Episode 2
People say that when death draws near, a person reflects on their life.
One of Adora’s former comrades once said that the moment before death was when they felt most alive. Others had mocked it as the ramblings of a lunatic, but Adora believed there was some truth to those words.
At this very moment, Adora was reflecting on her life.
And her memories always led her back to a time long ago—a time filled with nothing but happiness.
She had a gentle, loving father and a mother devoted solely to her family’s happiness. Adora had grown up as a beloved little girl, showered with affection between them.
Her thick red hair cascaded down to her chest, swaying as she ran about, and her delicate little face was always adorned with a bright smile. The sight of her toddling around while waving her tiny hands was so adorable that it melted not only her parents’ hearts but even those of the household servants.
Holding her daughter—who looked exactly like her younger self—in her arms, Lady Alfred smiled with joy.
Then Adora would giggle brightly and burrow into her mother’s embrace.
“Adora, I heard you skipped your embroidery lesson again and went to the sword training grounds. Is that true?”
At her mother’s words, Adora’s eyes widened.
Her large eyes blinked rapidly before she quietly looked away.
“Well…”
Adora fidgeted with her fingers as her eyes darted around.
Seeing her reaction, Lady Alfred immediately realized the accusation was true and let out a sigh.
“I-it was only this once! I won’t do it again!”
Flapping her tiny hands, Adora desperately tried to soothe her mother.
Lady Alfred gave her daughter a sorrowful smile.
“This mother wishes for you to hold flowers instead of a sword, Adora.”
Adora had inherited the Alfred family bloodline strongly.
Unlike other girls her age who liked pretty dresses and cute things, she was deeply interested in swordsmanship—and she showed exceptional talent for it as well.
But in the end, she was still a girl.
There was already a son who would inherit the family line, and it was unthinkable for a daughter to live her life wielding a sword.
Moreover, no parent wished for their child to roam battlefields where death lurked at every turn.
One day, Adora would inevitably be forced to give up what she loved.
Knowing the sorrow her daughter would one day face, Lady Alfred wanted to steer her interests elsewhere as early as possible.
“Why can’t I do something I like?”
“There are things in this world that, even if you love them, you still cannot do.”
“That’s too hard to understand.”
“You may not understand now, but someday you will understand your mother’s words. Please know that everything I say is for your sake.”
Adora didn’t fully understand, but seeing the sadness on her mother’s face, she simply nodded.
Lady Alfred pulled her daughter into another embrace and rubbed her cheek against hers.
It was such a peaceful world.
The era of suffering brought by war had become nothing more than distant history.
Though the Alfred family was known as a martial household, times were peaceful enough that Lady Alfred believed neither her daughter nor even her infant son needed to become knights.
But her wish was shattered in the cruelest way imaginable.
That night, the familiar scenery of her home felt strangely terrifying.
The warm air carried the stench of blood.
The once peaceful mansion felt disturbingly chaotic.
In that strange night, Adora awoke to her mother calling her name.
Her mother, hastily wrapped in a coat over thin nightclothes, was shaking her awake.
“My baby, wake up. Quickly.”
“Mother…”
Half asleep, Adora sat up.
Her mother didn’t explain why she had awakened her or what had happened.
She simply dragged Adora out of bed in a hurry.
Still groggy, Adora had no choice but to follow.
Leading her into the next room, her mother began feeling along a wooden cabinet attached to one wall.
Adora rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off her drowsiness as she watched.
Her hair was messy, her nightgown wrinkled, and she hadn’t even managed to put both shoes on properly.
Normally, her mother would have scolded her for such an unladylike appearance.
But that night, she said nothing.
Her mother frantically pressed several stones embedded in the wall beside the cabinet.
When she finally pressed the correct one, the cabinet clicked open, revealing a hidden space.
Before Adora could even react, her mother shoved her inside.
It was far too narrow for an adult, but it fit a child perfectly.
“Adora, you must never come out of here. Do you understand?”
“Mother… Mother!”
Adora looked up at her in confusion.
Moonlight brushed against her mother’s rigid face.
But when she looked at Adora, her usual gentle smile returned.
“Be a good girl, my baby.”
Her soft whisper followed.
Then—
Click.
The door shut.
Her beloved mother disappeared from sight.
After a brief silence, Adora heard her mother’s footsteps moving away.
At the same time, someone entered the room.
Was it Father?
Adora felt around the closed door.
It wouldn’t budge.
It seemed it could only be opened from the outside.
She couldn’t tell who had entered.
Her mother’s footsteps stopped.
Only the stranger’s footsteps remained.
Frantically feeling around in the darkness, Adora noticed a tiny crack in the door.
She pressed her eye against it.
Through the narrow gap, she saw her mother standing with her back turned toward her.
And beyond her—
A stranger.
He was taller than her mother.
A man.
