Regressing Through the Apocalypse with the Third Male Lead-Chapter 53: Volume 2 -

Freyah couldn’t bring herself to sleep, perhaps because she didn’t truly need one. The night was peacefully silent, as if the world had reverted to its former, tranquil state. She remained seated, leaning against the cardboard of her makeshift bed for hours, her thoughts a restless tide.

The moon shone brightly, illuminating the entire village, casting a gentle, reassuring glow that seemed to whisper a promise of peace and the restoration of normalcy.

"Knock knock" freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

A knock interrupted Freyah’s peaceful moment, her gazes narrowed towards the door, hesitating if she should answer it or not but then decided to answer it.

"Who is it?"

She asked, standing out of her bed and then walked towards the door to open it,

"Surprise..."

Monica and Gwenette were revealed standing outside both giggling as they whispered "surprise" not wanting to disturb the others sleeping in nearby rooms.

Freyah raises her right brow at them, curious what they are doing there instead of sleeping and resting.

"Yes?" She sighs as the two didn’t hesitate to burst into her room as soon as she let them in and then started to hop on her bed chuckling.

"What? We just want to bond" Monica answered with a grin, Freyah playfully rolled her eyes at them and approached, sitting on the edge of the bed and gave the two a smile.

"We are just missing the times we do sleep overs and all and after all we are going to leave tomorrow and we wouldn’t have time to talk like this" Gwenette gave Freyah’s shoulder a playful nudge to her arm as if urging her to just play along.

Freyah chuckles, shaking her hands, giving up to her friend’s playful invitation, "alright,

alright" before adding, " so what do you guys want to do? Play ’nanay-tatay’" Freyah chuckles jokingly to them.

Monica and Gwenette laugh softly, Gwenette even hit Monica’s arm and shoulders, just a playful habit of hers whenever she was so amused.

"Oww! Ow! Hey!"

Monica pouts and smacks Gwenette’s arm back which makes Gwenette laugh even more.

Freyah sighs and gives them soft chuckles as she shakes her head and then squeezes herself between her two best friends and puts her arms around their shoulders.

"Now now enough with that, I remember..."

Freyah started tackling all about the things they had been through. The two listened and commented both eager to share everything funny that happened to them and what they think about the apocalypse and the feeling of suddenly having skills and powers.

The room was filled with the joyous sound of their laughter, punctuated by soft, playful banter and the warm reminiscing of freshly minted memories that solidified their bond. Each shared smile and knowing glance deepened the sense of connection, a testament to the strength of their friendship.

Outside the room Florence, who was just passing by heard the laughters inside Freyah’s room, his ears perked and he stop and smile,

’Lady Lima and her friends...seems to be having a lot of fun right now’

Giving the door a glance and taking a deep breath before deciding to walk ahead, heading to his own room. Florence entered his room and gently closed the door, he walked and sat on the edge of his bed and closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh air.

And then open his eyes again, his golden eyes seem to glisten a bit. Florence then remembers the time he almost met death and thinks about it. Ever Since he had come here, To lady’s Lima world. All he did was survive for what? To come back to his world and continue to sacrifice himself? To just die?

Florence started to think how ridiculous that was. Is he really just surviving here to go back to his world and continue what was supposed to happen?

Back then, as he stood bound in the center of the execution grounds, despite the weight of the judgment bestowed upon him and the palpable anger and contempt radiating from the assembled crowd, he desperately searched for her—Kathleen—one last time.

He yearned to see her sweet smile, the smile that had always been his lifeline, the one that filled him with a sense of purpose and kept his spirit alive even in the darkest hours. He craved the sight of it, a final, comforting image to hold onto as he faced his fate. More than anything, he wanted the peace of mind that came from knowing his sacrifice, however painful, would not be in vain.

Florence sighed, a long, weary sound, and lay back, massaging his temples with a tired hand.

He couldn’t remember much from that day, the details fragmented and elusive. The memory of Kathleen’s presence was completely absent; all that remained was the chillingly emotionless gaze of the Emperor, a stark, unforgettable image seared into his mind then a wry chuckle escaped Florence’s lips; he couldn’t help but wonder what the Emperor’s reaction had been when he’d so unexpectedly vanished—a sudden, inexplicable disappearance from the very heart of the execution.

