~Chapter 04~
“Huh….”
The knight let out a sigh, sweeping a hand over his face as if troubled.
Ivyn, noticing his subtle change in mood, began to cry even louder, raising her voice.
“Sniff… Sob… Ugh… Ssob… Waaaah….”
It was then.
A strange emotion began to churn in her chest.
Though she had initially started squeezing out tears as mere acting, once the crying truly started, it felt as if she had swallowed a hot lump of coal—her throat and chest burned, making her feel stuffy and uncomfortable.
‘What… is this? Is it like an empathetic experience?’
Complete immersion in the situation.
It felt as if the emotions the original extra character would have felt in this scene were transferring directly to her.
She was scared.
Miserable.
Lonely.
How much time passed like that?
*Creak.*
Theodore rose from his seat.
The sound of rattling chains followed.
‘Is he… freeing me?’
*Click.*
As her wrists felt a sudden cool release, Ivyn’s body slumped forward limply.
“Ugh!”
The man swiftly reached out an arm, supporting her slender body.
“The floor is cold.”
Ivyn tightly gripped the man’s thick forearm with both hands.
And just as she tried to get up, following his words…
‘Uh oh?’
Her body swayed heavily, and then *BAM!* A loud impact sound followed.
It seemed she had hit her head against the knight’s gauntlet.
“Oww…!”
Ivyn raised her head, clutching her forehead with a pained expression.
For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.
The pain was one thing…
But she also felt extremely embarrassed right now.
‘What was that sound, like a rock splitting someone’s head open?!’
An awkward silence briefly settled between the two.
Suddenly, her body was swept up into the air.
“……!”
A cold, hard sensation felt through her thin clothes.
This was definitely the touch of armor.
Which meant…
Ivyn slowly raised her head to look up.
Then, the man’s face, with its large, cool features, was reflected in her pale blue eyes.
“……”
The holy knight glanced down at her indifferently with his jet-black eyes, then simply walked with large strides toward the table, carrying her in his arms.
“Wait here for a bit.”
A short while later.
When he returned from outside, his hands held a steaming mug and a warm blanket.
“……?”
As Ivyn looked up at Theodore with a questioning expression, he gave a slight nod.
“Drink.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t make me repeat the same thing twice.”
“……”
Wondering what this sudden development was, Ivyn fell into brief thought.
Theodore simply stood beside her, looking down as if observing her.
‘Is it really okay to drink this…?’
After pondering for a moment, she watched the knight’s expression, gently took the mug in her hands, then slowly brought it to her lips and took a sip.
And the next moment, her large eyes widened.
‘What the… it’s, it’s delicious!’
With a look that seemed to ask, ‘Was milk always this tasty?’ Ivyn stared at the mug, then brought it back to her mouth again.
*Gulp, gulp.*
She drank the milk continuously until she could see the bottom of the mug.
Her gulps looked so refreshing, one might think the mug contained a freshly poured, cold beer.
*Thud!*
Ivyn put the mug down, leaving a white milk mustache on her upper lip.
A satisfied, gentle smile appeared on her lips, but soon, as if noticing Theodore’s gaze on her, she promptly pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes.
Just moments ago, she was sobbing hysterically, and now she was sitting here smiling over just a mug of milk.
‘…I must look pretty pathetic right now.’
She herself felt pathetic, so what must the knight be thinking?
“How is it?”
Theodore, who had been persistently observing her reaction, spoke up in a slightly gentle tone.
“How is what?”
“I’m asking about your physical condition now.”
“Hmm… Drinking something warm feels much better.”
“Better, huh…”
The knight’s eyes narrowed upon hearing her answer.
Seeing that, Ivyn unconsciously gulped.
Did I say something wrong?
The taste…
So, did he want me to comment on the taste or something?
“Well… It’s very comforting and nice.”
“……”
“It, it was tasty.”
“……”
At the man’s continued silence, beads of cold sweat began to form on Ivyn’s forehead.
“How was the smell?”
“It smelled nutty.”
Upon hearing Ivyn’s answer, Theodore’s expression became thoughtful, and then he uttered unexpected words.
“It seems you haven’t lied.”
“…Excuse me?”
“The milk you just drank…”
“…?”
“…had holy power dissolved in it.”
For a moment, Ivyn felt her heart sink.
It felt like she had been tricked by someone’s capricious kindness, offered without a second thought.
But then, remembering her own situation, she closed her mouth without further protest.
‘It’s a bit unfair, but from Theodore’s perspective, it’s a perfectly valid method.’
