I Got Married to a Yandere Queen -
Chapter 34 - 33 - A World Torn Asunder
Chapter 34: Chapter 33 - A World Torn Asunder
"You..." Ashtoria’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Why is it... so big?"
Riven nearly choked. ’What the hell?!’ He stared at her, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "You—you really don’t know?"
Ashtoria shook her head, her slender fingers tracing restless circles on the water’s surface. "I’ve never seen a naked man before."
Never—?! Riven exhaled sharply, trying to steady his racing pulse. But it was impossible. Not with Ashtoria still sitting there, her breathtaking figure half-submerged, the lake’s shimmer clinging to curves he shouldn’t be noticing.
"Are you some sheltered noblewoman or something?" he grumbled, though his voice came out weaker than intended.
Ashtoria frowned. "I just didn’t expect it to... be like that."
Riven went silent. Her words settled in his chest like an unexpected weight. Not out of embarrassment—but from the sudden realization of her ignorance. The woman before him... wasn’t just innocent. She might have been shielded. Too long confined in a world of rules, war, or emotional emptiness—so much so that she’d never learned the natural distance between two people.
"You... really don’t know?" he asked quietly, searching her gaze.
Ashtoria lifted her face, meeting his eyes. Hers were as clear as ever, but there was a faint unease beneath them. "Was I supposed to?"
Riven let out a slow breath, not answering. It felt like speaking to someone from another world. Someone who appeared so composed, so mature—yet secretly carried wounds, ignorance, and a loneliness she didn’t even recognize herself.
He turned away, forcing himself to calm down. But the heat in his veins refused to fade—the longer they spoke, the harder it became to ignore the fire coiling inside him. There was admiration, confusion... and something else, something suffocating.
Before his thoughts crossed a line he wasn’t ready to face, he quickly pulled on his clothes, his voice slightly rough as he muttered without looking back, "Don’t stay in too long. You’ll catch a chill."
Ashtoria gave a small nod, saying nothing.
Riven walked away, letting the rustle of grass and the whisper of the wind drown out his restlessness. But his mind... remained at the lakeshore.
The image of Ashtoria’s body, her soft voice, the way her innocent yet painfully honest gaze held his—they swirled in his thoughts like an unbreakable spell.
"Damn it," he murmured under his breath, bowing his head as the night breeze brushed his face. "I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight."
Riven laid his body down on the cold grass, beside the campfire that was starting to die down.
Beside him, Mira was fast asleep, and Ashtoria had yet to return from the lake. The night sky glittered with stars, but his thoughts were far from calm—images of Ashtoria’s naked form and the conversation they had still lingered, refusing to fade.
He let out a deep breath, then placed one hand over his abdomen, and the other at his side. Lying on his back as usual, he began to perform his mana absorption technique—not to strengthen his body this time, but to calm his mind.
The energy in the cold night air slowly seeped into his body. His breathing steadied. His heartbeat slowed. He had no idea how much time passed.
Eventually, without realizing it, the world around him began to blur—and he drifted into sleep.
.
.
.
A starless sky loomed above a desolate cliff, grey and soundless, as though time had abandoned the world.
Riven stood alone on that craggy edge. The ground beneath his feet was dry and cracked, scattered with floating fragments of stone—like the world was on the brink of ruin. A dry wind brushed his face, carrying the scent of iron and scorched earth.
Yet, not far ahead, someone stood with their back to him.
A man. Tall and solidly built, clad in a long, military-style coat that billowed slowly—as if the very air obeyed his presence. In his right hand, he held a long sword. It looked simple, worn... but ancient.
There was something hauntingly familiar about that silhouette.
Riven tried to take a step forward, but his body refused to move. He wanted to speak, but no words left his lips. He could only stare at the man’s back... feeling as though he was staring at a version of himself he had never met.
Suddenly, the man raised his sword over his head. The movement was smooth—effortless. There was no force behind it. No burst of power. Just a slow, deliberate cut through the air.
But that very simplicity made the motion feel absolute.
Perfect.
And when the blade descended—
The world split apart.
The earth stretched before him cracked open with a thunderless groan that echoed in Riven’s chest. The great landmass crumbled, divided by a vast chasm that tore across the horizon. There was no explosion. No magic. Just... understanding.
Riven could hardly believe his eyes. In front of him unfolded a surreal view—two continents torn asunder, a glowing fissure of light flowing between them, like a crack across the heavens.
But his awe didn’t last.
A sharp sound of stone fracturing snapped him back.
He looked down—and saw the ground beneath his feet starting to splinter. The cracks spread fast, creeping like unseen hands.
"No..." he muttered. But it was too late.
He fell.
The wind screamed past his ears. The world spun around him. But amid the chaos, he saw the man turn to face him.
There was no fury in the man’s eyes. No coldness. Just an unshakable calm. Deep, steady—like someone who had seen the truth of the world.
And then the man spoke. His voice didn’t come from his mouth, but from within Riven’s very soul:
"You can cut through anything—if you truly understand it."
.
.
.
Riven awoke with a jolt.
His whole body flinched as if yanked from the bottom of the sea. His breath came in gasps, hot and ragged, like his lungs had just escaped from a battlefield. He sat up, clutching his chest, trying to calm the thunder of his heart, which slammed against his ribs like it wanted to break free.
The night air was still cold—but his skin burned. Sweat drenched his body. Droplets rolled down his temple, his neck, his chest... as though the dream had scorched him from within.
His eyes darted around wildly.
The campfire beside him had dwindled to glowing embers, casting a dim red light across his pale face. The chirping of insects returned, but everything still felt too quiet, like the world itself hadn’t quite accepted him back.
His hand trembled as it touched the ground.
Still here.
Still in the real world.
Still alive.
But the dream hadn’t left him.
Riven shut his eyes, and in the darkness behind his lids, he could still see it—the silent cliff, the descending sword, and the world splitting as if by divine will. And that voice... echoing like a commandment.
"You can cut through anything—if you truly understand it."
Those words struck deeper than any dream he’d ever had. It wasn’t an illusion.
It felt like... a message.
He slowly opened his eyes again.
Gazing up at the stars that blanketed the night sky, his heart was still restless. But in the middle of all that turmoil, something had begun to stir deep within him.
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