The Hero Stole My Lover, So I Decided to Steal the Hero's Lover Instead - Chapter 48-49

Chapter 48: Sheryl’s POV

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From her position, what vulnerable spot could she reach? Where could she aim… Or at least, where she could easily aim?

There’s only one place…

A thought came to her mind and she set her sights—on that one spot. If she thrust him there, it wouldn’t kill him, but it could deal a critical blow (in a lot of ways). She could really make him suffer. Maybe even make him foam at the mouth and pass out, she thought.

Sheryl planted her left hand on the floor to steady her wobbling body, then swiftly thrust her right hand toward her target.

“—Ah!?”

Cain had been raising the kitchen knife to strike, but he was startled by Sheryl’s sudden movement. He tried to stop his attack mid-motion and dodge her. But—

“You’re too slow!”

The knife she thrust pierced straight between Cain’s legs. A man’s vital point—just as crucial as the head or the heart—the groin.

Thud.

“Gyaaah!?”

With a shrill, high-pitched scream, Cain clutched his crotch and collapsed in agony, writhing on the ground. His breath came in ragged gasps—huff, huff, huff. Tears streamed down his face.

“Ah… Ahahahahaha…”

Sheryl laughed in a hoarse voice.

Serves you right!

If she could just land another blow—or two—to his completely exposed back… She could kill him. She could kill him! Summoning the last of her strength, she tried to move. But then—

“A—aaaah, AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Cain let out a beastly scream. And in the next instant, a kitchen knife was driven into Sheryl’s chest.

“…Ah.”

Death. Her consciousness began to blur, to slip away. Cain was hurling curses at her, but she couldn’t make out the words. She couldn’t hear them. His screaming face faded and vanished. She couldn’t see anymore.

Ah… I’m going to die…

She had thought she didn’t want to die. She had wanted to live more. And yet, her heart was at peace. She felt the calmest she’d ever felt in her life.

In the final moments of her life, what came to mind… What replayed in her thoughts like a revolving lantern were the days she had spent with her former lover, Luke. They hadn’t been fulfilling, just dull and ordinary days.

She had wanted excitement. She had wanted money. She had wanted status. She had wanted happiness.

Greedy Sheryl had tried to have it all. She had thrown away Luke and chose Cain, the Hero. She had willingly abandoned her life with Luke. But after losing it all, it had finally dawned on her.

How wonderful those days had been.

Now she understood. She should never have let go of those days. But if she hadn’t lost them, she would never have realized how precious they were. That was why, there was never a future where she married Luke and lived happily. Such a future didn’t exist.

And yet—

She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened… If she had chosen that impossible future.

Luke… I’m sorry…

Sheryl’s apology would never reach Luke. But even so, she had to say it. It was just for her self-satisfaction. The final self-satisfaction of her life.

Having reached her peace, Sheryl departed for the realm of the dead. Her face in death was utterly serene.

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Chapter 49: The Hero’s POV

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“…Hey. Hey, Sheryl…!”

Cain shook Sheryl’s body, but there was no response. He placed a hand over her heart. It had already stopped beating. That meant she was dead.

“Damn it! I… I killed her…!”

Cain clutched his head, then immediately groaned from the pain. For now, he had to set Sheryl aside. The more pressing issue was the multitude of wounds on his back, arms, chest… And groin. If he didn’t get treatment soon, he would die.

“Anita… I need to go to Anita…”

Anita, the Saint of their party. Her healing magic was among the most effective in the Holy Kingdom. If it was her, she could surely heal all of Cain’s wounds completely. Cain stripped off his blood-soaked clothes and changed, then, grimacing in pain, began crawling his way toward Anita.

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When he arrived at Anita’s house, Cain banged on the door violently. He had no time for manners. This was an emergency. If she wasn’t home, he’d be plunged into despair, but fortunately, she was.

“Who is it?”

A calm, gentle voice called out from behind the door. Normally, Cain found Anita’s voice pleasant, but in his current state of panic, it only irritated him.

“It’s me! Cain! Open up!”

“I’m terribly sorry, but I’m in the middle of something…”

“This is an emergency! I was stabbed with a kitchen knife! I’m seriously hurt!”

As he shouted and pounded on the door, Anita seemed to grasp the severity of the situation. She unlocked the door and opened it. Anita stood there in nothing but a towel, her appearance suggestive.

So that’s what she meant by ‘in the middle of something’…

She had brought a man home to fool around. Her flushed face turned pale the moment she saw Cain. The clean clothes he had changed into were now stained red with blood seeping from his wounds.

“Oh my… Th-this is terrible!”

Supporting Cain’s swaying body, Anita led him to the bed. There was a small boy on the bed, but when Cain shot him a glare, the boy grabbed his clothes and rushed out in a panic.  He looked to be in his early teens. Cain recalled that Anita’s taste leaned toward boys younger than himself—innocent, childlike ones. 

Cain collapsed onto the bed. Anita immediately cast a healing spell. A soft, pale light enveloped his wounds and began to mend them. It seemed he would survive after all. Cain let out a breath of relief. Now that the pain had lessened, he had the mental space to think.

His thoughts turned to Sheryl.

To think she’d actually try to kill me…

When she’d asked, “I just want to kiss you one last time,” he had felt something off, something dangerous. But he brushed it off as his imagination, and gave in to desire, kissing her anyway. His tongue hadn’t been bitten off. His groin hadn’t been severed.

He would probably make a full recovery. He had to make a full recovery.

Damn it! Damn it!

Sheryl’s corpse was still lying in her house. If he left it there, it would begin to rot and reek and then, someone would definitely find out. He had to deal with it quickly.

Burn it? Bury it? Sink it…?

As he considered how to dispose of the body, drowsiness overtook him, and Cain drifted off to sleep. In the midst of the hatred he held toward Sheryl, not a shred of remorse or guilt crossed his mind.

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