Felix, her words sounded entirely plausible.
Even so, the unease in the air did not disappear.
"How the hell could that happen?!" Felix exclaimed in shock.
"Meowyh already checked Crusch-sama for any curses!"
Horror crept across his face as panic set in.
Without thinking, he stepped forward again, instinctively preparing to examine her once more and confirm his findings.
Before he could touch her, she stopped him.
"Don't touch me."
The words were sharp, and although she tried to restrain herself, she barely managed to hide the disgust in her voice.
Felix froze instantly, startled not only by the command itself but by the intensity behind it.
This reaction was not new to her.
Over the years, she had developed a quirk—one she never spoke about openly.
The very idea of being touched by anyone other than Natsuki Subaru filled her with revulsion. It wasn't limited to men, nor did familiarity soften it.
Even when other women touched her, even when her own children reached for her, the same feeling surfaced.
Disgust.
The aversion was so severe that it had made her life incredibly difficult.
Raising her children with such a quirk had been a constant struggle, one that demanded immense restraint and endurance on her part.
Smiles, affection, and physical closeness—things that should have come naturally—had instead become challenges she was forced to overcome again and again.
Only she knew how hard that had truly been.
"I–It seems that while thinking about hunting the White Whale, one of its abilities somehow affected me," she said calmly, lying once again without hesitation.
Even she was slightly surprised by how naturally the words came out.
"Impossible!" Felix exclaimed immediately.
"The Whale isn't even here! Even if it can erase mem—"
Wilhelm raised a hand slightly, signaling Felix to stop.
His expression darkened as a realization crossed his mind.
The White Whale did possess the ability to erase memories.
That fact alone could not be denied.
However, what troubled him was the implication of her claim.
He had never heard of the Whale's power affecting someone merely for thinking about hunting it.
And yet…
He frowned.
'Then why are my own memories intact?', he wondered.
'I am practically the greatest hater of the White Whale in all of Od Laguna.'
If intent alone was enough to trigger such an effect, then he should have been affected long ago.
That inconsistency gnawed at him, but it still wasn't enough to accuse her outright.
There were too many unknowns surrounding the White Whale's abilities, too many gaps in their understanding.
"I cannot say how or why it affected me," she continued smoothly, reinforcing the lie, "but my memories are still disordered."
She met Wilhelm's gaze directly, her expression serious and composed.
"Tell me," she said firmly, "about all recent incidents. I need to understand exactly what happened in past few days."
Her request was deliberate.
She needed information—accurate, detailed information—to confirm at what period of timeline she had been sent back to.
Felix and Wilhelm exchanged a brief glance with one another before finally beginning to explain everything in order.
They started from the very beginning, recounting the events of the Royal Selection and the chaos that followed.
They spoke about how Natsuki Subaru had caused a public scene, drawing unwanted attention to himself and to Emilia's camp.
Wilhelm explained the duel that had followed—Subaru's confrontation with Julius—and how it had ended in humiliation.
They continued by describing her own private affairs during that period, the tasks she had been handling behind the scenes, and the preparations she had been making.
Eventually, the explanation reached the moment that mattered most.
They told her how Natsuki Subaru had come to her.
How he had appeared before her without dignity or leverage.
How he had begged shamelessly for her help, pleading for military support as if he had any right to demand such a thing.
Felix, in particular, did not bother to hide his opinion as he spoke.
His voice was filled with clear disgust, every word carrying contempt as he described Subaru's actions and presence.
Hearing that tone directed at her Lord made her blood boil.
Her expression remained outwardly calm, but inside, rage surged violently.
She clenched her fists just enough to stop them from trembling.
It took every ounce of her self-control not to strike Felix on the spot, to silence him for daring to speak of Natsuki Subaru with such disrespect.
She forced herself to remain still.
Felix and Wilhelm continued speaking, unaware of the storm building within her.
Throughout her life—without Subaru ever knowing—she had dealt with people like this before.
People who mocked him.
People who insulted him.
People who spoke of him with disdain.
Many of them had not lived long afterward.
She had murdered more people than she could count simply for insulting Natsuki Subaru.
Quietly.
Efficiently.
Without remorse.
That was how twisted her personality had become over the years, shaped entirely around him.
And now, she listened in silence, reminding herself that this was the past—and that she could not act on those impulses just yet.
"I–I see," Crusch said quietly, clicking her tongue in irritation.
If she had returned just a little further back in time, everything could have been different.
If it had been earlier—before the events at the Royal Castle—she could have taken her Lord into her camp without hesitation.
