Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 144: Because Of Me

Abram stumbled into the room, his breath heavy and his armor bloodstained.

The healers had helped him regain consciousness and healed his injuries from the explosion and the shrapnel of the destroyed pillar, but he was still in the same light armor he’d been wearing before the barbarians had breached the dome.

When the news had been delivered, he hadn’t believed it. It just couldn’t be possible. But now, as he stumbled into the chamber, his eyes were telling him that it was indeed true.

The air in the chamber was still, quiet, heavy, as if holding its breath. And there, in the center of the room, laid his son.

Darius’ body had been cleaned, dressed in the finest armor the house possessed, his eyes closed and his face unnaturally still. He was too pale to look like he was sleeping peacefully.

Kneeling before him was Maria, her shoulders trembling, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. Her head was bowed, long dark hair cascading down her back.

Abram took a step forward, then another, until he was beside her. He lowered himself slowly, his knees hitting the cold stone floor with a dull thud.

For a long moment, they said nothing. Just sat there in silence, the kind that wraps around a person like a shroud.

"It wasn’t your fault." Maria said softly, as if she’d been reading his mind, viewing the storm that was brewing in it.

Abram had never seen himself as a poetic man but in that moment, it felt as if the sun that had shined on his life was gone. His voice was low, rough, and cracked in places as he spoke. "It was."

Maria turned her face slightly, watching him as he stared blankly at their son.

"If I hadn’t been stubborn. If I hadn’t tried to teach him. If I hadn’t turned every moment into a lesson... he wouldn’t have been there."

He clenched his jaw, the muscles twitching. "He wouldn’t have died."

"Abram..."

"I kept thinking I had time. Time to say I was proud. Time to let him know I saw him as a man. Not just a son. Time to tell him I valued his opinions. But I kept waiting for the right moment. And now he’s gone."

A tear slipped down the side of his cheek, cleansing a path through the blood and dust.

"If I had just accepted his offer." He whispered. "If I had just handed over the barony to Rosefield, he would still be alive."

"You couldn’t have known." Maria whispered.

"We lost villagers too." Abram murmured, continuing. "Barbarians slipped through during the battle. Burned homes. Killed children. Our people..." He exhaled harshly. "All for what?"

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"Because of me." Maria said softly.

He turned to look at her. Her eyes were rimmed red, her skin pale, but her voice remained strong. Steady.

"This war started because of me, Abram. Because of what I carry. Because of the Dryad sealed inside me. If I give myself up. If the Tribe of Three get what they want, this could all end."

"Don’t." Abram growled. He reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. "Don’t even say that."

Maria looked at him, pain swimming in her eyes. "They want me, Abram." She whispered desperately. "If I go, maybe this ends. Maybe we won’t have to bury another kid. Maybe Ren and Felix won’t have to die like Darius."

"If you go, the Dryad takes control. The world burns. This doesn’t end with your death. It begins with it." Abram said hoarsely. "And if that happens, all of us will definitely die."

Maria exhaled, tears streaming down her face. "What do we do, Abram? What do we do?"

They leaned into each other, two desperate souls trying to patch the hole that had just been torn into their heart.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she clung to him like a lifeline.

The silence returned, but it was different now. Not empty. Not hopeless. But still filled with grief.

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In the Underwood estate, warm sunlight filtered through the tall windows, landing gently on Lilith’s bed.

For days, she’d laid still, unmoving, her body locked in a battle with the illness ravaging her from within.

Then, her fingers twitched.

Her eyelashes fluttered.

And finally, her eyes opened.

"Ren." She whispered, her voice hoarse, barely audible.

A rustle came from the corner of the room as Elias jerked awake in his chair. He blinked rapidly, as if unsure whether he was dreaming.

"Lilith?"

She turned her head slowly. "Where’s Ren?"

Elias scrambled to the bed, placing a cool hand against her forehead and yanking it back, hissing in pain. "You’re awake! Thank the heavens." He said, his voice filled with overwhelming relief.

"Where is he?" Lilith asked again, raising her voice by just a bit.

Elias hesitated. "He’s at Ross Castle. The border was breached. The barbarians attacked. Ren’s with his family."

Lilith tried to sit up, but the effort made her wince, her body still weak and feverish.

"I have to go." She said, trying again. "I have to go to Ren."

"You can barely lift your head." Elias said gently, pressing her back down. "Your body is still fighting. You’re still sick. You need to rest."

"But Ren’s in danger. He could be dying. I need to help."

"And if you go in your condition, you’ll die." Elias said. "And that would help no one."

Lilith stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. She wanted to go to Ren. To help him. But she couldn’t. She just wasn’t strong enough.

The frustration made her chest ache.

Elias spoke, his voice soft. "There’s a portal to House Ross being prepared. Once the Underwood forces are ready, we can cross over with them. You’ll see him soon, Lilith. But you have to hold on. Just a little longer."

Lilith closed her eyes, and a tear slipped free.

"I will." She whispered. "Just... let him be okay. Please."

"He will." Elias whispered, reassuring her. "It’s Ren. He’ll be fine."