World's Best Protagonist [BL]-Chapter 127: Inside the Tower

Noir’s heart pounded as the words continued to echo in his head—she’s dead. He stared at Lexie, then Etienne, then finally Duke Eugene, whose frame stood firm against the door like a wall he could neither climb nor destroy.

"Move," Noir said, his voice trembling with rising fury. "Move, Eugene."

But the duke did not. He met Noir’s glare with quiet, heavy, sad eyes. "Your Highness, listen to me—"

"I said MOVE!" Noir’s fist struck Eugene’s chest with the force of desperation, again and again. "I want to see her! Let me go! Open that goddamn door!"

Duke Eugene endured each blow without moving. "You can’t," he said through clenched teeth. "If you go now, if the emperor finds out you were anywhere near the East Tower—he’ll suspect. You know what that means."

"I don’t care about him!" Noir shouted. His voice cracked. "I came back to this cursed world for her! Not for power, not for thrones, not for this party or this name—I don’t care about any of it anymore!"

Eugene flinched, not from the blows, but from the words. Came back to this world? He was puzzled, although he knew there was a mystery surrounding the group Noir came back with. But it stung his heart that wherever that was, Noir did not even think of him, or see him as a reason to return.

Noir slumped forward, his head resting against Eugene’s chest. "Please," he whispered. "Just let me see her... one more time..."

A tense silence enveloped the room. Claude’s fists tightened at his side, and Etienne couldn’t lift his head. The sorrow was too thick, too suffocating.

Claude stepped forward. His eyes moved from Etienne, whose face filled with sorrow, to Noir, whose hope or even the will to go on was lost.

"I can get you there," he said quietly.

Everyone turned to him.

"I can hide our approach by using my ability. But that means exposing ourselves to the enemy. This place is embedded with a magic sensor, according to the duke. If it scans my power as some sort of magic, then the alarm will go off."

"It will, Captain. Have you forgotten that our abilities came from the mana core inside our bodies? Mana is associated with magic. We have no way to escape that sensor," Lexie explained.

"We have to fight to escape this palace, then."

Etienne looked up. "Captain—are you sure?"

Claude nodded solemnly. "It’s risky. But I don’t think we should stop him." He had a mother, too, and he knew the feeling of losing someone important.

Lexie agreed with a nod. "He deserves to see her. Just once."

"No," Eugene said sharply, stepping between them again. "You don’t understand—"

"I understand perfectly," Noir cut in, stepping up to Eugene, fire burning in his reddened eyes. "You made me a promise. You said you’d do anything for me. That you’d be even willing to stage a rebellion if I asked for it! Now I’m not even asking for that, not yet. I’m only asking to see my mother..."

Eugene faltered, his resolve cracking. His voice came out hoarse. "I am doing what I think is best for you..."

"Then you don’t know me at all."

The words were a blade, swift and merciless, cutting through the duke’s heart. Eugene’s shoulders slumped. His gaze dropped. "Please," he said softly. "Don’t hate me for this." He slowly gave way.

But Noir didn’t answer. He brushed past him, storming out of the room, his skirt brushing the floor as he ran. Claude and Lexie followed swiftly behind, leaving the duke behind with hurt carved deep across his face.

—

The front of the East Tower was crawling with knights, the glint of armor catching moonlight as they stood with blades drawn. Tension buzzed through the air—they had found traces of the intrusion but had no idea who it was. The first batch of guards was still unconscious.

They already sent word to the emperor, and he ordered them to find out the culprit, threatening them that if they failed, their heads would roll on the floor instead. From afar, the lights and distant melodies from the party reached them, but soon that celebration would come to a halt.

The guards were all desperate. That changed when the princess came into view, her figure unmistakable even in the dark. The knights gasped, confused and stunned.

"Your Highness?" one of them asked. "What are you—?"

The guards were all alerted after the wind stilled and thick mist covered the ground, slowly rising. Within moments, a thick fog swallowed the yard. The knights shouted in alarm, some swinging blindly.

"You need to hurry. A group of palace mages will arrive soon," a voice came from behind. It was the duke, warning them.

"Understood." Lexie darted through the confusion, quick and lethal.

One by one, the knights fell unconscious, crumpling into the grass without a sound. Claude stood just outside the tower steps, his mist curling protectively around him.

"Go," he said to Noir, who had paused at the base of the tower. "We’ll handle it here."

Eugene and Etienne caught up just as Noir bounded up the stairs, feet flying as if his heart might burst if he stopped. The tower was darker than he remembered, colder too. The scent struck him halfway up—the scent of death.

In an instant, he was at the door, panting heavily. He shoved it open, his hand on his chest, trembling. His eyes immediately focused on the bed, an old, dusty curtain hanging by the sides, allowing him to only see the lower body, still covered in a blanket, but the hands that lay above it made him falter. The duke caught him just in time and supported his walk.

There, in the middle of the neglected room, lay what once was his mother. Nothing but almost a skeleton now, with wisps of light pink hair tangled across the pillow.

Noir collapsed by the bed, his knees hitting the floor hard. His fingers reached out, trembling, and he wrapped them around one frail, bony hand.

"M-Mother..." he called out mournfully, desperately wishing for his call to be answered. He kept calling, deluding himself that it wasn’t real. A sound escaped him. A soft, broken sound that became a sob. He wailed over his mother’s death. At the bottom of his heart, a raging thirst for revenge was igniting.

Etienne stepped into the doorway, but he didn’t approach. Eugene lingered behind him, head bowed. The room was quiet, save for Noir’s cries—raw, aching, and reverberating against the cold stone walls.

He wept like a child who had lost his entire world.

Because, in a way, he had.