Chapter 60
“Hey! That’s not right!”
Killian’s lips moved as if he had muttered something, but his words were drowned out by the voice of the man sitting directly in front of Elshunine.
“What do you mean, not right?”
“How are we supposed to know who he loves if he just says it?!”
“Oh, come to think of it, that’s true.”
“No matter if this is just a demonstration, at least make the magic look convincing!”
The crowd murmured in agreement.
At this, the man in the black mask shrugged and let out a heavy sigh.
“Geez, you people sure expect a lot. How about this then? From now on, I’ll use a Manipule to enter this person’s mental world!”
“Oh-ho, now that sounds interesting.”
The man in the black mask grinned broadly.
“Well then! Who would like to volunteer to enter this person’s mental world?”
Elshunine’s eyes trembled violently.
Then she pressed her lips tightly together.
There’s no choice. I couldn’t dispel the Manipule either. For now, I’ll have to follow the plan and take Arwen’s role myself.
If left as it was, Killian’s mind could really collapse.
This wasn’t just some demonstration—it was genuine ancient magic being activated.
Quickly, she raised her hand.
The man in the black mask, noticing her reflexive gesture, smiled slyly as if amused and pointed at her.
“A noble lady has raised her hand. This man must truly be blessed! Come forward, please!”
Elshunine strode quickly up onto the platform and stood beside Killian.
Ever since the moment the black-masked man had asked Killian who he loved, Killian’s gaze had been locked on Elshunine.
As she moved, his head naturally turned to follow her.
“Are you ready?”
The masked man asked as soon as she stepped onto the platform.
“Yes. What am I supposed to do?”
She pretended not to know, though she already did.
“You only need to stay calm. It will proceed on its own.”
Elshunine pressed her lips together in acknowledgment and fixed her eyes on him.
“What is it? Do I have something on my face? Oh, wait, right—you can’t even see my face because of the mask. Hmm… maybe on my clothes then?”
The man scratched the back of his head clumsily, looking almost foolish, but Elshunine didn’t underestimate him.
Could he be connected to that demon tribe member who never even appeared in the original story?
Not only did he cast spells without incantations, but he was also handling ancient magic directly.
Could he truly be the one controlling it? It seemed possible…
Wait.
Could he be a dragon…? No, impossible. Ashuray already confirmed every last dragon was extinct.
Then maybe… an unidentified demon clan member?
“The audience grows impatient! Let’s begin right away. Step this way.”
While Elshunine was lost in thought, the man broke her train of thought by clapping his hands sharply.
He led both her and Killian toward the Manipule.
When he grabbed Elshunine’s wrist, Killian’s eyebrow twitched.
A dangerous gleam flashed in his eyes, cold and lethal.
From behind the black mask, the man’s eyes narrowed into crescents as if mocking Killian’s reaction. Elshunine, walking ahead, didn’t notice.
As soon as she stood before the Manipule—
“Then, safe travels. May you have a pleasant time.”
With the man’s cheerful voice, her vision blurred.
* * *
“Hah!”
Elshunine opened her eyes.
Yet, though her eyes were open, nothing appeared before them—only pitch-black darkness surrounded her.
What…? Where am I?
“Sniffle… hic…”
While she blinked rapidly, the faint sound of someone crying reached her ears from very close by.
Elshunine whipped her head toward the sound.
“…!”
“Hic… sob…”
It was a young boy.
As though he were one with the darkness, he sat curled up inside it, rubbing his eyes with his tiny hands over and over.
Large teardrops fell from between his fingers.
When his hands slipped slightly away, blood-red eyes were revealed.
…Killian.
It was Killian, as a child.
That’s right. I remember this…
One particular incident in his mental world had been so strong that everything else was blurry.
The Manipule was cast to break Killian’s mind.
It would replay the most painful memories he had, over and over.
The first was his childhood.
…This must be from before he met me.
His shoulder-length unkempt hair, ragged dirty clothes…
After she met him, she had always looked after him, so he was never in such a state.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… sob… please don’t abandon me…”
Killian whimpered as he clung to something in the dark.
That “something” trembled faintly, letting a sliver of light seep through before vanishing again.
A wardrobe…
She realized from that fleeting glimpse.
He was locked in a wardrobe by his mother.
“You are a wicked child. That’s why you’ll live alone in the dark forever.”
“No… no, I’m not…”
“No one will ever love you.”
His mother’s voice was cold, like ice.
Killian shook his head desperately, covering his mouth with his fists as if afraid he would be punished for crying too loudly.
Tears fell and splashed against the floor.
Killian…
Her heart ached to see him in such pain. Elshunine rushed to embrace him.
“No, Killian. You are more than worthy of love. Just by existing, you shine so brightly.”
These were the very words she used to tell him often, when he woke from nightmares or fell ill for no reason. And every time, he would mutter an apology.
“Really…?”
The child sniffled, asking through tears. Elshunine nodded firmly.
And suddenly—the scene shifted.
“Stand up right this instant!”
“Ugh!”
In a snowy white field, crimson liquid spattered onto the ground.
At the same moment, a dull thud rang out as someone collapsed beside him.
Killian looked about nine now. Older than before, but still a child.
“F-Father… I’m sorry…”
“Father? Don’t call me that! A weakling who collapses this easily is no son of mine. You should’ve died with that woman back then. Tch.”
“…”
“How do you expect to march into war in your brother’s stead like this? If you can’t, then you’re worthless. You know that, don’t you?”
“…Yes.”
Killian pushed himself off the ground with trembling arms, staggering to his feet.
His wounded, contorted face stabbed into Elshunine’s heart.
Damn it.
She had always known the strong, hardened Killian. Seeing him so fragile was unbearable.
His childhood was nothing but suffering.
“Falling again? Stand up, you useless brat! No wonder your mother left you behind—anyone by your side will abandon you. Everyone will run away!”
“…”
As Killian knelt in the bloody snow, head bowed, Elshunine stepped forward.
She cupped his ears in her hands and held him tight.
“No, Killian. I’m here, aren’t I? Don’t listen to those words, okay?”
At the time, she had always been there beside him.
She remembered this day, too—when his father, who had taken him to the ducal household, had spat such cruel words at him.
Back then, she had always comforted him just like this.
“…Is it okay if I do?”
He asked in a subdued voice.
Elshunine smiled warmly and nodded.
The scene shifted again.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
“P-Please, spare me! I don’t want to die here!”
“The holy sword isn’t ready yet?!”
“God has forsaken us! We’re all going to die!”
“Damn it, stop saying such unlucky things!”
Voices of despair echoed all around, and Elshunine’s lips parted slightly.
This was that day.
“I’ll hold them back. In the meantime, get the sword—”
“What? Are you insane? Arwen, don’t talk nonsense!”
The day Arwen gave her life to awaken the Holy Sword.
And the day Elshunine left Killian.
“No! Arwen—!”
“The Saintess… the Saintess is—!”
Before her eyes, she saw herself transformed into a spirit.
A girl shimmering with blue light, whispering as she looked at Killian.
“I’m sorry, Killian.”
“…Elshunine?”
Water surged, and she threw herself into it.
“Elshunine!”
At the same time, a scream—more like a howl—shook the fortress walls.
