“Each thing that leads you into ruin—I’ll do it with my own hands.”

Just as she received notice of her divorce, she learned about her husband’s remarriage.

His new wife was none other than Tilda’s stepmother.

“You know, Tilda, I’m remarrying Winston Nockilla,” said Aclaire with an innocent expression on her face.

“He said I’m much better than a rigid woman like you. He wanted to divorce so much that I barely stopped him in the past.”

That day, Tilda realized.

Aclaire had taken away not only her husband but also her family, honor, and everyone she loved.

Thus, she prayed to the goddess, vowing to dirty her hands.

“I will plunge you into the pits of the void with my own two hands.”

━━━━━ ∙ʚ(✧)ɞ∙ ━━━━━

A collaborator for such perilous revenge appeared.

Kales Moyne.

He was a devout priest respected in the empire, yet he was an inscrutable man who always looked at her with a lecherous gaze.

“Even though I’m struggling under those cold eyes, I think it wouldn’t be so bad to fall into the abyss if I’m with you.”

His words flowed like a chant, but a hint of madness seemed to emanate from him.

With one corner of his mouth raised, Kales asked,

“Do I seem crazy to you?”

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