Chapter 57
The sound coming from inside the cave wall meant there was another hollow space behind it. Theodore approached the wall and pressed his ear against it. He heard the voices of children mixed with the sound of wind. Judging by the fact that the wall jutted out awkwardly and no magical seal was placed, it seemed the entrance had merely been blocked off with a massive rock.
“So much magic power was consumed creating monsters that he couldn’t even use other black magic.”
A black magician usually lived in groups, constantly moving their dwellings. It was extremely rare for one to wander alone. Such cases fell into two categories: either all the others had died and one survived alone, or—like Leopold—they deliberately broke away from the group because they wanted to stand at the top. Since this one had gone so far as to create a humanoid monster, it was likely the latter.
“Theodore, Siberron. Step back.”
The rock blocking the entrance had to be removed. At his signal, the two men quickly retreated a good distance. Theodore tightened his grip on his sword. The holy power flowing out from his heart coursed down his arm and gently wrapped around his knuckles.
The once-steely blade glowed with a pure white light. The holy sword, which had cut down countless monsters, blazed like an explosion the moment it was swung.
Theodore’s sword cleaved through the air. The rock split cleanly in two and slowly collapsed to the ground with a heavy crash. Through the cloud of dust, a group of children huddled together came into view. In the darkness they clung to each other, trembling in fear. Theodore approached them.
Among them, he spotted Allison—the brown-haired, gray-eyed child the vice principal had mentioned. She was shivering in the arms of a boy, who was likely her brother, Allen, also mentioned before. Theodore knelt down and met the terrified children’s eyes.
“You must be Allen?”
“……”
“And your sister’s name is Allison?”
“……”
Allen, the eldest among the kidnapped children, was still terrified, but he seemed to understand that the man before him was not an enemy. He nodded vigorously.
“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”
“…N-not long. Some men said they needed help transporting ore, so we followed. But they put us in a carriage and brought us here. I don’t know the details, but when I came to, we were locked up here.”
Allen spoke with lips that could barely move from fear.
What nerve… Disguising themselves as miners to kidnap children. Even if they were discovered, the black magician’s base was nearby—they would simply kill and silence anyone who found them.
Still, one thing was strange: why build a base here? Black magicians usually hid themselves away in desolate places. This spot was only a little removed from a road frequently traveled by people.
“Y-you’re knights, right? You came to rescue us?”
“Yes. You’re safe now. Don’t worry.”
Tears ran down Allen’s face as he stammered on.
“There were… others here too, not just us.”
“Other children?”
“When we woke up, there were other people. But a man in a black cloak dragged them away. At first we heard shouting, then it stopped.”
“!”
“Not long after… we heard beastly cries…”
Allen tried to tell the story but couldn’t continue. Covering his ears, he broke down. Theodore sighed and comforted him. The shouts meant those who resisted were killed. The beastly cries were likely the sounds of corpses turned into monsters.
“Commander.”
It was then that Mark quietly spoke.
“The dead black magician… He seems to have been attacked by his own monster not long ago. Only his upper body has begun to decay.”
“…So he managed to create a humanoid monster, but unlike Leopold, he couldn’t control it.”
“Poetic justice, I’d say.”
Anyone killed by a monster quickly decayed, as the monster’s venom rotted the flesh starting at the wound. For the body to still be mostly intact meant they had discovered the place early. If they had arrived later—or if the monsters had been found closer to the cave—the children might have starved to death inside.
Still in Nate’s arms, Allison finally whispered in a trembling voice:
“I… I want to go home…”
Her whimper sparked tears from the other children as well. They hadn’t seen the killings, but they had heard everything—the screams, the transformation into monsters. No wonder they were traumatized. Theodore’s brows furrowed as he cast a glance toward the pile of corpses stacked in one corner of the cave.
“Yes, I’ll take you home. Let’s get out of here. Take the children out… cover their eyes.”
Mark and the other paladins began escorting the children out, blindfolded. These wretched black magicians—he wanted nothing more than to burn everything here, but he had to resist.
The current state needed to be preserved for the temple’s investigation.
“Shall we finish the search and head straight to the temple afterward?”
Theodore didn’t reply. Instead, he ran his hand roughly through his hair. Though the decision came quickly, countless thoughts raced through his mind in the meantime. He steadied his breathing.
“Yes.”
“And Nostrid?”
“We won’t stop there.”
