The Swordswoman's Revenge Story after Rebirth

apter 48 Doug Is Her Master

Eleanor was carried down the mountain, while Michelle and Matilda were sent away ahead of time.

The officials who had arrived that day had all departed–save for Tyler.

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It wasn’t that Tyler couldn’t leave, he simply refused to walk alongside them. Only after everyone else had gone did he finally bid farewell.

Geoffrey personally escorted him to the gates of the manor.

The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the entire estate in a warm, gentle glow, casting long, soft shadows across the countryside.

But Tyler remained still, his gaze locked onto Geollrey. His voice, carrying a note of resination, broke the

silence. “Geoffrey…. how did it come to this?

Tyler sighed, clapping a hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder.

“When the case first arose. I deliberately delayed the trial. I had my men summon you here, hoping your presence alone would be enough to deter those in the estate from giving false testimony. Anyone with half a mind could see that this was a setup meant to frame Isolde. And yet… you didn’t see it? You arrived and acted without even questioning the case.”

With that, Tyler shook his head and turned away.

Geoffrey watched him go, his figure disappearing into the lengthening shadows. He turned his gaze toward the courtyard, where the jujube trees cast flickering silhouettes under the fading sunlight.

Everyone had seen through the trap. Everyone–except him.

He stood there for a long time before finally making his way back inside. But when he entered the hall, Doug, Oliver, and Isolde were nowhere to be seen.

Oliver stood at the edge of the pavilion, overlooking the distant reservoir.

With his height, he could just make out the rippling waters, the marks along the bank where Michelle had been dragged under.

Doug sat on a large boulder by the reservoir. Before him, Isolde knelt, her posture rigid, her body. unwavering–but her tears fell freely, one after another, in silent, unstoppable streams.

To see her master again… it felt like a lifetime had passed.

her previous life, before she had died–Doug had already been

was cold, detached. “I’m not dead

harder, her sobs escalating into

carried alone–upon seeing her

out, patting her back gently. “What’s wrong with you, girl?” he muttered. “You were a little tyrant back in Windermount, sharp as

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only cried harder.

Oliver, a

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to. From the footsteps, from the faint breath, he knew exactly who it was

Geoffrey, Oliver said

to Doug, weeping. His

a word, he turned and walked away. But after only a few steps, he hesitated. Turning back, he asked Oliver, his voice grave, “Oliver, tell me one thing, and

stirred

known beforehand… would you still have been able to tell, at a glance, that

a flicker of irony flashed–too brief for anyone to catch. “Known beforehand?” he echoed. “Vincenzo came to Southern Watch, seeking out Mr. Becker, pleading for Isolde’s rescue. We had no

why? Why were you and Mr. Becker so certain Isolde had been wrongfully accused?”

speaking. “It seems,” he said finally, “that you don’t understand her at all.” “I’ve only met her a handful of times, but even I know this–she knows how to fight. If she had truly wanted Eleanor dead, she would have simply abducted her, taken her to some desolate place, and finished the job however she pleased. “But instead, she supposedly pushed Eleanor into the water–right in front of a crowd of

heat of the moment. A crime

a fight unless she was absolutely certain she could win–because she knows that, if she did, there

he asked, “Mr. Becker

protective. He wouldn’t allow anyone to harm Isolde. “When Vincenzo arrived, Mr. Becker had just returned to Argentum. The Queen Mother sent someone to summon him, yet

rational. He wouldn’t have done this unless–at the very least–he

for a moment before finally saying. “Yes, you have

silent for a long time before staggering away.

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Is Her