His face was half-covered by a black mask.
Dressed entirely in black, he looked like darkness itself.
Her mother shouted at him in fury.
The man’s voice remained calm.
That struck Adora as strange.
Why was her mother so angry?
And who was that man?
Adora felt innocent curiosity.
But that curiosity didn’t last long.
The man stepped closer to her mother.
Something flashed in the moonlight.
Adora blinked.
A sword.
The moment she realized it—
The blade moved without hesitation.
Thud.
A sickening sound followed.
Her mother’s body trembled.
Her beautiful red hair swayed with the motion.
Her mother staggered and reached for the man, grabbing his shoulder as if clinging to a lifeline.
Her trembling hand reached for the mask covering his face.
Then—
As her mother collapsed, the mask was torn away.
The revealed face was young.
But it was unfamiliar.
Even after being exposed, the man showed no panic.
He simply looked down.
Adora lowered her gaze as well.
Her mother lay collapsed on the floor.
Her red hair spread across her white nightgown and the pristine floor.
One hand clutched her abdomen.
Her chest rose and fell unnaturally.
Yet the man looking down at her showed no emotion.
If anything, he seemed annoyed.
When her mother weakly reached toward him, he casually knocked her hand away with the tip of his sword.
Then he raised the blade once more.
Adora’s lips trembled.
Mother.
Her mother didn’t answer.
The man’s sword pierced her mother’s chest without hesitation.
Her body convulsed weakly before growing still.
The man watched until she stopped moving completely.
Then he pulled out the blade.
Blood sprayed everywhere—
Yet not a single stain remained on his black clothing.
He bent down and picked up the mask her mother had torn away.
Then he glanced around the room indifferently.
He never imagined a little girl might be hiding inside the cabinet built into the wall.
After scanning the room once, he turned and left.
Before leaving, he didn’t forget to put his mask back on.
Adora couldn’t take her eyes off her mother through the narrow crack.
She couldn’t see her face.
Her mother lay completely still, as if she were merely asleep.
Adora wanted to rush out and wake her.
Then surely her mother would smile warmly and hold her like always.
But that never happened.
The half-closed door creaked loudly.
And beyond it—
Chaos.
Hurried footsteps.
The sound of people crashing into things and falling.
Desperate screams begging for help.
The entire world was filled with screams.
It was a night of hell that seemed like it would never end.
And that was how Adora survived.
Only Adora survived.
The incident spread far and wide under the name:
“The Tragedy of House Alfred.”
Everyone who heard of it lamented.
Who could have destroyed such a happy family like this?
But there were few survivors.
Most remained unconscious.
Even those who stayed conscious couldn’t identify the killers because their faces had been covered.
And since the murderers were clearly professionals, they left behind no evidence.
The investigation hit a dead end.
Then rumors spread that the only surviving daughter of House Alfred had been found alive.
While searching the mansion thoroughly, someone heard strange noises coming from a cabinet in one of the rooms.
When they broke it open, they found Adora unconscious inside.
Adora was rescued from the cabinet.
She remained bedridden for two full days before waking up.
Those around her waited until she had physically recovered before asking about that night.
Of course, Adora remembered everything.
She remembered the face of the man who killed her mother with perfect clarity.
But she couldn’t speak of it.
It felt like an instinctive warning.
Don’t say anything.
Something terrible will happen.
Though young, Adora understood that what she had witnessed was no ordinary event.
“I don’t remember anything.”
In the end, Adora chose to lie.
She was afraid.
Afraid that if she told the truth, that man would come to kill her too.
She surrendered to that formless fear.
People comforted her.
Given how horrific the event had been, it was easy to believe she had lost her memories from the trauma.
Perhaps forgetting was better.
No one realized Adora was lying.
The direct descendants of the Alfred family handled the funeral in her place.
Not only for her family—
but for the servants who had died alongside them as well.
The funeral was filled with nothing but grief-stricken sobbing.
Everyone mourned the terrible tragedy.
And they looked at Adora with pity.
Surrounded by crying adults, Adora could only stand there blankly.
Whether the killers lost interest after hearing that the sole surviving heir had lost her memory—
or whether they simply believed she posed no threat—
they never appeared again.
Though Adora spent a long time trembling in fear, haunted by nightmares and convinced the man who killed her mother would return for her at any moment…
she gradually returned to normal life.
But the lie she had told became a curse that slowly tightened around her.
From that day onward, Adora never lived peacefully.
Her nightmares, like relentless headaches, never allowed her to forget.
Her unresolved fear continued to torment her.
Pretending she had forgotten may have saved her life—
but she had never escaped those memories for even a single day.
And as time passed, what remained in her heart was no longer fear of death…
nor grief over losing her family.
It was hatred.
And in the year Adora turned thirteen—
she finally learned who had destroyed her precious family.