She could have protected him, sheltered him, and spared him the humiliation he had suffered in front of the Royal Candidates and the knights.
But fate had not been that kind.
Instead, she had been sent back to the exact moment after she had already thrown him out.
That realization made disgust coil tightly inside her chest.
Not toward Subaru, but toward herself.
Toward the version of herself that had treated her Lord like dirt, rejected him when he was at his most desperate, and cast him aside without mercy.
The self-loathing was sharp and immediate.
However, as those thoughts swirled, something else suddenly occurred to her.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her posture straightened as urgency replaced regret.
"What time of day is it?" she asked quickly.
"How many hours has it been since Lo—"
She stopped herself just in time, correcting her words.
"Since Natsuki Subaru came here seeking help?"
Felix and Wilhelm both frowned at the sudden question.
The intensity in her voice caught them off guard, and they exchanged another brief look before answering.
Still, despite their confusion, they told her the truth without hesitation, giving her the exact timeframe she had asked for.
She clenched her jaw and tightened her fists as the realization set in.
Not much time had passed. That alone was enough to reignite her resolve.
If she acted immediately—if she gathered her forces without delay—she could still intercept him on the road leading toward Arlam Village.
And not just that.
She could also deal with the White Whale right now.
'I can fix this,' she thought feverishly.
'I can save my Lord from suffering.'
The idea took root instantly, growing stronger by the second.
'If I save the village,' she continued, her thoughts racing, 'then as compensation, I can simply take him into my camp.'
To her, it made perfect sense.
She didn't have the luxury to grieve over the decades she had already lost with Natsuki Subaru.
That pain could wait.
What mattered now was the future—the fact that she still had a chance to spend another entire lifetime with her Lord.
That thought alone was enough.
Joy bloomed in her eyes, bright and unmistakable, as heat rushed to her face.
[Image]
She flushed deeply and instinctively raised a hand to cover her expression, as if embarrassed by her own thoughts yet unable to suppress them.
"???"
Felix and Wilhelm could only stare.
By this point, both of them were completely speechless.
They stood there in stunned silence, exchanging uncertain glances, clearly hesitant to ask what had just caused such a drastic shift in her demeanor.
Before either of them could speak, a sudden knock echoed against the door.
The sound cut through the room sharply, drawing all attention toward it and halting the moment in its tracks.
She took a steady breath before responding, forcing her expression back into something composed.
"Come in."
The soldiers outside immediately opened the door.
As it swung open, she saw a third soldier step forward into the room.
His posture was straight, his movements disciplined, and it was immediately clear that he was not from her own camp.
"Lady Crusch," the soldier said respectfully, lowering himself into a proper bow.
"I am a soldier from the Priscilla Camp. I have come on the direct orders of m'lady."
He paused only briefly before continuing.
"Lady Priscilla has requested urgent healing from Blue. She has lost her right leg and is in immediate need of medical treatment."
Crusch frowned at his report.
She had no memory of such an incident occurring in her original timeline.
As far as she could recall, Priscilla had never lost a limb at this point in time.
The discrepancy immediately stood out to her as another sign that things were no longer following the same path as before.
However, she quickly dismissed the thought.
Right now, her greatest concern was not Priscilla Barielle, nor the strange deviations appearing in the timeline.
Her focus belonged elsewhere—entirely and completely to Natsuki Subaru.
Anything that did not directly interfere with that goal could be dealt with later.
Without hesitation, she turned her attention to Felix.
"Blue," she said firmly, issuing the order without pause.
"Accompany him and provide healing to Lady Priscilla immediately."
The command landed heavily in the room.
Felix froze in shock, his eyes widening as he stared at her in disbelief.
Not only had she agreed to send him away without question, but she had also addressed him by his title instead of his name—something she almost never did.
For Felix, that alone was deeply unsettling.
"Crusch-sama, are you alright now?" Felix asked anxiously, his concern clear as he looked at her face for any lingering signs of instability.
"I am fine," Crusch replied calmly.
"I have regained my senses."
She paused for just a moment before continuing, her voice steady.
"And the White Whale's influence has also given me an important clue."
As she spoke, she allowed herself a faint smile—carefully measured, restrained with effort.
It took all of her self-control not to act out of character or reveal too much through her expression.
She then turned her gaze toward Wilhelm.
"Sir Wilhelm," she said firmly, her posture straightening.
"Please gather all available soldiers at once and inform them to prepare for a White Whale subjugation."
Her tone was unmistakable—clear, authoritative, and absolute.
It was the same commanding voice Wilhelm had followed for months without question.
Wilhelm stiffened in surprise.
For a brief moment, shock flashed across his face.
