Chapter 59: seris darkmoor
Chapter 59: seris darkmoor
Just as Andras was about to head toward his room inside the Mansion, the grand entrance doors slowly swung open.
An elegant young woman, around the same age as him, stepped inside.
The elderly butler immediately bowed respectfully.
"Welcome , Lady Seris."
She acknowledged him with a slight nod before entering the main hall.
It was Seris Darkmoor.
The eldest daughter of Duchess Evelyne Darkmoor.
Andras’s older sister.
Dressed in a graceful sapphire-blue dress embroidered with silver thread, she carried herself with the elegance expected of a daughter of House Darkmoor.
Her long silver hair flowed neatly behind her, and her refined features drew attention wherever she went.
Yet despite her composed appearance...
There was unmistakable hesitation in her eyes.
Her gaze wandered across the familiar hall before finally settling upon the woman waiting for her.
"...Mother."
She stopped a few steps away before bowing slightly.
"Good morning."
Evelyne looked at her daughter in silence.
Several moments passed before she finally spoke.
"So..."
"You’ve finally come."
"I thought you wouldn’t."
Her voice remained calm.
Yet beneath that calmness lingered a trace of disappointment that even years of noble etiquette couldn’t completely conceal.
Seris lowered her eyes.
"...I’ve come."
Silence settled over the hall once more.
The servants wisely kept their distance.
No one dared interrupt.
Evelyne quietly observed her daughter.
Countless memories surfaced in her mind.
The image of Andras lying unconscious.
His pale face.
The physicians working tirelessly for three days.
The uncertainty of whether her son would ever wake again.
She had experienced many hardships throughout her life.
But those three days...
Had been among the longest she had ever endured.
Although Seris was her daughter...
That incident had left a wound within their family that had yet to heal.
Even now...
She found it difficult to look at Seris exactly as she once had.
Feeling the coldness hidden within her mother’s gaze, Seris slowly lowered her head.
"I’m sorry, Mother."
Her voice was quiet.
Filled with guilt.
Evelyne closed her eyes briefly before letting out a soft sigh.
"We’ll speak about that another time."
Seris nodded silently.
"...Yes."
Only then did her eyes shift toward the young man standing nearby.
Her movements became noticeably more hesitant.
"...Good morning, Brother."
Andras calmly met her gaze.
His expression remained as unreadable as ever.
"Good morning."
That was all.
No warmth.
No hostility.
Simply a greeting.
For some reason...
That indifference hurt Seris more than anger would have.
She hesitated.
Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the fabric of her dress.
Finally, she gathered enough courage to speak.
"...Brother."
"Would you... come with me?"
"There are... some things I’d like to say."
Andras remained silent for a moment before glancing toward Evelyne.
She looked at both of them before giving a small nod.
"Go."
"There are conversations that shouldn’t be postponed forever."
Andras nodded once.
Without another word...
He followed Seris.
Several minutes later...
The two entered Seris’s room.
Tall bookshelves lined one wall, filled with neatly arranged books covering history, magic, and literature.
Fresh white lilies rested inside a crystal vase beside the window, filling the room with a gentle fragrance.
Warm sunlight poured through elegant curtains, bathing the polished wooden furniture in a golden glow.
The room was immaculate.
Elegant.
Quiet.
Unmistakably feminine.
Seris slowly walked toward a small table positioned beside the window.
"...Please."
She gestured toward the chair opposite her.
Andras sat down without comment.
Seris followed a moment later.
Silence filled the room.
Neither of them spoke.
The ticking of an ornate clock hanging upon the wall seemed unusually loud.
Seris lowered her eyes.
She had imagined this conversation countless times during the past several weeks.
She had rehearsed what she wanted to say.
Apologized to him in her thoughts more times than she could count.
Yet now that Andras sat directly across from her...
Every prepared word had vanished.
She didn’t know where to begin.
Several long moments passed before she finally forced herself to speak.
"...How are you, Brother?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Have your injuries..."
"...completely healed?"
The concern within her eyes was unmistakable.
Andras quietly studied her.
Several seconds passed before he tilted his head ever so slightly.
"...How am I?"
"...How are my injuries?"
A faint smile appeared upon his face.
It wasn’t warm.
Nor kind.
Merely amused.
"This is the first time I’ve heard the person who nearly beat me to death ask whether I’m alright."
His voice remained perfectly calm.
"But yes."
"I’m better than ever."
Seris’s face instantly paled.
She lowered her head.
"...Brother..."
"I’m sorry."
"I know..."
"I know I was the one who injured you."
"I never intended..."
She stopped.
Her voice caught in her throat.
After struggling for several seconds, she forced the words out.
"...I never intended to hurt you that badly."
Her shoulders trembled faintly.
"I truly didn’t."
Andras leaned back in his chair.
His expression remained unreadable.
"Oh?"
"So..."
"You’re asking forgiveness from your miscreant brother now?"
Those words struck far harder than if he had shouted.
Seris’s fingers tightened until her knuckles turned white.
"I..."
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
She had no answer.
Andras watched her quietly.
His voice remained calm.
"I think..."
"...it’s a little late for that."
"If you truly wanted to apologize..."
