Estella’s sharp reply left the middle-aged Estella wide-eyed in shock. Her already meek expression twisted as if she might burst into tears at any moment.

“H-How could you say something so cruel…?”

She looked genuinely stunned, as though she had never once in her life been spoken to like that. But Estella couldn’t care less. She was neither in the mood nor the situation to consider anyone else’s feelings.

“That’s my line. When you were sobbing and begging me to live in your place, that was fine—but now what is this nonsense? Did I ever ask to live your life? You forced me into it, and now you want it back? Don’t you think that’s disgustingly shameless? If you’re dead, then stay dead and go to heaven like a good corpse.”

Last time, she had been hazy and untouchable like a wisp of fog, but now—for whatever reason—she looked startlingly real, like a living person. Just a little older, but with the exact same face. It felt like staring at a doppelgänger.

“I—I won’t! Give me my body back!”

The middle-aged Estella took a step forward and reached out her hand. A faint light flickered at her fingertips. Estella instinctively sensed that if that light touched her, something irreversible would happen. She immediately stepped back.

“This is my body.”

“It was mine first!”

Her defiant answer made the older woman’s trembling voice sharpen.

“You abandoned it.”

“I’m taking it back!”

Middle-aged Estella shook with fury and sobbed like a deeply wronged victim.

“No. I won’t give it back.”

“You wicked…! You’re just like Katrin!”

The older woman screamed, trembling with rage. Tears streamed down her cheeks, clinging to her chin before dropping one by one.

'Wow, she cries well—what a pathetic sight.'

“No, you’re the one just like Katrin. You wore a mask of goodness all your life, played the victim, and turned your back on even the things you could have done. The past? Father and Luka didn’t die because of Aslan. They died because you did nothing. Always wallowing in sorrow, holed up in your room, depressed! You never even tried to act. You just sat there complaining about your life and wasted every moment of it.”

“That’s—!”

“What? You were drugged by Katrin? Being fooled for that long is also your fault. How could you not know? How did you not notice? Did you even try to find out? No. And even after you realized, you used ‘there’s nothing I can do’ as an excuse and still did nothing. And now you want your body back? Seriously?”

The more Estella spoke, the more furious she became. Yoon Seo-yi despised people like this the most—those who became bystanders to their own lives.

“You don’t feel any guilt for taking over someone else’s body? Don’t you pity me?”

Middle-aged Estella placed a hand over her chest and stepped forward again, pleading. Estella shook her head and stepped two steps back.

“Not even slightly. Guilt is for people who’ve done something wrong. I haven’t. So why should I feel anything? And I don’t pity you. You’re just pathetic.”

“You’re unbelievably selfish! I must’ve misjudged you completely.”

“No, you’re the selfish one. You let everyone die by doing nothing, and you ended up dying too. I’ll say it again—I will never give this body back. I’d rather die than let you have it. I’d rather pass it to Luka than hand it to someone like you. This is your final warning. I will never give it up.”

At some point, the Nevrion Steel Sword was in Estella’s hand. Neither she nor the middle-aged Estella had noticed when she’d drawn it, and both flinched in surprise.

When Estella raised the blade to the woman’s neck—

—Estella!

Ciel’s voice rang out from somewhere. It felt close, yet also distant.

“Ciel?”

—Estella, please… Please wake up. Come back to me. Please…

Ciel’s trembling voice echoed like the only key that could unlock this place. Estella looked around frantically, searching for the source. But all she saw was white walls—no sign of Ciel, or anything like him.

Then it happened.

A curtain billowed at the edge of the wall, revealing a large window beyond. Through it, a lush green forest emerged. Among the thick trees, the Long-Eared Rabbit stood perfectly still.

The curtain flapped again, revealing the same forest and the same rabbit—as if beckoning her to come.

Without hesitation, Estella ran straight for the window.

“No!”

“Stop!”

The desperate screams of the middle-aged Estella rang out behind her, but Estella didn’t look back.

Just as she was about to leap through the open window—

“If you go now, I’ll vanish forever! I used everything I had left just to call you here one last time. Please… I don’t want to disappear like this. If I do, how will you bear the guilt? Estella! No—Yoon Seo-yi! Please, give me my body back. I’m begging you. Please… please!”

Estella turned around at her pleading.

The woman thought she’d finally gotten through to her, tears of hope welling in her eyes as she stepped toward the window—

“F*** off.”

Estella raised her middle finger sharply, then leapt out of the window.

As it shut behind her, the sorrowful wailing of that woman echoed behind the invisible wall. But Estella never looked back.

