I Only Want Three Things After Rebirth

Brock Wells once told me I was his only wife.

Later, I died in childbirth, my blood staining the sheets beneath me, along with the life of my unborn child.

"It's okay for her to die. After all, what right does she have to give birth to Brock's child?"

When I woke up again, I was back in Mogon.

I was reborn.

Staring at the endless expanse of sand, I swore.

In this life, I would make Brock pay with his life.

1.

"Lise? You're awake?"

I opened my eyes to see Thea Barrett, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat, panting slightly.

I turned to look at my younger brother, who had died in my previous life, utterly stunned. "What year is it now?"

"Lise, what are you talking about? It's 3 BC."

I clutched the blanket tightly, struggling to accept the truth. I was reborn.

In 3 BC, the war between Plains and Mogon had been raging for a year and a half.

My parents had been lost to the ravages of war.

At this point in time, I had yet to meet Brock.

Brock...

I turned my head away, fighting back tears.

Back then, I had been pregnant and had no choice but to follow Brock back to Plains.

In recognition of Brock's military achievements, the king bestowed upon him a marriage decree.

"Lise, I cannot refuse the king's decree."

I was bullied by Tatiana Glyn in Brock's home.

After Brock entered Plains, he launched a massive attack on Mogon without hesitation.

In the end, I ended up dying of depression, and my kid died in the womb.

I must take revenge!

2.

Thea's chatter faded into the background as I stared blankly out the window, lost in my thoughts.

The night before I followed Brock to Plains, Thea died.

My only concern in Mogon was gone just like that.

He had managed to get his hands on a roasted goose and snuck out of the military camp late at night to bring it home to me, only to be intercepted halfway by Brock's men.

He slowly lost his life in the quicksand he knew best.

I closed my eyes slowly, the anger and hatred buried deep within me threatening to spill over.

"I'm fine now, aren't I? How are things in the camp?" I cleared my throat, my voice still hoarse.

Thea helped me sit up and turned away to pour water.

"Same as always. Nothing much. Well... but recently, a young general arrived. I think his name is Nolan... wait... Nolan Yates. That's it! He's incredibly brave and skilled in battle. Under his leadership, the soldiers' morale has soared, and the enemy is retreating on all fronts."

I took the water pouch he handed me and frowned slightly.

Why didn't I have any impression of this person in my previous life?

"Go back now. It'll be troublesome if you stay too late." I spoke softly, asking no further questions.

After Thea left, I struggled to get out of bed.

Looking around at the familiar surroundings, my eyes stung with unshed tears.

3.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door. "Is anyone home?"

That voice... I snapped back to reality, the despair in my eyes replaced by hatred.

I knew that voice all too well.

"Thud, thud, thud..."

It felt as though a hand had gripped my heart tightly, making it hard to breathe.

I glanced around the room, my gaze landing on the dagger on the cutting board.

"Is anyone home?"

I hurriedly hid the dagger in my sleeve and opened the door.

It was as if I were seeing an old acquaintance after a long time. He stood there in military attire, his sharp features now darker from the sun.

I clenched the dagger hidden in my sleeve.

"I'm just a wanderer passing through. Could I trouble you for some water?"

"Wait here."

I shut the door and leaned against it, feeling weak.

In my previous life, Brock had been betrayed by his own men, gravely injured, and hiding at the foot of Rock Mountain to escape pursuit.

Why had he come knocking on my door this time?

I put the dagger down and took a deep breath.

I couldn't kill him so rashly. There was a woman living in Plains waiting for me.

I opened the door and handed Brock a water pouch. "The wind and sand are harsh outside. You might as well come in."

"Sorry to trouble you, miss. I've been walking for a long time and only just found your house."

I silently tapped my finger on the table.

If I hadn't lived through a lifetime and seen his true nature, I might still have been fooled by this seemingly sincere man, spouting lies with such ease.

I stared at the Mogon military uniform he wore, a pang of pain stabbing through my heart.

I had witnessed Brock's talent for tormenting people.

How many soldiers could endure such brutal and inhumane torture?

"If you're a wanderer, why are you wearing military attire?" I raised an eyebrow, displeased.

Brock paused mid-sip, then smiled faintly. "My family was buried in the sands because of the war. I put on this outfit for my own protection."

"I see. The shifting sands at night can swallow a person whole. Where are you headed?" Though I pressed him with questions, he remained calm.

"Miss, have you heard of Rock Mountain?"

The wind howled outside, but the room was eerily quiet.

Rock Mountain was where Mogon's army was stationed.

"You're going there to join the army?" I shifted my gaze from the candlestick on the table to his face. "I don't know where Rock Mountain is. I've only heard it's the only oasis in Mogon."

"In that case..." Brock tossed the water pouch to the floor and clapped his hands.

A group of men, their faces covered with black scarves, appeared silently at the door and windows.

"Then I'll wait until you remember."

4.

Brock's face suddenly loomed close, his hand gripping my jaw with just enough force to hurt. Then he turned and gave an order. "Take her to Vermo."

I laughed coldly in my heart. I had guessed right.

Vermo, a place was a natural fortress, easy to defend, hard to attack.

As an unfavored prince, Brock was desperate to prove himself.

He had volunteered to lead troops to Mogon, and naturally, he would choose such a location.

But there was one problem. Vermo's steep terrain made it nearly impassable, and supplies could only be stored at the base of the mountain.

Brock strode out of the room, and I glanced back at the cutting board.

The cutting board was carved into it were the words. "Vermo, where the supplies are stored."

5.

In the damp, dark dungeon, the air reeked of blood and waste...

I was nailed to a rack, my tendons severed.

Brock before me swirled the coffee in his cup, sipping it.

Suddenly, I remembered my past life.

He pretended to be a Mogon soldier then.

In the desolate sands, he had told me I was his only wife.

The starry sky and my shy look were all reflected in his eyes.

"Alright." I raised my head, and the him in my memory of my past life gradually overlapped with the him in front of me at this moment.