Then, without hesitation, he bowed deeply.
"As you command, Duchess," he replied, before turning quickly to carry out her orders.
'Just as I thought,' Crusch noted silently as she watched him go.
The moment the White Whale hunt was mentioned, Wilhelm discarded all of his lingering suspicions.
His focus shifted entirely to the objective, his instincts as a warrior and someone who wanted revenge taking over.
To him, this was familiar ground—something he understood and wanted.
Meanwhile, she ensured that Blue will be sent away, giving herself the space she needed to think clearly without interruption.
Now, she needed a plan.
She had to determine how to take down the White Whale efficiently, decisively, and with minimal losses.
But more importantly than that—more important than the battle itself—she needed to ensure one thing above all else.
She needed to save her Lord.
Then, after briefly acknowledging the soldier from Priscilla's camp—who bowed repeatedly while thanking her—Crusch turned her attention back to the room.
By now, both Blue and Wilhelm had already left to carry out their respective tasks.
Her gaze shifted to the two soldiers standing guard nearby.
"You two," she said coldly, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.
"Immediately begin searching for Natsuki Subaru and deliver my order for him to meet me at once."
The soldiers stiffened as her eyes bore into them.
"If you fail to accomplish this task," she continued without pause, "then consider yourselves no longer soldiers of House Karsten."
The weight of that command struck them like a hammer.
Horror flashed across their faces as they realized she was not exaggerating in the slightest.
Before they could even respond, she added sharply, her tone growing even more severe.
"And one more thing. Treat him with respect. If I discover that you have shown him even the slightest disrespect, you will answer directly to me."
The way she barked the words made both men tremble.
They snapped to attention immediately, fear evident in their movements as they saluted her as one.
"As you command, Duchess!" they shouted in unison.
Without wasting another second, they turned and hurried out of the room, rushing to begin their search for Natsuki Subaru.
Crusch watched them leave in silence.
She had deliberately waited until Blue and Wilhelm were gone before issuing these orders.
For the time being, she wanted to avoid any suspicion—especially anything that might delay her meeting with Natsuki Subaru.
Every second mattered now.
That was precisely why she had so readily sent Blue away to heal Priscilla's leg and dispatched Wilhelm to prepare the soldiers.
Both tasks were important, but they also served another purpose: clearing the room so she could act freely.
All of it was calculated.
And all of it was for him.
She took a deep breath before slowly sitting back down at her desk.
Only then did the full weight of reality finally settle on her shoulders.
The life she had lived—her entire lifetime—was gone.
Her children, the years she had spent raising them, the memories she had built with them, all of it had vanished as if it had never existed.
Everything had been taken from her.
Her hands tightened slightly as the thought crossed her mind.
'Who sent me back to the past?', she wondered.
'No… what sent me back?'
The question lingered, heavy and unresolved.
She searched her mind for answers, for logic, for some hidden reason behind such a cruel twist of fate—but there was nothing.
No explanation.
No clarity.
In the end, she let the question go.
There was no point in dwelling on something she could not understand.
Duchess Karsten had never been a normal woman.
She knew that better than anyone.
Somewhere deep inside, she recognized how twisted her own nature had become over the years.
Faced with despair, with total loss, she did not collapse.
Instead, she instinctively searched for opportunity—even in something as horrifying as this.
In truth, a part of her was relieved.
A part of her was even glad that she had been sent back to the past.
Because this meant she had been given another chance.
Another chance to live beside her Lord.
Another chance to walk with him, to protect him, and to build new memories together—memories just as precious as the ones she had lost.
The thought that Subaru had forgotten all of their precious moments still hurt her deeply.
The memories they had shared, the years they had lived together, and everything they had endured side by side were now known only to her.
That pain was real, and it lingered.
But it wasn't enough to stop her.
She could make those moments again.
And this time, she would make them even better.
As for her children and grandchildren?
They barely mattered to her now.
The realization came easily, disturbingly so.
She did not feel the crushing grief one might expect.
Instead, she found that letting go of them required far less effort than it should have.
When that truth surfaced, she couldn't help but acknowledge it herself.
'No wonder my Lord used to say I'm a bad bitch.'
The thought did not shame her.
If anything, it felt accurate.
Duchess Karsten knew exactly what kind of woman she was.
She did not deny it, and she did not pretend otherwise.
She had long since stopped seeing herself as virtuous or righteous.
She was selfish, obsessive, and completely devoted to a single man.
She was her Lord's bitch.
And this time—no matter what it took—she would ensure that she once again became his beloved bitch, just as she had been before.
To be continued...