How to Run Away from Obsessed Men

Episode 85

Mikhail’s sword pierced through Crain’s shoulder.

Crain staggered back, his sword slipping from his hand as he clutched his wounded shoulder. His wide eyes locked onto Mikhail in disbelief.

Mikhail was truly throwing his life away. In his current state, it should have been impossible for him to fight against so many transcendents, let alone Crain himself.

Yet, he was doing exactly that—achieving the impossible by sacrificing his own life force.

It was unfathomable.

Crain, panicked, shouted desperately, “Stop! Stop now, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

“Everything I want?” Mikhail’s voice was cold and flat.

“Yes! I know things you don’t. I can give you all the treasures in the Kesion Marquisate right this instant!” Crain pleaded.

“……”

“You know how many rare artifacts the Kesion Marquisate holds, don’t you? Even ancient relics are stored here.”

“……”

“I might even have a way to suppress the goddess’s power that’s tormenting you!”

Crain swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped nervously. Every word he spoke was a lie.

As always, Crain’s instinct was to lie his way out of this situation, just as he had done countless times before in his life.

He didn’t care whether there truly was a way to save Mikhail—he had no intention of helping him. His only goal was to escape this predicament alive.

‘If I can just make it out of here…’

The imperial palace, where Flute had gone, was heavily fortified with more troops than even those Crain had brought with him.

‘By now, the emperor must already be dead, and the imperial seal must be in Flute’s hands.’

All Crain needed to do was deceive Mikhail long enough to escape. Once he was out, there would be plenty of opportunities for him to regain control.

Flute, as the new emperor, wouldn’t leave anyone alive who stood in their way—not Kalia, not Raysis, and certainly not Mikhail.

The offer to suppress the goddess’s power should have been a tempting one for Mikhail.

But without hesitation, Mikhail swung his sword. The blade, still lodged in Crain’s shoulder, twisted with a grotesque sound.

At the same time, Mikhail’s body wavered, barely holding itself upright.

“Arghhh!”

Crain screamed as he stared at his arm—or rather, where his arm should have been.

The space was empty, a gaping absence where his limb had been. The searing pain shot through his body, threatening to overwhelm him.

But he wasn’t the only one injured.

After severing Crain’s arm, Mikhail, too, seemed barely able to stand. Wavering on unsteady legs, he used his sword to prop himself up.

Clenching his teeth, Crain glared at Mikhail.

The burning agony radiating from his missing arm clouded his mind, but he struggled to focus, knowing this was his last chance.

‘I need to end him now…’

Crain realized that if he didn’t act immediately, he would lose the opportunity to kill Mikhail.

“Brother Mikhail!”

A sudden cry pierced the air, causing Crain to turn his head.

Scanning the scene quickly, his eyes landed on Raysis, who was covered in blood.

It was clear that Raysis had been tormented by the power of the Book of the Dead before being forced into combat.

“Raysis, you’ve come! Quickly… help me,” Crain said, his voice sharp and commanding.

His eyes gleamed with desperation. The only person who could stop Mikhail now was Raysis.

Mikhail was gravely injured, barely holding himself upright. If anyone could finish him off, it was Raysis.

With a hopeful gleam in his eyes, Crain shouted to his son, “Raysis, kill Mikhail now! This is your only chance while he’s weak!”

“……”

“Get rid of this monster right now! Do you hear me?”

Crain’s tone was frantic. He knew this was the perfect opportunity to strike, as Mikhail’s weakened state left him vulnerable.

Clutching the Book of the Dead with his remaining arm, Crain held it high in the air.

Whenever Crain raised the Book, the members of the family would tremble in fear. Each time, he felt like a god wielding ultimate authority.

And he was confident this time would be no different. Raysis would obey, just as everyone else had.

Mikhail might have been reckless, but Raysis—his son—would surely value his life and act accordingly.

However, contrary to Crain’s expectations, Raysis didn’t move.

Instead, he stared at Crain’s face, his expression unreadable.

“Raysis?” Crain’s voice faltered slightly.

The silence was deafening, and for the first time, Crain felt a chill of unease creeping up his spine.

