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The battlefield fell silent.
Not the kind of silence that follows victory—
But the kind that comes after something unnatural.
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Smoke still lingered faintly in the air.
The ground remained cracked, broken from the summoning.
Fragments of what once was the creature had already faded… as if erased.
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But no one moved.
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Because they were still looking at her.
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The Grand Duke.
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"…What… was that?" a knight whispered under his breath.
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No one answered.
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Because no one knew.
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Except one.
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And he wasn't saying anything.
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Rosy stood at the center, her sword lowered at her side.
Her breathing steady.
Too steady.
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But inside—
Her thoughts weren't calm.
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That wasn't just power.
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It was something deeper.
Something that didn't feel borrowed.
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It felt—
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Right.
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Her fingers tightened slightly.
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"…We're leaving," she said.
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Her voice cut through the silence instantly.
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The soldiers snapped back to attention.
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"Yes, Grand Duke!"
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No one questioned her.
No one dared to.
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Because whatever they had just witnessed—
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It wasn't something you questioned.
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It was something you followed.
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The march back began immediately.
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This time—
No one spoke.
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No whispers.
No doubt.
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Only quiet respect.
And something else.
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Fear.
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Rosy rode at the front.
Her posture straight.
Her gaze fixed ahead.
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But her mind—
Was somewhere else.
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That vision.
That throne.
That presence.
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That was me.
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Not Isle.
Not Rosy.
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Something else.
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Something… older.
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"…You're quiet."
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Of course.
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She didn't turn.
"…For once."
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A faint chuckle.
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"Should I be offended?"
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She exhaled slowly.
"…You already knew."
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Silence.
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Then—
"Yes."
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Her grip tightened.
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"…Since when?"
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A pause.
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"Since before you woke up."
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That answer—
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Was worse than expected.
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Rosy's eyes narrowed slightly.
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"…Then everything you've said—"
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"Was true."
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She turned this time.
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"…You're not even trying to hide it anymore."
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A faint smile.
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"There's no point now."
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They rode in silence for a while.
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But the tension between them had changed.
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Before—
It was curiosity.
Suspicion.
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Now—
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It was something heavier.
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Something closer to truth.
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"…Then answer me properly," she said finally.
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His gaze shifted toward her.
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"…Who sealed me?"
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A long pause followed.
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Too long.
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For the first time—
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He hesitated.
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"…Someone who shouldn't have had the power to."
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Her brows furrowed.
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"That's not an answer."
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"It's the safest one."
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Her patience thinned.
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"I don't want safe answers."
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A faint smile returned.
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"I know."
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Then—
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"…Your father."
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Everything stopped.
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Not physically.
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But mentally.
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"…What?"
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The word came out quieter than she expected.
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More dangerous.
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He didn't look away.
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"Your father," he repeated calmly.
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A beat.
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"The head of the Blackwell family."
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Rosy's mind went blank.
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Not confused.
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But—
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Disconnected.
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That doesn't make sense.
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"…No," she said immediately.
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Her voice firm.
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Cold.
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"He didn't even appear much in the story."
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A pause.
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"He was irrelevant."
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A soft laugh escaped him.
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"Is that what you were told?"
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Her eyes sharpened.
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"…What does that mean?"
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He leaned slightly closer.
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"It means you've been reading the wrong story."
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Silence.
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Because that—
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That hit differently.
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"…Explain."
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But he didn't.
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Not immediately.
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Instead—
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"Do you remember what you said earlier?" he asked.
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She frowned.
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"…About what?"
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"About him."
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A pause.
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"You said he looked too young."
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Her breath slowed.
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"…Yes."
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"And you said," he continued softly—
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"you felt something was off."
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She didn't answer.
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Because she did.
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That strange feeling.
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That unnatural presence.
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That moment—
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When she accidentally called him—
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darling.
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Her grip tightened on the reins.
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"…That wasn't normal."
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"No," he said quietly.
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"It wasn't."
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Silence stretched again.
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But this time—
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It wasn't confusion.
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It was realization—
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Slow.
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Heavy.
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Dangerous.
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"…He sealed me," she said softly.
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Not a question.
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A statement.
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"Yes."
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Her heart didn't race.
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Her breath didn't falter.
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But something inside her—
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Shifted.
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Deeply.
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"…Why?"
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A pause.
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Then—
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"Because you were too powerful."
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The answer came easily.
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Too easily.
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"…That's not enough," she said.
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"It is in this world."
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Her eyes darkened.
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"…Then this world is broken."
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A faint smile.
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"Exactly."
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They rode in silence after that.
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But nothing felt the same anymore.
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Not the air.
Not the path.
Not even the destination.
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Because now—
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She knew.
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This wasn't just about survival.
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It wasn't just about revenge.
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It was personal.
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Far away—
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In the capital—
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A man stood alone in a dimly lit room.
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Tall.
Elegant.
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Timeless.
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His features sharp.
His presence—
Unshakable.
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In his hand—
A glass of deep red wine.
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"…She broke it."
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His voice was calm.
Measured.
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But his eyes—
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Cold.
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A servant behind him trembled.
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"Y-Yes, my lord…"
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He took a slow sip.
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Unbothered.
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Unsurprised.
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"…I wondered how long it would take."
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The servant hesitated.
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"Should we—"
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"No."
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The word cut cleanly.
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A pause.
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Then—
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"Let her come back."
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Silence.
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"…Because this time—"
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His lips curved into a faint smile.
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Not warm.
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Not kind.
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"But this time… I won't seal her."
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The room felt colder instantly.
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"I'll break her."
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Back on the road—
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Rosy's eyes gleamed faintly under the fading light.
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Not confused.
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Not lost.
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Focused.
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"…Then let's see," she whispered.
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Because if her father was the one who locked her away—
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Then he would be the first one she would destroy.
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And this time—
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She wouldn't disappear.
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She would return.
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End of Chapter 12