Chapter 2

“Kenneth!”

Kenneth dismounted his horse and immediately drew his sword, slashing across the monster’s body. The sharp blade cut deep into its chest. Startled by the sudden arrival of a savior, Viscount Cailon quickly followed up, severing one of the beast’s remaining arms.

Their attacks rained down relentlessly. What had been a struggle for Cailon alone began to turn as Kenneth joined the fight. The monster, overwhelmed, began to falter.

In a last, desperate attempt, the beast let out a roar and lunged toward Viscount Cailon with its mouth wide open. Already wounded, Cailon couldn’t dodge in time—but Kenneth shoved him out of the way and drove his blade into the creature’s heart.

With a final groan, the monster’s massive body collapsed to the ground. Once it stopped moving, Cailon exhaled heavily in relief. Clutching his wounded side, he sat up and took deep breaths.

“Thank you, Kenneth. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Cailon was truly grateful Kenneth had arrived just in time. Even if Riden had made it to town, he doubted help would have come quickly—or willingly. They had all narrowly escaped death.

He stared at the monster’s corpse with confusion.

‘This doesn’t make sense. Why was a monster in a central forest like this? Has the barrier collapsed? Did it find a crack and slip through?’

While such incidents had happened occasionally, it was extremely rare for a monster to show up this deep within the Empire’s safe zone. He resolved to return to the duchy and discuss the matter with Duke Vinzetten.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Cailon turned to Kenneth.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Kenneth gave a small smile and shook his head, reassuring him.

“But Kenneth… how did you even get here? Did something happen at the duchy—?”

Kenneth shook his head and then reached for a small pouch on his belt, pulling out a tiny box.

Cailon, curious as to what it was that had saved his family, opened the box—only to find it completely empty.

Puzzled, he looked up just in time to see Kenneth draw his blood-stained sword from the monster’s corpse.

And then, without hesitation, Kenneth plunged the corrupted blade—still emanating dark energy—straight into Viscount Cailon’s chest.

“F-Father!”

“My love!”

Shrill cries tore from Riden and Elicia.

As Kenneth withdrew his blade, crimson blood gushed from Viscount Cailon’s chest.

Riden couldn’t believe what he was seeing—Kenneth, his longtime friend, had stabbed his father through the heart. The horrifying image blurred like a dream.

Kenneth slowly turned toward Elicia. Blood dripped from his sword, forming a trail on the ground.

Even as death crept closer, Elicia couldn’t tear her empty gaze away from her husband’s lifeless body.

“Kenneth!”

Riden shouted his name in anguish and lunged at him. But charging at an armed man unarmed was futile.

With no hesitation, Kenneth’s sword flashed and slashed across Riden’s neck.

Elicia watched in frozen horror as her son collapsed in a heap. No scream came out.

Drenched in blood, she looked up at Kenneth and pleaded with all the strength left in her.

“Kenneth… please… just spare Rosalie. It’s my first and last request… please… my daughter, at least—”

The blade gleamed again. Elicia never finished her plea.

Rosalie’s green eyes dulled as the color drained from them. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest.

Her father, mother, and brother—all lay on the ground, eyes wide open, blood flowing endlessly.

Her entire body trembled violently.

Step. Step.

Rosalie looked at Kenneth as he walked past her mother’s body and came toward her.

She took a step back, her legs stiff with terror.

There was no emotion on Kenneth’s face.

Rosalie recalled the past week she had spent with him. He had been bright, kind, gentle.

She couldn’t believe the man before her was the same person.

‘Is this a dream? Did I fall asleep in the carriage? Is this just a nightmare?’

She wished with all her heart that it was.

If only she could wake up, and her mother would smile and gently say, “Did you sleep well?” while stroking her hair.

She’d run into her father’s arms, and he would comfort her as she sat on his lap.

Her brother would laugh and tease her to cheer her up.

Yes. This had to be a dream.

“Aah…!”

Rosalie looked down at the sword embedded in her stomach.

Pain exploded from the wound and spread like wildfire through her entire body.

Unfortunately, this was reality.

As Rosalie struggled to lift her head, her eyes widened. Kenneth, who had mercilessly cut down her beloved family and herself with a sword, was smiling brightly.

Even after Kenneth rode off on his horse, Rosalie lay on the ground, gasping faintly for breath.

Through her dimming vision, the darkening sky came into view. As her senses dulled, thick raindrops began to fall one by one onto Rosalie’s face, soon drenching her entire body.

The torrential rain and the thunder that roared as if the sky were splitting echoed her heart.

Rosalie coughed up warm blood and weakly closed her eyes.

***

When she slowly opened her eyes, a blurry ceiling came into view beyond her hazy vision.

As her consciousness gradually sharpened, the horrific memories returned with it. The image of her parents and brother stabbed and slashed, lying brutally across the floor. And the painful memory of Kenneth driving his sword into her own body.

But the fact that she was awake again now was proof that she had not died. Someone passing by must have saved them. Rosalie moved her body with difficulty, believing that surely her family was also still breathing somewhere.

Sensing someone beside her, she turned her gaze with a sliver of hope—only for her eyes to twist in disappointment.

The person by her side was not her family, but a stranger.

Rosalie suddenly sat up and looked around the room.

It was not her familiar home, but an entirely unknown place.

“You shouldn’t get up so suddenly.”

“Who…”

“You’re surprised. It’s okay. This isn’t a dangerous place—it’s a temple.”

Rosalie touched her abdomen where the sword had pierced her. It had hurt so badly, yet now it felt perfectly fine, as if there had never been a wound.

Suddenly, she bolted upright and rushed out of the room, running down the corridor.

She thought that perhaps her family, having awakened before her, might be somewhere in this place.

Her legs gave out and she fell several times, but Rosalie resolutely got back up each time and opened every single door to check the rooms.

Panting, she reached the end of the corridor and opened a door much larger than the others, only to find everyone inside turning to look at her.

“Oh no…”

The priest who had followed Rosalie belatedly pressed a hand to his forehead.

Three coffins rested at the center of the room.

The moment Rosalie saw the faces of those lying inside them, she collapsed to the floor, gasping as though she had forgotten how to breathe.

Her beloved family lay in the coffins, their faces drained of color.

Rosalie, though still young, understood exactly what that meant.

Her family would never be by her side again.

She crawled forward slowly and, with her small hands, gently touched their cold bodies.

Tears welled up in her large eyes and fell endlessly down her cheeks.

The tears that soaked the floor did not stop, even as the Count and Countess of Kinson arrived.

When the Count and Countess, who had arrived too late, saw the bodies of their daughter, son-in-law, and grandson, they were overwhelmed with a grief that seemed to tear their hearts apart.

What pained them most was the sight of Rosalie sitting silently by the coffins.

“Oh, my darling child!”

The Countess gathered Rosalie into her arms.

Only then did Rosalie finally cry aloud like the child she truly was.

Everyone in the room looked upon her with sorrow.

Losing even one family member was heartbreaking—Rosalie had lost three.

The weight of such grief was unimaginable.

“They said it was a monster attack?” the Count asked, lifting tearful eyes.

“Yes. If you look at the bodies, it’s clear. We confirmed it at the scene as well.”

The Count carefully examined the corpses.

The wounds were indeed far too large and deep to have been inflicted by a human.

It was obvious at a glance—they had been attacked by a beast or a monster.

Once the temple completed the necessary procedures for releasing the bodies, the Count and Countess of Kinson returned to their estate with Rosalie and the three coffins.

And thus, ten long years passed.