Lesta grabbed Rexor Blayne by the hair and lifted his head.

“Why did you turn the village into this?”

Despite his terror, Rexor managed to look disbelieving.

“You… you can talk? I thought you only knew how to answer orders.”

“You, on the other hand, don’t seem to know how to answer at all.”

Rexor gave a short, hollow laugh.

“Well, look at that. You even know how to talk back now.”

Lesta’s gaze, which had been fixed on his eyes, dropped to his fingers.

Those useless fingers were still clinging to his sword.

Realizing that she might t＊rture him, Rexor spoke quickly.

“Duke Blackwood found out that Joubert Welter helped you.”

“Joubert Welter never helped me.”

“The duke ordered him to cut off your limbs and tongue, smash your face and throw you into the sea. But he didn’t cut off a single finger before throwing you in.”

At that, Lesta remembered the last words Joubert Welter had spoken before she sank beneath the waves.

“I’m sorry.”

He had disobeyed a cruel command, yet still apologized to her.

“What happened to Joubert Welter?”

“He’s dead.”

Rexor smirked, as though he had forgotten his fear.

“Defied his master’s orders, he had to die.”

“Even if he had cut off my limbs and tongue, even if he had crushed my face, I would have died all the same, just as the duke commanded.”

“But he didn’t, did he? You’re alive, and the duke’s fears came true. You’re living proof that Blackwood’s luck has run out.”

“I never planned to do anything to Blackwood.”

“Oh, come on! You have feelings now, don’t you? You know how fickle the human heart can be.”

“Was it you, who reported that Joubert Welter didn’t cut off my limbs?”

There had been four people on the ship that day: Joubert Welter, Rexor Blayne, the captain and Lesta.

Rexor Blayne didn’t answer. But his silence was answer enough.

He never begged for forgiveness and Lesta never offered mercy.

Rexor’s skull crumpled in her grasp.

Without bothering to wipe the bl＊＊d from her hand, Lesta rose and turned away, walking towards the village, which was now burning.

She stepped into Hans and Marta’s burning house.

Once, it had been filled with warmth and gentle air.

Now, however, it was thick with the smell of bl＊＊d and smoke.

Inside were Hans, Marta and the carpenter Bram.

He had apparently rushed over to check on them when the chaos began, and met the same fate.

Lesta gazed silently at their bodies sprawled across the floor.

The flames burned her skin, but she didn’t flinch.

She looked at their faces, etching them into her memory, the people who had already become someone to miss.

‘It was real.’

She was born to protect Blackwood’s paradise, and her life had been harder than walking through the fires of h＊ll.

It was only after she came to this village, was saved by its people, and was given the name Lesta, that she realized just how miserable her life had been.

Yet she had never thought of seeking revenge.

The kindness of the people of Ernel had filled the emptiness inside her.

‘I really never meant to take revenge.’

Hans, Marta and the villagers had filled the blank canvas of her life with images of spring blossom, clear blue skies, gentle water, warm sand, autumn leaves and golden sunsets.

They were the ones who had made her world beautiful.

She had forgotten what was written on the back: endless darkness and a bl＊＊d-red curse.

Lesta’s fingers absently brushed against the mark on her back.

It was a sign of the Evil God — a brand burned into those who bore his gift of power, marking a soul destined to be claimed as his toy one day.

“Does it hurt? That red mark on your back.”

For a moment, Lesta thought she could hear Marta’s anxious voice beside her.

She turned her head slightly, knowing that there would be no one there.

Still, she smiled faintly.

“No, it doesn’t hurt, Grandma.”

“If it does, don’t hide it, all right? Promise me you’ll tell us, don’t keep it secret like last time when you were hurt fighting that sea beast.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

“Lesta, let’s arm-wrestle today. This time, I’ll really win!”

“What are you wagering, Bram?”

“Hmm… my life, maybe?”

Lesta suddenly came to her senses and answered the voices in her head.

Her turquoise eyes, which had been fixed on the ceiling, turned to the floor where Hans, Marta and Bram lay.

They were already engulfed in flames, as was she.

Blisters rose and burst across her skin, and her flesh began to burn.

Still, Lesta didn’t blink. She just watched as the bodies of her loved ones lost their shape and turned to ash for the first time.

Once they were nothing but blackened remains, she sank to her knees and gathered their ashes into her arms.

Once, they had smelled of the sea.

Now, all that remained was the stench of smoke.

Only then did it truly hit her, she would never hear their voices again, never smell their scent again, never see their faces again.

It was sorrow, and for the first time since her birth, Lesta experienced it.

But she didn’t know how to express it.

It was as though a stone filled her chest and was bristling with a thousand thorns that tore through her heart and lungs with every breath she took.

The agony of the thorns growing inside her was worse than the fire consuming her body.

She clawed at her chest, trying to tear them out, but the more she scratched, the deeper they dug in.

Hhhk… hhkkk.

Like a wounded beast, she gasped and choked and in the haze of pain, a voice she had never wished to remember surfaced in her mind.

“This is our paradise. You were born to protect it.”

The molten turmoil in her head cooled at once. The thorns in her heart remained, but there was something more important than pulling them out.

Crash!

A burning beam fell from the ceiling.

Lesta raised her arm, blocking the beam, and slowly rose to her feet.

“Remember, our paradise is worth more than your life.”

Their paradise remained untouched. But hers had been consumed by flames.

Lesta looked around the burning house one last time, etching into her memory the warmth that had once filled it.

“I’ll come back someday, Grandpa, Grandma… and you too, Bram.”

The moment Lesta stepped outside, the house behind her collapsed, as though it had been waiting for her to leave.

It was almost as if the villagers had been holding it up until now, just long enough to ensure her safety.

Lesta wanted to believe that.

Without looking back at the falling wreckage, she strode forward, muttering,

“Ha… Blackwood. I’ll kill every last one of you.”

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

The imperial banquet hall of the Lunaris Empire, a thousand-year-old realm, was vast and magnificent, worthy of its name.

It was crowded with nobles from across the empire, and royalty from neighboring kingdoms had travelled long distances to attend this momentous event.

As conversation buzzed through the hall, the voice of an imperial attendant rang out.

“Lord Eldrian Sunray, heir of House Sunray, entering.”

At the mention of his name, the chatter stopped instantly. Every gaze turned towards the grand entrance.

Eldrian strode in with confidence, showing no sign of tension despite the attention. His silver hair gleamed brilliantly under the chandelier’s light.

“That’s him…!”
“His presence is incredible.”
“He’s still so young…”
“Didn’t he bring the wolf with him?”

Whispers of awe and curiosity rippled through the crowd, but Eldrian walked on, seemingly unconcerned.

Many wanted to approach him, but nobody dared. His aura was too commanding.

He stopped at the far end of the hall, in a quiet corner far from the raised dais where few people had gathered.

Leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded, Eldrian fixed his gaze on the elaborately decorated platform.

Even though the others continued to glance his way, none of them approached until a woman did.

Those who rose on tiptoe to see who was approaching the young heir gasped softly when they recognized her.

It was Estella, the daughter of the Marquis of Bellamore.

“If you act friendly with me right now,” Eldrian murmured without moving his lips, “people will think that the Marquis’s daughter, who was rejected as a crown princess candidate, is trying to seduce the Sunray heir.”

Estella scoffed.

“Please. Why would House Bellamore need to seduce Sunray? If it were the famous Blackwood, then maybe.”