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I was born into the Ron family a mid-level noble house with modest wealth and just enough prestige to secure my future.
Yet from a young age, I knew my destiny was not entirely my own.
My arranged marriage to Ophelia Lon Farndell, daughter of the illustrious Farndell family, was sealed before I even understood its true meaning.
I was meant to be a stepping stone to greater power, but the moment I met her, my heart sank.
The wedding day arrived in all its pomp and ceremony, but it was the beginning of a lifelong nightmare.
Ophelia's icy smile and cutting words made it clear I was nothing more than a tool to enhance her status.
In our private chambers, she would sneer "You are merely a means to an end, Levis. Do not think you deserve any affection."
Every attempt I made to win her favor preparing her tea just so, gifting her rare flowers, writing heartfelt poems was met with ridicule.
"Is that the best you can do?" she would snap, her eyes void of even a hint of warmth.
Despite my efforts, the years of mental abuse weighed heavily on me, each day chaining me deeper into despair.
And then the war against the first Chaos erupted. I fought with every ounce of strength I had, but in the melee of clashing spells and clashing swords, I was gravely wounded.
I found myself drifting along a cold, ruthless river, my strength fading with every passing moment. In that moment of crushing despair, as darkness threatened to swallow me whole, fate intervened.
A village girl named Igrus discovered me along the riverbank.
I remember her gentle hands lifting me, her soft voice murmuring, "Hold on, Levis. I won't let you go."
In her humble cottage, I lay weak and broken as she cared for me with tender, unwavering devotion.
While Ophelia wrapped up in her own cruelty never bothered to search for me, Igrus nursed me back to life.
Slowly, under her care, my mana began to stir once more. In the quiet intimacy of her modest home, I began to feel hope again a warmth that I had never known within the cold confines of nobility.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and bathed the room in soft, golden light, I found myself unable to contain the emotions building inside me. my voice trembling, eyes glazed with unshed tears.
"Igirus… do you know what it is to live thirty years in a gilded tomb? To wear robes stitched with gold, yet shiver beneath them? To sit at feasts where laughter is hollow as clinking goblets, where every word is a dagger veiled in silk? I did. I breathed that life. Until you."
I takes her hands, hard from labor, and presses them to my chest.
"The day you dragged me from the river, I thought death had spat me back. But then… you fed me. Not just broth, but stories. Every night, as you sat by that hearth your hair tangled, your apron stained you'd tell me about the stubborn goat, the broken cart wheel, the way the sunset painted the wheat fields crimson. "
"And I… I hung on every word. For the first time, someone saw me. Not Levis Di Ron, heir to a name as cold as marble. Just… a man. Broken. Worth saving."
My thumb traces the scar on her knuckle, a relic from her scythe.
"You gave me warmth, Igirus. Not the false heat of a manor's fireplace, but the kind that seeps into your bones. Like sunlight after a lifetime of winter. When you'd leave for the village, I'd count the minutes. I'd stare at the door like a fool, rearranging herbs just to hear your footsteps."
"Do you know what I learned? Waiting for you… it wasn't patience. It was hope. A hope I'd buried long ago."
I drops to one knee, My voice breaking.
"You are my anchor. In this storm of a world, you are the ground beneath my feet. When you laugh, my heart races like it's relearning how to beat. When you frown, I want to mend the sky itself. I don't want gold or titles or the hollow lies of nobility."
"I want this the smell of soil after rain, your voice humming as you knead bread, the way your eyes crinkle when you scold me for tracking mud inside."
I pulls a simple band from My pocket, forged from a copper nail and a strand of her hair.
"Let me be your Adam. Let me take your name, your life, 'your ordinary,' 'glorious days"
"Let me wake to your stories and sleep to your breath. My past was a prison… but you? You are the key, the song, the story I never dared to dream. "
"Igirus…" my tear fallen down.
"will you write the rest of this life with me? Not as a noble, not as a mage, just as yours. Forever."
Her tear cuddle with his own.
"You idiot. You've been my 'co-author' since the day you cried over burnt stew. Now get up before the bread rises without you."
She slips the ring onto her finger.
I lean in whispering against her lips.
"Every chapter. Every word. Yours."
And in that cottage, with dust motes dancing in the sun, the mage who once ruled spells learns to rule a simpler magic ,love, stitched into the ordinary.
In that moment, I vowed to leave behind the bitterness of my past.
I renounced the title that had defined my miserable existence and chose a new identity Igrus Levis a man reborn through love and compassion.
For one blissful year, I wandered the lands with her, our adventures filled with quiet moments of wonder, shared laughter, and a tenderness that mended the deepest parts of my soul.
But peace is a fleeting illusion in our turbulent world. The Chaos Army surged once more, and I found myself on the front lines, determined to protect the woman who had rekindled my spirit.
I donned my armor and led the charge with a fierce, desperate hope. The battles were brutal, every swing of my sword and every surge of mana fueled by memories of a loveless past and the promise of a future filled with her love.
In one savage clash, a vicious blow struck me down, and I collapsed into Igrus' arms.
As I lay there, my vision blurred and my life waning, I whispered, "Igrus… these past two years have been the happiest of my life. More than all the thirty years I endured in that gilded prison. You have shown me what true joy is, and I will carry that with me forever."
In my final moments, as life ebbed from my battered body and darkness beckoned at the edge of oblivion, I knew I had one last task to complete a final act to preserve the truth of who I was, and to seal away the memories that had driven me to this point.
With trembling fingers, I reached for the necklace I had taken in my revenge against the Ron family.
That key never returned had been a symbol of my defiance, a constant reminder of the legacy I refused to let be erased.
I focused every last spark of mana within me, channeling it through my weary veins toward the pendant.
Whispering incantations that barely escaped my cracked lips, I cast my memory onto the necklace.
A glowing mana rune flared to life on its surface a safeguard, a magical imprint designed to preserve every moment, every regret, every hope I had ever known.
With that rune, my identity would be locked away in pure energy, immortalized beyond the confines of my mortal form.
As the mana surged, my memories of endless torment, of love reclaimed, and of bitter revenge flashed like silent images in the depths of my mind.
I felt the power of that spell solidify, intertwining with the very essence of the necklace. It was as if I were inscribing my soul into that small, unassuming piece of jewelry a final testament to the man I had been and the legacy I would leave behind.
Even as my strength waned, I clutched that necklace tightly, refusing to let go. I had not returned the key to the Ron Family Vault, I had kept it close, a constant reminder of the price I'd paid for defiance, and of the power that true memory held.
And now, even as I lay motionless in my coffin, my key would remain with me an unyielding spark of rebellion that no time or oblivion could extinguish.
I felt my strength fading, my body betraying me, and with a gentle smile, I surrendered to the darkness.
I passed away there, in the warmth of her embrace, leaving behind a legacy of love that outshone the hollow titles of nobility.
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