The Male Lead isn't Following the Script!
Chapter 278: A Break

Chapter 278: A Break

Adeline had no time to waste.

The revelation burned in her mind, setting every thought ablaze. She could fix this. She could bring them back.

Dimitri was inaccessible, buried within the depths of the Mage Tower. Cassian was entangled in his impending engagement to Annora. That left Benedict.

Benedict had not left the capital.

Good.

She clenched her fists, her body thrumming with purpose as she stormed toward the Northern Duke’s estate. If there was even a chance—a single, fragile chance—that her holy powers could heal him, then she had to try. She had to undo the grip of forbidden magic that had stolen him from her.

She arrived at the grand estate early next morning, its towering walls casting imposing shadows beneath the sky. The guards at the front entrance immediately stiffened at the sight of her.

Adeline took a deep breath. Calm. Composed. Controlled. He would not refuse her right? Right? They were childhood friends... Like Cassian said the other day.

"I need to see the Duke," she said, voice firm. "Tell him it’s urgent."

The guards exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward, blocking her path.

"My lady, the Duke is not receiving visitors."

Her temper flared.

"He’ll make an exception for me."

The guards remained unmoved.

"Leave."

Her jaw clenched.

"I’m not leaving," she ground out.

The guards did not care.

They didn’t care that she was of noble blood. They didn’t care that she was once someone Benedict trusted. They simply held their ground, their expressions impassive. They followed the orders of the Northern Duke only.

They were aware of how close Adeline and Benedict used to be, but that was in the past. If their master ordered them to not allow her in, they will refuse to allow her in. The consequences did not matter to them.

And Adeline—Adeline, who had fought tooth and nail just to survive in this world—felt a rage so sharp it nearly cut her open.

They were stopping her.

She was so close to figuring out how to break the damn mind control, and yet here they were—keeping her away.

Her fingers twitched, sparks of lightning crackling at her fingertips.

But before her rage could boil over—

The doors opened.

Adeline stilled.

A familiar figure emerged, his sharp eyes landing on her with a gaze colder than the northern winters.

Benedict.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She had so much to say.

So much to do.

But then—

He laughed.

A low, mocking laugh.

Adeline’s stomach twisted.

"Pathetic," Benedict said.

Adeline’s nails dug into her palms.

"Excuse me?"

"You just don’t know when to give up, do you?" He said, stepping closer, his every movement deliberate, piercing.

Her breath caught.

He looked like himself.

But his eyes.

They were wrong.

Cold. Detached.

Not the same Benedict who had once trusted her.

The realisation struck her like a blade to the gut. It never gets easier

She forced herself to stay calm.

"I need to speak with you," she said. "It’s important."

Benedict scoffed.

"I don’t have time to entertain the whims of a spoiled, pathetic girl."

Her pulse pounded.

Spoiled.

Pathetic.

The words shouldn’t have hurt and they didn’t. She was so done with them. Their words did not hurt, their indifference did. As for pathetic, she knew herself, she was far from pathetic, everything she went through... She tried her best to stay strong.

"Benedict," she tried again, her voice softer. "Just—listen to me—"

"Why?" He cut her off, his tone mocking. "So you can waste more of my time? So you can cling to me and Cassian like some desperate fool?"

Adeline froze.

She was frustrated, his fists balled. She wished she could throw a punch at this man. She had been trying her best but to no avail.

"What?" She whispered.

Benedict took another step forward.

"You think I don’t see it?" he sneered. "How desperate you are? Running between me and Cassian—pathetically trying to hold onto us, even when we want nothing to do with you."

His words were like poisoned knives.

Every syllable carved into her, deeper and deeper, until she swore she felt herself bleeding.

"Benedict," she choked out.

He wasn’t stopping.

"You were always a joke," he said, his voice like ice. "The dumb, useless daughter of a Marquess, pretending to be important. Annora—"

He smirked.

"She’s better than you in every way."

The world tilted.

For a moment, Adeline forgot how to breathe.

