Chapter 143: Unknown Princess 4
Ank was waiting outside for her while hearing the constant taunts of the AI echoing in his mind, her voice filled with amusement as she continued to provoke him again and again.
Although irritation slowly built inside him, rising like heat that wanted to burst out, he still controlled himself, stopping that reaction before it could surface.
Because he knew very well that reacting to her would only make things worse, and right now he had no energy to waste on meaningless arguments when something far more important was about to happen.
Time passed slowly.
Too slowly.
And then.
The door opened.
Ank's gaze immediately moved toward it, his attention sharpening without him even realizing it.
Because something about this moment felt different, something about what was about to happen made him nervous.
She stepped inside.
Her disguise was gone.
No longer hiding behind a false appearance, no longer covering herself with any false identity.
She now stood in her true form, revealed completely, the magical artifact that once masked her presence no longer active.
In an instant, the atmosphere in the room became awkward. She did not know what to say to Ank.
Ank was also surprised.
Not just because of how she looked.
But because of what followed.
A vision flashed through his mind, sudden and sharp, not fully clear yet impossible to ignore, a fragment of something buried deep inside him.
Something connected to her, something tied to countless moments he had long forgotten.
Within that vision he saw the memory of someone he had killed again and again across countless reincarnations, someone whose end he had brought repeatedly without hesitation.
But she still did not die, even killing her made her reincarnate again.
And now.
She was standing in front of him.
Alive.
In the vision he was now seeing was one of the sins he carried until now and would hunt him in the future.
Now inside the vision,She walked forward slowly, barefoot, each step light yet steady, as if the ground itself feared to break beneath her, her movements neither hurried nor hesitant, carrying a quiet certainty that did not need to be displayed loudly, because it existed naturally within her.
There was no battlefield now.
No chaos.
No fire.
Only silence.
And her.
Her long pink hair flowed all the way to her feet like soft silk, swaying gently behind her with every movement. The strands brushed against her shoulders and framed her face beautifully, trailing behind her as if even time itself could not make them fade away.
Her eyes.
Sharp.
Purple.
Calm.
They no longer burned with divinity, no longer carried the overwhelming presence of a goddess.
No longer held the authority that once made the universe tremble before her existence.
Because now.
There was nothing left for her to lose.
Her gown wrapped around her body in deep shades of crimson and rose, the fabric flowing naturally with her movement and a split along her leg, revealing just enough to show her steps without exposing more than necessary.
And along its edges faint golden patterns glowing dimly as if they were remnants of something that once held power, something that once defined her existence but now remained only as decoration.
Her skin bore faint marks.
Traces of pain.
Signs of battles already fought.
Wounds that should have weakened her.
Wounds that should have broken her.
But she did not fall.
She did not slow.
She did not stop.
Her posture remained straight.
Her expression remained calm.
One step.
Then another.
Each movement carried no urgency.
No desperation.
Only will.
The will to stand.
The will to move forward.
The will to face whatever stood ahead of her without hesitation.
There was no aura surrounding her.
No overwhelming pressure.
No presence that forced others to step back in fear.
And yet.
Anyone who looked at her would feel it.
Not power.
Not dominance.
But something far more terrifying.
Resolve.
The kind of resolve that does not break even when everything else collapses.
The kind of resolve that does not hesitate even when there is no path forward.
The kind of resolve that continues to move forward even when everything has already been taken away.
She was no longer a goddess.
No longer divine.
But at this moment.
She looked far more unshakable than any god Ank had ever faced.
And as she walked forward, her gaze fixed ahead, unwavering and silent, not searching, not questioning, simply moving forward because that was what she had chosen to do, it became clear.
This was not the end of her story.
This was only the moment she refused to fall.
Ank's mouth was slightly open.
For a brief moment, words did not come to him, because what he was seeing in front of him was not something he had expected, not something he had prepared for, not something he had even considered as a possibility.
"This is not possible " he muttered softly, his voice barely audible, as if he was speaking more to himself than to her, trying to process what stood before him.
"If the universe is joking with me,this is too much," he added quietly, his gaze still fixed on her.
"So this time, this is your reincarnation," he said slowly, the realization forming completely now, connecting the fragments of memory, the voice he had heard, the hatred he had felt, the presence he could not forget.
He exhaled quietly.
"I have a lot of apologies toward you," Ank continued, his voice lowering slightly, losing its usual firmness for a brief moment, "but I will wait, I will face your anger when your memory comes back," he added, accepting what was inevitable rather than trying to avoid it.
"And now I understand why mother wanted you to become my fiancée," he said, his tone shifting again, becoming calmer, more resolved.
"I will agree with her," he continued, "because this is the least I can do for now."
And the vision ended.
Then he looked at her directly.
"Now, can you sit, so we can start discussing our future," Ank said, his voice steady once again.
"My future?" she repeated, her tone carrying clear confusion, because nothing about what he was saying matched what she understood about her current situation.
"Yes," Ank replied simply.
"Your future."
She moved quietly, her pink hair still slightly wet from the bath, strands clinging lightly to her skin, her gown now a softer shade of pink compared to before, and she sat on the bed, her movements controlled, her gaze still fixed on him, searching for meaning behind his words.
Ank took a small breath.
"So first," he said, his tone becoming more serious, "I want to make something clear."
"You are now my responsibility."
"Your responsibility…" she repeated again, her confusion deepening rather than fading, because those words carried a weight .
Ank's expression hardened slightly.
"Now you are connected with me," he said slowly, his voice calm but carrying something darker beneath it, something that did not need to be expressed loudly to be understood.
"So your enemies " he continued, his eyes narrowing slightly as a faint, dangerous smile appeared on his face.
" are now my enemies."