Unlike ordinary monsters, warlocks or magical creatures that use dark power as their source cannot withstand sanctified holy water in any processed form. Skin touched by holy water melts, and throats through which it flows burn black. Using this principle, Theodore had apparently given Ivyn the milk infused with holy power to test her.
“Judging from your reaction, it seems you haven’t had direct contact with dark power.”
“……”
As Ivyn showed no reaction for a while, Theodore carefully studied her face.
He seemed to be trying to catch any deceit or change he might have missed.
“So… will you let me go now?”
Ivyn finally spoke up after a long pause, asking the knight.
“I cannot do that. Even if you have no direct connection to demons, the fact that you are a member of the Kinzell family remains unchanged.”
It was then.
*BAM! BAM!*
The sound of someone urgently knocking on the interrogation room door was heard.
“Sir Theodore! Sir Theodore!”
“Come in.”
*Clang.*
As soon as the heavy iron door opened, a holy warrior rushed in.
He seemed to have run a long distance without rest, as he was panting heavily even while reporting.
“Air raid alert.”
“Air raid?”
“The forward outpost has been destroyed.”
The knight’s eyes sharpened instantly upon hearing the report.
“Concentrate all forces from the 3rd Interrogation Block here. I’ll return shortly, so do not take your eyes off the prisoner and guard her well.”
“Yes, understood!”
“Get up!”
Just as cold shackles were being placed back on Ivyn’s hands…
*KABOOOM!*
A tremendous explosion shook the entire building.
“Wha, what’s happening!”
*Flicker, flicker.*
The light orbs hanging from the ceiling flickered dimly, repeatedly plunging the chamber into darkness and then light.
*BOOM!*
A large hole appeared as one of the thick stone walls of the interrogation room crumbled, and cold, sandy winds began blowing in from outside.
“Who goes there!”
*Thud, thud.*
The sound of someone walking out of the hazy sandstorm was heard.
Followed by a rough curse.
“You damn half-breed bastards.”
If a grim reaper had just risen from hell, would he look like this?
*Thud, thud.*
A man clad in sticky, blood-stained black armor walked forward, his eyes gleaming red.
*Thud!*
*Roll, roll, roll.*
A fresh, severed head—likely just taken from outside—was tossed toward the soldiers’ feet.
“How dare you… lay hands on our princess…?”
*Step back, step back.*
As the terrified soldiers unconsciously took a step back each…
“Huh?”
Ivyn’s eyes widened slightly upon recognizing the intruder.
Lavender-like purple hair.
Pale blue eyes.
A white scar cutting through his right eyebrow and a rugged physique…
“…!”
Just as she reflexively tried to get up in welcome…
*Clink.*
A cold metallic object touched the back of her neck.
“Intruder, halt your movements! You vile necromancer, colluding with demons! You’d best stop while I’m being polite. Take one more step closer, and this prisoner’s life is… Guhk!”
However, the soldier’s words did not reach their conclusion.
In the blink of an eye, Ron moved, driving his fist into the soldier’s face.
“Puhk!”
The soldier flew backward, spraying broken teeth and blood into the air.
*Whoosh!*
Ron roughly grabbed the hair of the fallen soldier.
“How dare you point a dangerous piece of metal at our princess’s neck?!”
What followed was indiscriminate violence.
*Whack!*
*Whack!*
*Crack!*
After several cracking sounds, the soldier’s body went limp like a puppet with its strings cut.
“You dare lay your filthy hands on the princess’s body, raised without even a drop of water touching her hands? You sons of bitches.”
A cold, low voice echoed over the lifeless corpse.
Ron shook the soldier’s blood from his hand and scanned the remaining soldiers one by one. The expression that rose on his face was that of a beast cornering its prey.
“Rise, my new thrall.”
*Crack.*
*Crack, crack.*
As soon as Ron’s words fell, with sounds like breaking bones, the soldier who had just become a corpse slowly rose from the floor.
Blue-tinged skin.
Flickering green eyes.
He, risen from death, was no longer the soldier he once was.
He was a fresh undead, bound under Ron’s power, merely a limb of the necromancer.
*Uooooo….*
*Grin.*
Ron Kinzell smiled like a devil, looking at the soldier he had raised.
“Tear them apart. Leave not a single one.”
As his voice, cold as a guillotine’s blade, fell to the ground, the undead shot forward like an arrow.
*Keeeeek!*
What followed were ear-splitting screams and shouts.