Despite being in a situation where a single gesture from Crain could cost him his life, Raysis appeared utterly unfazed.

Clenching his teeth, Crain shouted in fury.

“This time, I won’t forgive you. Obey me right now, Raysis!”

“Father,” Raysis replied calmly.

“Kill him now!”

But even after hearing Crain’s desperate command, Raysis did nothing.

Instead, he slowly approached Crain, stopping just close enough to lean in and whisper in his ear.

“Stop it. It’s over now. Everything is over.”

“What… what do you mean, over? You should know! Flute… Prince Flute is about to—”

“Prince Flute will never claim the imperial seal,” Raysis interrupted.

Crain’s grip on the Book of the Dead tightened as panic set in. As he invoked its power, blood began to trickle from Raysis’s mouth.

The Book’s power was clearly working. Crain could see it, and he knew Raysis could feel it too.

And yet, Raysis still refused to obey.

“What… nonsense are you spouting?”

“It means you’ve lost, Father. Your delusional ambitions have failed. Accept your defeat.”

“You insolent brat…”

Crain’s head spun. The blood loss from his severed arm was relentless, making it hard for him to think clearly.

But one thing was clear: Raysis had defied him.

“Pay for the crimes you’ve committed,” Raysis said firmly.

“How dare you…”

Before Crain could finish his sentence, he tightened his grip on the Book of the Dead, channeling its power.

Through his fading vision, he saw Raysis collapse to the ground, blood spilling from his body.

And then, everything went dark.

⋆★⋆

Kenyan moved forward.

He briefly glanced at the bloodstains on his hands. It hadn’t taken him long to reach the imperial capital.

Princess Rebecca had insisted that her trusted confidant, Azhet, stay close to the capital. Because of that, the Radian family’s villa was located nearby, allowing Kenyan to arrive at the capital swiftly.

‘So, in the end, my brother made the foolish choice…’

Kenyan looked at the imperial capital.

Screams of terror echoed from every direction.

Gripping his sword tightly, he stepped forward.

Azhet had always been a composed and rational person. But over time, he had started to lose his grip on reason.

‘Perhaps Lindsey’s curse actually worked on him.’

Kenyan smirked bitterly.

He had no right to laugh at Azhet’s foolish decisions. After all, Azhet had betrayed Princess Rebecca, just as Kenyan had betrayed Azhet.

Kenyan glanced back.

‘Bianca knew everything.’

Behind him, he saw the knights of the Radian family and the knights sent by Bianca from the Rosset family.

“Move. Our target is Prince Flute.”

With those words, Kenyan pressed forward.

He began cutting through the Eastern Empire’s knights with swift, decisive strikes. Wounds started appearing on his own body, one by one.

Azhet’s words weren’t without merit.

If Kenyan hadn’t come here, Flute’s ambitions might have come to fruition.

But Kenyan wasn’t going to let that happen.

He knew Lindsey would never want to see Crain’s ambitions realized, nor Flute sitting on the throne as emperor.

‘Foolish, isn’t it.’

Would she even acknowledge his efforts? Kenyan knew the answer. Lindsey had told him countless times before.

That she would hate him forever.

Even with that knowledge, Kenyan didn’t stop swinging his sword.

Fully aware of everything, he had betrayed Azhet.

And now, he stood here, fighting for Lindsey—even knowing it would cost him dearly.

‘If Bianca hadn’t sent reinforcements, this would’ve been even harder.’

Bianca must have foreseen it.

She must have seen that Prince Flute would ultimately fail.

‘That’s why she sent me reinforcements.’

Bianca was one of the kindest people Kenyan knew, but when it came to the matters of the family, she acted with ruthless clarity.

Her decision to send reinforcements meant only one thing: Kenyan would emerge victorious today.

Kenyan let out a quiet sigh of relief. From the moment Azhet had tried to arrange his engagement with the princess of the Eastern Empire, Kenyan had started preparing to head for the capital.

‘There’s only one place the prince could be.’

Today, even at the cost of his life, Kenyan intended to sever Flute’s head.

‘You’ll pay for what you did to Lindsey, Prince Flute.’