Delia's POV

"Albert, if someone must die, let it be me!"

Confronting the imposing Albert, I replied loudly.

As I responded to him, I retrieved the concealed knife I took when I left the camp.

Before Albert could react, I plunged the knife into my chest.

A wave of excruciating pain surged through me, and I felt a liquid splatter onto my hand.

Undoubtedly, it was my own blood spilling out.

I had expected to lose consciousness from the pain, but I didn't faint. My awareness remained remarkably clear.

I felt warmth on my neck and, lowering my gaze, I discovered that the blood flowing from my wound wasn't all...