After all, the Emperor had been relentlessly, desperately determined to eliminate him.

"Your Majesty must be absolutely furious right now..." he whispered, the words barely audible above the frantic rhythm of his own heartbeat. He’d never truly liked the Emperor, not from the very beginning; there had always been a deep-seated distrust, a fundamental disagreement with the Emperor’s methods and the cold, often ruthless, way he ruled his kingdom.

Florence sighs again dismissing those thoughts and memories he shouldn’t really overthinking, Just by thinking about what the emperor did gave him the chills and suddenly the soft laughter made by Freyah and her friends from earlier lingers inside his head.

A smile gently flashes to his face, for some reason just hearing her laughter seems to make his heart at ease, happy that Freyah was atleast taking some break from being always on guard.

Florence closes his eyes, Wanting nothing more than just a peaceful night of rest for tomorrow’s new journey.

***

Time passed, and the sun began to rise. The cold air warmed, and villagers rose before sunrise, some taking their morning walks while others prepared for the day’s work.

Freyah had already packed her things—just some clothes and other necessities in a small bag. Others had done the same and were set to leave after lunch.

A few moments later, a knock on the door caught Freyah’s attention. It was Freyah’s mother, who quietly entered the room.

"The girl is awake,"

She said calmly, her voice a low murmur. Freyah’s eyes narrowed in acknowledgment; she nodded, placing her bag on the bed before following her mother out of the room.

As they arrived at the girl’s room, Paula was seated on the bed, seemingly lost in thought, enveloped in a pensive haze and utterly still, not moving an inch.

"She’s been like this since I arrived," Freyah’s mother observed, her voice laced with concern as she stood near Paula’s bed. Freyah carefully examined Paula’s condition, approaching cautiously.

"Paula..." Freyah whispered, her voice soft and gentle as she approached the bed. She carefully seated herself on the edge. Then, with a delicate touch, she waved a hand gently in front of Paula’s face, a hesitant attempt to break through the girl’s apparent trance, to coax her back to reality. The movement was almost imperceptible.

"Paula... everything’s alright now," Freyah repeated, her voice even softer this time, laced with genuine concern. She watched intently, her gaze searching Paula’s face, desperately trying to gauge any reaction, any flicker of recognition, from the seemingly broken girl. The silence stretched, heavy and thick with unspoken anxieties.

"How could anyone use a child like that..."

Freyah murmured, a wave of anger and sorrow washing over her as she ceased her attempts to rouse Paula. It wasn’t a battle she could win for her; it was a fight Paula had to wage herself, a journey back to herself that only she could undertake.

Freyah looked up at her mother, shaking her head slightly, a silent communication of helplessness passing between them. The gesture spoke volumes—there was nothing more she could do at this moment. She stood up, the movement quiet and deliberate.

"Please take care of her," Freyah said, her voice thick with emotion as she reached out to take her mother’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "She really needs it right now. More than anything."

"I will," her mother replied, her voice filled with reassurance and a quiet strength that calmed Freyah’s anxieties. "Don’t you worry."

Florence entered the room the moment he heard news of Paula’s awakening. Freyah and her mother turned to him, their worried glances meeting him. Florence nodded in silent understanding, a shared acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. He cast a worried glance at Paula, his expression a mixture of concern and empathy, before quietly sighing and leaving them to their vigil.

The unspoken understanding between them was palpable, a silent agreement to allow Paula the space and time she needed.

Freyah followed him out of the room, leaving Paula in her mother’s capable care.

"She’s going to be fine, your highness"

Freyah said, her tone intended to reassure Florence. She knew he was deeply affected by Paula’s condition; after all, he had been the one to purify her, to free her from the dark energy that had consumed her. The weight of that responsibility, and the lingering effects of the ordeal, were clearly etched on his face.

Florence offered a small, reassuring smile and a brief nod.

"Yes, she will be," he said, his voice gentle and confident. "Definitely, Lady Lima."

Freyah returned his smile; a shared understanding passed between them. They stood for a moment in comfortable silence before the approaching time of their departure spurred them into action, and they moved ahead with determined expressions.

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