Because she had been crying so hard, Mahina couldn’t catch her breath, and her throat choked on the backflow of tears and saliva.
She began to cough violently, her body convulsing from the lack of oxygen.
Unable to support herself any longer, she slumped powerlessly against the edge of the table and collapsed onto the cold floor.
Even as she fell, she held the letter high, refusing to let it touch the dust on the ground.
“Merlin… you idiot…”
Even the cheapest stationery was a small fortune for those living in the Slums.
The two of them working themselves to the bone for one day might not even earn that much…
Even so, Merlin had insisted on writing to her.
They had been separated for two years, yet she had written 700 letters. She had truly written almost every single day.
Was Merlin eating well? Was she resting?
As someone who had lived in the Slums, Mahina knew very well how massive an expense it was to spend money on stationery every day.
How could she have even doubted a Merlin like this?
To write those letters, Merlin might have been eating scavenged food or staying up all night brewing Potions.
Tears of remorse gathered into a small puddle on the floor, reflecting Mahina’s current disheveled face.
‘Merlin… Merlin… you’re really so foolish…’
‘I’m such a jerk… I’m sorry.’
Mahina continued to read like that, tirelessly and hungrily devouring Merlin’s letters.
Yet, despite reading from dawn until late at night, she hadn’t managed to get through many.
Mahina could not forgive herself.
As she looked at the letters Merlin had written to her, she felt both blissful and agonized.
The stationery in her hand carried Merlin’s past, pure, and transparent love. Every word radiated a dizzying sense of happiness.
But the more intense that happiness became, the more vivid the memory of that tearing pain in the depths of the Dungeon became.
Happiness had become the most potent poison.
True… someone had been sowing discord.
But that was no excuse for Mahina’s innocence.
If Mahina had chosen to believe in Merlin until the end, if she had chosen to get to the bottom of things…
Would she have been able to smile more naturally when she received these 700 letters?
In a trance, Mahina seemed to see another version of herself from a parallel timeline.
That version of herself was in a perfectly ordinary street, standing on a sun-drenched windowsill at home. She was waving a piece of stationery with a reserved but irrepressible smirk of happiness on her face, teasing the Merlin beside her:
“Hmph, I told you Merlin would write to me. After all, she loves me more than anyone else in the world.”
“Really, you like me that much? Isn’t it a bit of an exaggeration? You actually wrote 700 letters? Are you an idiot? I really can’t deal with you.”
“Haha, what is this? This part is way too cheesy; your writing style is a total failure! But… since you worked so hard, I’ll reluctantly accept your love, Merlin.”
If she had held on until the end, would she have been able to say those things with a smile? Would she have been able to read these letters with her head held high?
Would she… have been able to be with Merlin with a smile?
Would she… have avoided hurting her heart?
The fantasy popped like a soap bubble, and cold air rushed back into her lungs.
The version of herself in her fantasy smiled brightly and righteously.
She could puff out her chest and proudly declare her sovereignty; she could hug her happiness with a smile.
“Ugh…”
Now, what right did she have to say those things?
‘If only I had known sooner…’
If that were the case, Mahina would never have left Merlin, even if there were misunderstandings.
Back then, Merlin had been everything to that little girl.
If Merlin had even sacrificed her power and health for her…
How could Mahina have the face to act so temperamental?
Why had she been so dramatic?
It was because… Mahina was terrified of being hurt, too cowardly to have the courage to confirm the truth.
Mahina sniffled and continued reading Merlin’s letters.
She read while she cried. Her vision blurred, and she wiped it dry, only for it to be soaked with tears again.
As she read, Mahina could no longer control her tears. Belated happiness and past pain intertwined.
It caused her heart to ache with a wringing pain, and her throat was so dry she couldn’t make a sound. She was forced to stop and rest.
But even when she stopped reading, her longing would not cease.
She began to imagine what the weather was like on the day Merlin wrote this letter.
Was she lying on a dusty floor, or was she using the faint light of a candle?
When she wrote the words “I miss you,” was she frowning or wearing a bittersweet smile?
Mahina even began to deduce Merlin’s entire daily routine for those days, thinking hopelessly:
‘If I had been there too, if I had been in that dilapidated little house, would the days have been more interesting?’
Mahina was also afraid. If she finished reading these letters, would it be over?
Because happy times might never come again, and she could only live by gnawing on the past.
The more she thought this way, the more reluctant she was to keep reading. The more she cherished every word on the paper and scrutinized every sentence, the more her heart ached.
Would Merlin ever write to her again using such loving language? Would she ever look at her again with those eyes as gentle as water?
Just imagining the current, soft Merlinlia standing beside someone else and smiling at them made Mahina feel like she was going crazy.
Because that smile might never belong to her again.
“Haaa…”
Mahina clutched her hair and let out a low growl that bordered on a breakdown.
Just imagining that scene made her feel like she was losing her mind.
Jealousy, fear, anxiety, anger, resentment, and regret.
They gnawed at her sanity like venomous snakes.
“Ahaha… this must be retribution.”
Mahina laughed dryly, but her tears flowed even harder.
Merlin had also said that seeing Mahina always full of smiles for other classmates while being cold to her made her feel wronged—like she was less than an ordinary classmate.
Yes… Mahina understood now. It really… it really felt so unfair and painful.
If Merlin woke up soon and treated her the same way, Mahina would definitely suffer beyond measure, wishing she were dead.
But…
Mahina closed her eyes in pain.
She couldn’t do it.
That night she had brushed Merlin off, that night she had hurt her.
It was because she had been too afraid back then.
If she didn’t force herself to be cold, if she didn’t force herself to speak harsh words to Merlin, her already wavering heart probably would have softened in an instant.
She always tried to use the most hurtful methods to suppress the overwhelmed love in her heart.
She had used her own reputation to slap Merlin when school started, making things difficult for her at the Academy.
When she saw the Starlit Rose being sold, Mahina felt a sense of betrayal again and deliberately poked at Merlin’s greatest sore spot—the pain of having no Magic Power.
She had even wanted to drive her out of the Academy, leading to that bet…
She was still making excuses.
Even though she had hurt Merlin, hadn’t Merlin risked her life to protect her?
And Mahina had done nothing for Merlin since then.
Mahina pulled herself together and treasurefully placed the read letters back into their envelopes. She carefully applied preservative and drying treatments before putting them into her Magic Pocket.
Even so, even so.
Mahina felt compelled to read these letters as if she were addicted.
These were all the evidence that Merlin loved her.
Even when she told herself it was time to rest.
The moment Mahina closed her eyes, her mind was filled with Merlin.
The times when the two of them relied on each other, poor but happy.
The times she missed Merlin on the Battlefield, living only to return to her side.
The times she hurt Merlin, causing her such pain in the cave that she abandoned her Love.
Once she started thinking, she couldn’t stop. Her mind was a mess, and she tossed and turned.
Ultimately, she could only light the lamp again and continue reading the letters.