It might have been a choice forced on her, but this life had become her everything—and she had no intention of giving it up. Even if it meant eternal damnation, so be it. It was her choice.

“Now then, rabbit. Why do you keep showing up in front of me? Are you helping me—or trying to kill me?”

Estella asked, staring at the Long-Eared Rabbit, who was watching her intently. Instead of answering, it bared its oversized fangs in a crooked grin and turned away, sauntering off.

She remembered—she’d been pulled back into that space the moment she locked eyes with the rabbit’s yellow gaze atop the rampart. If that was the case, she should probably slice its head off right now… but oddly, she didn’t feel like it.

“…Haa.”

The rabbit swung its forelegs like arms as it walked upright. Estella found it bizarre, but still followed it like a child trailing after its mother. Though it looked like she could catch it at any moment, it always stayed just out of reach.

Still, Estella didn’t give up. And when she finally managed to grab hold of one of its long ears—

—a sharp pain pricked her palm, and her eyes flew open.

“Estella!”

The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was Ciel’s face staring down at her.

“…Did you catch it?”

The first thing she asked after waking—whether he’d caught the purple Silverhunt.

So very Estella.

That question alone made Ciel’s face melt into a relieved smile.

“Of course. Like I’d disobey your orders…”

“…Good job.”

She answered with a dry, cracked voice, heavy with fatigue. Then she noticed how swollen Ciel’s eyes were—like a frog’s.

'Who the hell…?'

She couldn’t even imagine that she was the one who’d made him cry like that. But now she was dying to know who dared make her person cry.

“You… cried?”

Estella asked coolly.

“N-No! I didn’t cry. Why would I—”

Ciel waved his hands frantically in denial, but Estella didn’t look the least bit convinced.

“…Who was it.”

“What?”

“Who made you cry.”

As Estella pressed the question, Ciel faltered, unsure how to respond.

Just then—

“If you’ve confirmed she’s awake, get out! I still have to treat her!”

Gerard’s voice boomed from behind him like the grim reaper himself.

“I’m not hurt anymore. I’m fine.”

Estella tried to assure him quickly, but Gerard was unmoved. He drove Ciel out despite his resistance, then brought over a different chair—not the one Ciel had used—and sat beside the bed.

“Lie down. I need to check you again.”

His tone was unusually blunt. Estella found it odd but obeyed without complaint—after all, she had collapsed.

Lying neatly like a vampire in a coffin, she waited for Gerard to begin. She expected him to check her temperature or give her medicine, but he simply stared at her in silence for a while, then lifted her eyelid for examination.

“What are you doing?!”

“Diagnosis.”

Too stubborn to flinch, Estella glared right back at him. Her exposed eye stung a bit, but she endured it—this was a medical exam, after all.

“How long was I out? An hour? Two?”

She tried to estimate the time spent in that white room. Three hours, at most. She had a mountain of tasks waiting—every minute mattered.

She needed to reinforce the southern wall as soon as possible, and she was especially excited about what she could make from the Silverhunt scales. She couldn’t afford to lie around like this.

“A day.”

“…What?”

Her voice involuntarily rose. A day? She’d only just blinked!

Then, the middle-aged Estella’s words replayed in her ears. Her face stiffened. It wasn’t guilt—but something gnawed at her.

'It must’ve been a dream.'

There was no way someone who had begged so desperately would change like that.

Yeah, it had to be a dream. A twisted nightmare.

She clenched her fist tightly, as if to affirm it—and a sudden pain shot through her hand.

“Ah!”

The sharp pain came from her palm. Estella slowly opened her hand, an uneasy thought forming in her mind.

“When did you get this wound?”

Gerard stared at the specks of blood on her palm, startled, and quickly fetched gauze to clean it.

'It wasn’t a dream…'

Estella, stunned, stared at her own swelling hand.

“This is monster venom. There wasn’t a wound like this just moments ago.”

Gerard, flustered, sprang up and fetched a special ointment he had made earlier. He gently applied it to her palm.

The stinging heat and pain faded quickly. It really was a miraculous salve.

“Gerard, you’re a genius. How did you even come up with this?”

“All thanks to the grace of the great Lady Estella.”

Gerard offered unusually flowery praise—but in a dry, flat tone, completely devoid of humor.

As he wiped away the excess and began wrapping her hand in a clean bandage, Estella’s thoughts were still scattered in every direction.

But then Gerard casually dropped a question that shattered everything again.

“By the way…”

“Go ahead.”

“…Who are you, really, to be living in that body?”

Chapter 142

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