A firm decision. Siberron nodded without question. Ash may have cared more about Charlotte than his duty as a knight, but Theodore was captain of the paladin order—responsible for its men and for the world.
Though worry for Charlotte weighed heavily on him even before the monster battle, now—after seeing children kidnapped, people slaughtered, and corpses turned into monsters—he knew he must fulfill his duty as commander.
Theodore approached the corpses. He reached out a hand to at least pray for the souls, but his fingers were suddenly seized by a chilling cold that bit into the bone. His wrist was grabbed. He thought it was Siberron following him, but it wasn’t. It was the dead black magician, seizing his wrist.
“Commander!”
“Ghh!”
Smoke hissed from Theodore’s wrist where he was grasped. Siberron swiftly chopped off the black magician’s hand. Theodore’s skin was already reddened with burn marks. He had confirmed the man was dead—so how was he moving?
The mutilated face twisted into a grotesque smile, fish-like eyes rolling until they fixed directly on Theodore. In a shrill, eerie voice, the black magician cried:
“We will return.”
Cackling, he spat out his curse. Theodore looked down at his wrist, gritting his teeth at the pain like his flesh was being cut by a blade. Something had been engraved on the burned skin.
“Leopold’s resurrection is close. Death will soon descend upon this place.”
Theodore glared at the truly dead black magician. The mark branded onto his flesh was unmistakable: Leopold’s sigil.
That night, when Aria said she wanted to visit the Kenis couple, a snowstorm began just as Ash had predicted. At first the snowflakes were just thick, and the wind wasn’t strong.
Aria, thrilled by the falling snow, had been bouncing around the room. Charlotte thought to let her play in the castle garden for just a short while. But the moment they donned cloaks and stepped out, a violent snowstorm swept in.
Ash, who had suffered through many snowstorm cycles, rushed out upon seeing Charlotte and Aria outside. Without his help, little Aria might have been swept away like a dandelion seed in the wind.
Charlotte shivered as the windows rattled, the blizzard pounding against them like fists.
Two days passed like that.
Fortunately, the storm was short. By the second day it began to subside.
Charlotte spent every moment during those days with Aria, unwilling to let her go for even a minute. Since they were scheduled to meet Baroness Bubell three days after the storm ended, she wanted to create as many happy memories as possible.
She played with Aria all day, fed her delicious food, and even late at night never let her out of her arms. Today—one day before meeting the Kenis couple—was no different. Hiding her aching heart, Charlotte focused only on Aria, who was reading a history book.
While other children read fairy tales, Aria read history. She asked about difficult words and read the easy ones on her own.
“Paladin!”
“Hm?”
“Paladin, the picture is cool!”
On the page she pointed to was an illustration of a paladin driving away a black magician. More precisely, it was the image of the “Nameless Knight” piercing Leopold’s heart. Stroking Aria’s head, Charlotte was suddenly reminded of Theodore.
“I wonder if Theodore completed his blessing ceremony safely…”
She murmured without realizing it. Since it had been so long without word from him, she had refrained from sending a letter, afraid it would burden him. Yet she regretted it now—maybe she should have at least written a short greeting. Hearing her murmur, Aria blinked her round eyes.
“Theodore—that was the name in the letter! The knight!”
“My, my… Aria has such a good memory.”
“Is he your friend, Mama?”
“…Friend, well… We did grow up together.”
But now, even calling him that felt cautious. She was still regarded as the “ominous lady,” while Theodore was celebrated as a hero.
“Is the knight a good person?”
“Yes, he is. Kind to everyone, always gentle. He was very sweet to me too.”
Charlotte nodded with a smile. She no longer exchanged letters with him, but Theodore remained a precious bond and a treasured memory.
They had shared their childhood until, at sixteen, he entered the paladin order. He had been dispatched right after his initiation, and despite his young age, returned with remarkable achievements. Charlotte had been happy yet a little sad when she heard the news from her father.
Knowing how dreadful black magicians and monsters were, she feared he too would come to see her as “the cursed child of a doomed mother.” She thought their bond would be severed. But no—Theodore, after his triumphs, had come straight to her. He treated her without prejudice.
It had been Charlotte herself who tried to distance them, but Theodore never cared, always coming closer. Her memories of him were all good.
As Charlotte quietly smiled, Aria blushed and whispered:
“Mama, do you… like the knight?”
“Wh-what?”
Caught off guard, Charlotte responded louder than she meant to.
