I Became The Leader Of A Revolution In A Romance Fantasy

< Chapter 16: The Moon is the Merciless Queen of the Night – 5 >

In the moment of death,

The Grim Reaper comes to everyone.

And the final touch of death, extended to each person, takes on a different appearance.

To some, it appears as a skull.

To others, as an old woman.

To some, it appears as an enemy.

To others, as a family member.

On the night when hesitating Visenya and Eugene’s fingertips first gently intertwined,

It was merely their first time holding hands, but to people like Visenya and Eugene, it carried the weight of binding their fates together.

The silver-haired Count murmured with a cold and merciless face.

‘Is this hand the touch of my Grim Reaper? If so, I would gladly hold onto it.’

By that time, public sentiment was already boiling.

The impending catastrophe that anyone with insight in the kingdom could foresee.

At this point, getting entangled with the royal family was not much different from throwing oneself into the waves of the approaching turbulent times.

The Hastings family, which had held estates across the sea for generations, faced unnecessary danger.

Nevertheless, Eugene Hastings held onto Visenya Andrastra’s hand.

The hand that would lead him to a sweet demise.

And the next day,

Red Dawn arrived.

#
A man lost his reputation, which had once shone like platinum,

Abandoned by all his friends and colleagues,

He spiraled into corruption for a year.

A man colder than anyone else,

A man who was more noble than anyone, and took pride in not hiding it.

– Are you listening? The song of the enraged people! The cry that they will no longer live like slaves!

He became a clown.

Spewing nonsense he didn’t even believe in front of people’s eyes, begging those he despised the most.

– Please give me your attention.

– Please give me just one more vote.

Seeing that desperate show, Visenya realized.

How could one not realize if they had eyes?

The hero’s downfall,

The collapse of Eugene Hastings,

Was all an effort to protect her.

Before the ruthless violence could ravage and destroy everything, he had cut down the revolution and placed himself at the top.

For if Eugene Hastings had not been there, the fate she and the royal family would face was clear.

Ah, so it was something one could understand with a bit more thought.

The night Visenya and Eugene held hands,

– Is this hand the touch of my Grim Reaper.

Perhaps he had already sensed it.

The day the country would be turned upside down was closer than he had thought.

– If so, then I willingly wanted to hold on to it.

And I had resolved.

Even if he were to struggle in a bottomless pit of disgrace, he had someone he wanted to protect.
The great war hero. The darling of the kingdom.

Count Eugene Albert Ulfric Hastings.

To become the head of the monster called revolution, he had cut off his own neck and transplanted it onto the body of the monster—

‘My knight.’

Visenya clasped her hands tightly.

How could she not know?

After all, the current demeanor of ‘Congressman Hastings’—

Wasn’t it exactly the same as the nagging she had always directed at Eugene?

###

Visenya Andrastra.

That she was the protagonist of the original work meant that more than 70% of the narrative was about Visenya.

‘So, once I meet her, it won’t be hard to see through Visenya Andrastra’s intentions.’

I was the editor of the original work.

I knew all of the trivial habits of Visenya that the author obsessively used.

Appearing here was half an impulsive decision and half a strategic one.

For future actions.

Or to understand the new core of the Royalist faction.

Observing Visenya Andrastra was necessary.

But facing Visenya Andrastra—

“Count, you’ve been smiling a lot these days, haven’t you?”

“Mm?”

I instinctively touched my cheek.

Of course, Eugene Hastings before my possession was a typical silver-haired male lead from romance novels.

He was described as being like steel or ice.

Noble, aloof, and imposing.

On the other hand, I was acting as a bright and friendly person, at least for media play.

So, saying ‘you’ve been smiling a lot these days’ wasn’t entirely wrong…

“Heh, as expected of me, right? I told you several times that you’d look much better with a relaxed expression. Hehe.”

“…?”

“You did well to listen to me, didn’t you? You should’ve listened to me sooner, right?”

I looked at Visenya as if seeing a strange creature.

Her chest puffed up, immersed in her own greatness.

She was triumphant, with a face that seemed to think this was only natural…

‘But, her lips are twitching…’

I wanted to point out her cheek, twitching with unhidden satisfaction.