Her vision blurred, not from tears—but from something far worse.

Rage.

Not at Benedict.

At whoever had done this to him.

At whoever had twisted him into this.

Benedict was not this person.

Not the man who sneered at her like she was nothing.

Not the man who looked through her as if she had never meant anything.

Something inside her snapped.

"Is that so?" She murmured, her voice dangerously soft.

Benedict raised an eyebrow.

Adeline lifted her hand.

The golden glow of holy power crackled to life in her palm.

Benedict’s expression shifted.

The moment was brief—so brief that anyone else might have missed it.

But she didn’t.

She saw the way his body tensed.

She saw the way his fingers twitched, as if on instinct.

Adeline stepped forward.

And for the first time—

Benedict took a step back.

A slow, sharp smile curled at her lips.

"You can insult me all you want," she said, voice eerily steady. "But let’s see what happens when I do this."

She pressed her glowing palm against his chest.

And pushed.

Holy power surged forward—crashing into him like a tidal wave.

Benedict staggered.

His breath hitched—his body tensed violently.

Adeline’s heart pounded.

Would it work?

Would it—

A sudden, sharp force threw her back.

She hit the ground hard, her vision spinning.

When she looked up, Benedict was breathing heavily, his hand gripping his chest where she had touched him.

His expression was unreadable.

But for the briefest moment—the briefest, fleeting second—

She saw it.

Uncertainty.

A crack in the carefully constructed wall of indifference.

It wasn’t enough.

But it was something.

Adeline slowly got to her feet.

She met his gaze.

"I’ll be back," she said.

Benedict’s hands clenched at his sides.

Adeline smiled.

A sharp, knowing smile.

And then—

She turned and walked away.

Adeline’s breath was unsteady as she stepped away from Benedict, her mind racing.

She had felt it.

The moment her palm had pressed against his chest, the moment her holy power surged into him—she had felt something pull at her.

It wasn’t like when she healed wounds. This was different. More unnatural. More consuming.

As if something inside Benedict had latched onto her power—hungry for it.

Draining it.

Her body trembled slightly from the aftershock.

It had happened so fast that she barely had time to process it. But she knew, deep in her bones, that if she had poured more power into him, she wouldn’t have been able to stop.

It would have taken everything. But, didn’t the Goddess tell her that her power was infinite... Should she try again?

She wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

For now, she forced herself to remain calm, to think.

No one had noticed.

No one had seen what she had done.

Her holy power had flared for just a second—too quick, too subtle for anyone in the estate to realise. The guards had been watching the exchange, but they were too far away to notice the glow in her palm.

And Benedict—

Her gaze flickered toward him.

He was still standing there.

His breath was heavier, his fingers twitching at his sides. His usual composure had cracked, just for a moment.

Did he feel it too?

Did he know what she had done?

Adeline’s pulse pounded.

Even if he did—who would believe him?

Benedict had always viewed her as nothing more than a spoiled noble’s daughter, a petty villainess who schemed and whined but lacked any real ability.

No one—not him, not Cassian, not anyone—had ever thought her capable of wielding holy power.

And that worked in her favour.

Because if they didn’t believe it, then they wouldn’t see it coming.

She had one shot at this.

Benedict was proof that it could work—if she could just find a way to exhaust enough power. But that amount...

It would be dangerous.

Adeline clenched her fists, suppressing the tremor in her fingers. She needed a way to get close to Benedict. He would not let her come near him, she knew that there would be an engagement ceremony... Because of course there would.

The Emperor would gladly make a show of it.

She cast one final glance at Benedict before turning away, walking off without another word.

She could feel his gaze lingering on her back.

And for the first time in a long time, Adeline wasn’t afraid.

She knew the solution, she did not feel as helpless as before. She had a way out.

Her mind drifted to the thought of Cassian’s engagement again. She was angry, she was sad. This happened in the original story, she promised herself she would stay away from the male leads and yet... She found herself in the position she told herself she would not be in.