"You would’ve remained in Darkmoor while I lay unconscious."
"You would’ve been there when I finally opened my eyes."
"You would’ve faced me."
He paused.
Instead...
"You left."
"You ran away."
Each sentence landed like another weight upon Seris’s heart.
She slowly closed her eyes.
"...I know."
"I know I did."
Her voice trembled.
"I couldn’t..."
"I couldn’t face you."
"I couldn’t even face Mother."
"Every time I remembered what happened..."
"I felt sick."
Ashamed.
Disgusted with myself."
"So..."
"I ran."
"I convinced myself that giving everyone time to calm down would make things easier."
A bitter smile appeared on her lips.
"It didn’t."
"It only made me feel even more like a coward."
She slowly shook her head.
"...I’ve replayed that day in my mind countless times."
"I remember every moment."
"Every swing."
"Every scream."
"I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again."
Her breathing became slightly uneven.
"I still don’t understand."
"I don’t know why I lost control during that spar."
"I’ve searched for an answer..."
"...but I’ve never been able to find one."
Andras didn’t answer immediately.
Instead...
He simply looked at her.
Silence returned once more.
One second passed.
Then another.
Five.
Ten.
The quiet stretched long enough for Seris to become visibly uncomfortable beneath his unwavering gaze.
She instinctively lowered her eyes.
Unable to meet his.
Finally...
Andras spoke.
"...Tell me something."
Seris slowly looked back up.
"When you first stepped between me and the servants..."
"You wanted to stop me."
She nodded immediately.
"...Yes."
"I couldn’t stand watching innocent people suffer."
"And when we started sparring..."
"You only intended to teach me a lesson."
"...Yes."
"I wanted you to understand that your actions had consequences."
Andras gave a small nod.
"So far..."
"Everything makes sense."
He paused.
His violet eyes never left hers.
"But after I could no longer fight back..."
"When I was already lying on the ground..."
"When I had stopped resisting..."
"...Why did you keep attacking?"
Seris froze.
Her breathing stopped.
The room became deathly silent.
Seris froze.
Her breathing caught in her throat.
The room fell into complete silence.
"...I..."
She opened her mouth.
No words came out.
Her mind instinctively returned to that day.
The training ground.
The servants hiding behind one another in fear.
Andras standing before her with his sword.
At first...
Everything had been exactly as she remembered.
She had only wanted to stop him.
To teach him that abusing those weaker than himself was unacceptable.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Then the duel had begun.
One exchange.
Two.
Three.
She had gradually gained the upper hand.
Andras had started losing ground.
His swordsmanship became increasingly desperate as wounds accumulated across his body.
She still remembered the moment his sword slipped from his grasp.
The moment he fell to one knee.
He had already lost.
It should have ended there.
Yet...
It didn’t.
Instead...
She had taken another step forward.
Then another.
She remembered hearing someone shout.
"Lady Seris!"
"Please stop!"
Another voice followed.
"He’s already unconscious!"
But those voices had sounded distant.
As though they belonged to another world.
All she could hear...
Was the pounding of her own heartbeat.
She remembered raising her sword again.
And bringing it down.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each strike should have been the last.
Yet she had never stopped.
Until...
Everything became black.
Back in the present...
Seris’s hands began trembling uncontrollably.
"I..."
Her voice cracked.
"I don’t know..."
"I truly don’t."
"I’ve asked myself that question countless times."
"I’ve searched for an answer..."
"But..."
She slowly shook her head.
"...I never found one."
Andras quietly watched her.
His expression never changed.
Inside his mind, however...
A forgotten memory surfaced.
Just as I thought.
Back on Earth...
Before his reincarnation...
Seris Darkmoor had been one of the most memorable supporting characters in Rise of the Sword Hero.
Not because she possessed extraordinary strength.
Nor because she was Andras’s sister.
But because she was...
A contradiction.
She was genuinely kind.
She protected commoners.
She respected servants.
She often placed herself in danger to save complete strangers.
No one doubted her kindness.
Yet hidden beneath that kindness...
Lurked another side.
One she herself barely understood.
Whenever she fought someone she sincerely believed deserved punishment...
Something inside her awakened.
The more her opponent suffered...
The more difficult it became for her to stop.
She didn’t enjoy hurting innocent people.
She wasn’t evil.
But when she judged someone to be guilty...
Watching them suffer stirred a darkness buried deep within her heart.
It was a flaw she spent years trying to suppress.
Very few people in the original story ever discovered that truth.
Andras simply happened to know it from the memories of the novel.
Returning to the present, he looked calmly into her eyes.
"I know why."
Seris immediately raised her head.
"...You do?"
He nodded.
"You’re a kind person."
"You stepped in because I was abusing the servants."
"That part wasn’t wrong."
She listened silently.
"And when we began fighting..."
"You only intended to teach me a lesson."
Again...
She nodded.
"...Yes."
"And if the duel had ended when I could no longer fight..."
"You would’ve walked away."
Her fingers tightened.
"...I think so."
Andras continued.
"But that wasn’t the whole story."
His violet eyes met hers.
Steady.
Unwavering.
"The real reason..."
"...is that you’re a sadist."