Why does she seem a bit…

Insignificant?

“Uh, hmm.”

I thought I had prepared my mind sufficiently.

A novel serialized in 2024, ‘The Beast of Thermidor,’ had such sparse inner descriptions that it felt like a third-person observer’s perspective.

Furthermore, the practically discarded setting of the ‘Princess who dreamed of becoming the Prime Minister with maxed-out administrative abilities’—a character that had only existed to highlight the female protagonist—was now brought to life, freed from the author’s incompetence.

Combining these two facts, I had prepared for the possibility that Visenya Andrastra might be sharper than I imagined.

‘So I had considered the scenarios where my disguise would be exposed.’

– Traitor!

– How could you do this to me…

– Aaaah! You dirty commie!

Scenarios like these.

‘But from the looks of it… it doesn’t seem like she resents me, does it?’

I glanced at the bush.

The presence I felt from there since earlier definitely held a sharp intent, but it didn’t seem like Visenya had hidden an assassin there to ambush me.

Why on earth?!

I didn’t understand.

If I were Visenya Andrastra, that is.

If the person I believed to be my lover had betrayed my family in such a manner?

I would have armed myself with either an axe or a hammer.

No matter how deep our feelings were.

The deeper the feelings, the greater the anger.

‘Hoo, let’s get a grip.’

I pressed my temples and organized my thoughts.

And when I raised my head.

Visenya Andrastra was still looking at me with a strange expression, a mix of triumph, pride, and wistfulness.

At this moment, the most appropriate opening line could only be one thing.

I opened my mouth.

“Honestly, I feel ashamed.”

Why had this meeting been delayed until now?

Why had I appeared like this, hiding my face?

To answer all those questions, I said,

“In the end, I betrayed the royal family, and you.”

But Visenya tilted her head in confusion.

Between her lemon-colored hair, her strange, demonic eyes that seemed to swirl like a galaxy flashed with insight.

“Why would you say that?”

“?”

She declared.

“In the end, you made sure no one died.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Her eyes, which held light, suddenly made me realize.

‘Those are eyes filled with certainty.’

Since I had performed before the media several times, I knew better than anyone.

Those eyes held the conviction of perceiving some clear truth, whether in the future or the past.
Which meant.

‘Visenya Andrastra is “certain” about what would have happened if I hadn’t intervened?’

This was a level of reasoning far beyond merely predicting various possibilities.

“The fact that the Count is here means that you were the Count of Monte Cristo as well, right?”

“…Well.”

“Hehe, shy boy.”

What?!

Visenya, who had just called a human weapon over 190cm tall ‘cute like a kitten,’ flashed a playful smile.
She then continued speaking as if singing.

Her body swayed with excitement, and she chattered away like a bird.

…Though the content was horrifying.

“I’m not a fool, you know. Do you think I wouldn’t investigate the source of the donations given without any strings attached?”

“What do you mean by source!”

If it could have been uncovered, my neck would have long been in the hands of the Revolutionary Committee!

How on earth did she dig it up?

I was astonished by her abilities that defied common sense, but Visenya didn’t seem to have any intention of using that as a weapon.

She just laughed happily.

“Hehe, shall we pretend it’s not true then?”

Whew.

“Shall we?”

“?!”

Just spare me…

#

I felt completely drained after the short conversation.

I slumped, half dead.

Seeing me like that, Visenya giggled, her eyes twinkling.

“There’s something even I don’t know.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine not knowing.”

Usually, characters with an excess of self-consciousness are incompetent, aren’t they?

Continuously feeding such an intelligent character more information could become unmanageable, in my opinion.

‘For some reason, she seems 100% convinced that my actions stemmed from good intentions…’

But that doesn’t mean I can blindly trust her goodwill as well.

Then I felt a tug on my sleeve.

Visenya, with a pouting expression, was holding onto my sleeve tightly.

“Hey.”

“…”

“Hey hey.”

“…What is it that you don’t know? Let’s hear it.”

It might not be important.

Visenya, trying to conceal her expression as best as she could, nervously fiddled with her lips, her ears turning bright red with excitement.

“Hehe, well. Hmm, what should I ask?”

“…”

“Ah! Why did you continue to support the Royalists?”

“Mm?”

An unexpected question.

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

Visenya, thinking her explanation was insufficient, began to elaborate further.

“At first, I understand why you started. Your heart was still with us, your friends.”

“?”

She was wrong from the beginning.

It was more like a symbolic contribution, similar to a small donation out of humanity.

But Visenya continued speaking without caring.

“But the situation changed in the middle, didn’t it? The old nobles formed a political faction with your donations instead of just surviving. Wasn’t that annoying?”

“Annoying?”

“The Royalists were a political force that would disappear the moment you stopped funding them, right?”

Aha.

I took a moment to organize my thoughts.

Is this something I can talk about?

Or should I keep it hidden?

Even if I stood on my head and thought about it, it seemed unlikely that this would come back to bite me.

More importantly, even if Visenya spread this information somewhere, I was confident that my control over the media was several steps ahead.

I was sure I could win.

After finishing my calculations, I opened my mouth without hesitation.

“The existence of the Royalists isn’t bad for me either. In fact, it’s a good thing.”

“Huh?”

“It keeps you from uniting as one.”

“!”

I saw Visenya’s clear eyes widen in shock.

The look in her eyes must have been similar to how mine were when I saw her uncover the Count of Monte Cristo’s funding route.

Just now, I realized.

‘When it comes to political calculations, I have the upper hand.’

In other words, Visenya Andrastra’s abilities are focused on economics and administration, fitting for a bureaucrat.

It’s a bit different from my direction.

I thought that just this realization made today’s trip worthwhile, and I continued my explanation.

“If you broadly divide the political landscape of the Republic into conservatives and progressives, it becomes surprisingly difficult to count the votes. Depending on the issue, there will be times when we temporarily lose the majority. Especially if the issue of the ‘old era’ becomes completely irrelevant in the political arena.”

“…But as long as the Royalists exist…”

“Exactly. As long as you’re active, the conservatives must bear the shadow of the kingdom like a burden. And whenever a problem arises, we can attack by saying it happened because the old-era elite ruined the country.”

“Unless the conservatives completely abandon the idea of restoring the monarchy… they can’t win the vote.”

I smiled.

“You can tell this to your Royalist friends if you’d like.”

“…Because it will cause another division?”

“Exactly.”

Dividing is not something to be done only to the electorate. If you can successfully split the opposing party itself, you can steer the political landscape in your favor while minimizing the expenditure of political capital.

#

The meeting ended like that.

After Eugene Hastings disappeared once again in his ridiculous disguise, Visenya spoke towards the bushes.

“Milmil, you can come out now.”

“…”

With a swoosh, Camille Roche appeared.

Drenched in sweat, she tried to kneel before her master but collapsed right there.

“Oh, Milmil!”

“I-I’m fine. I apologize for causing you concern.”

The voice of the usually valiant and dignified knight trembled.

Eugene Hastings.

‘He’s a monster beyond the rumors.’

Camille Roche’s nerves were frayed from extreme tension as she hid in the shadows, observing the situation.

No matter where she moved, she was followed by a terrifying sensation.

The sharp instincts of that swordsman were like being sliced all over with a razor, and she couldn’t escape that keen gaze no matter what she did.

Visenya sighed in pity.

“Agh, I told you it’s fine.”

“…I was not fine.”

When the servant, left alone with the princess, suddenly stripped off and transformed into that treacherous defector she loathed so much.

Camille nearly jumped out and cut him down immediately.

But what stopped her hand on the hilt was neither her master’s command nor her own reason,

‘What kind of look is that!’

Eugene Hastings had immobilized Camille Roche with just a glance.

The overwhelming gap in power between them was like that of a human weapon.

Visenya smiled with concern and patted Camille’s shoulder.

“Milmil. Now do you understand? The Count has taken on the role of the villain to protect me. So, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“…Princess.”

Camille still couldn’t accept it.

So she resolved.

‘I will see it with my own eyes.’

Eugene Hastings.

The sinister intentions of that devious man!