I Got Divorced And Abandoned My Family

Chapter 5

“What are you doing now…!”

“Enough.”

She accepted the towel as if accustomed to it.

Helia roughly wiped the dripping water and then threw the wet towel onto the floor before briskly heading upstairs to the second floor.

“You’ll catch a cold.”

“I won’t. I’m resilient to the cold.”

“Tsk, don’t be so stubborn…”

Before the sentence could finish, Caligo approached Helia and urgently grabbed her shoulder.

Crack.

A sharp sound tore through the air.

The searing pain Caligo felt on his palm was delayed, coming moments after the sound.

Caligo’s gaze harshly fixed on where his hand had been forcefully separated.

Helia’s eyes widened momentarily before quickly returning to their usual expressionless state as Caligo looked back at her.

“I… told you not to touch without permission.”

“…Ah, right. It was wrong of me to touch your body without permission.”

He tossed the towel he had brought onto the floor.

The towel, still damp, flopped onto the rug with a thud.

“Sorry for touching. That was thoughtless.”

Caligo turned away.

Helia clenched her jaw.

It wasn’t what she had planned, but discomfort took precedence in her actions.

She bent down, picked up the discarded towel, and went into the room.

As she entered, a chilling atmosphere enveloped her cheeks.

Her first action was to rid herself of the dampness, quickly washing her body.

Despite the bone-chilling winter weather, the water felt oddly warm.

She skillfully washed her body alone.

After drying off and changing into pajamas, she retrieved a dull and blunt decorative dagger from the drawer of the bedside table.

While it could be used as a weapon with force, its edge was far from sharp.

She tucked the dagger into her robe and left the room.

The towel hanging on the chair still seemed damp, perhaps due to the coldness of the room.

She rummaged through the room before finally taking out a small lantern hanging in one corner and lit it.

Once again, Helia left the room and climbed the stairs at the end of the corridor.

The top floor of the large mansion felt rough and worn.

Many parts of the mansion seemed neglected. There were holes allowing the winter wind to seep in.

It was evident that the inhabitants of the mansion had endured hardship.

In fact, the entire mansion felt cold. There was nowhere warm.

Silently, she climbed the stairs.

As if representing the frugality of the family, there were no lanterns illuminating the way to the attic.

After climbing the dim staircase for a while, she stopped at the end.

The iron bars of a grimy prison-like cell greeted her vacant gaze.

She blinked slowly. What lay before her wasn’t a prison but iron bars.

A thick lock secured the rusty iron door.

Helia retrieved a key from within her sleeve and unlocked the door.

Taking the lantern with her, she entered and securely locked the door from the inside.

Once inside the iron bars, a long corridor stretched out.

At the end of the long corridor was a single door, leading to a very spacious attic.

“I never thought I would come here by myself and lock the door with my own hands.”

She muttered softly.

It wasn’t just setting foot in hell, she hadn’t expected to lock the gates of hell herself.

Probably, not just her, but none of them had known.

She opened the door.

Pitch-black darkness engulfed the attic.

She momentarily placed the lantern outside before firmly closing and locking the door.

In the pitch-black darkness, she moved as if familiar with it.

The sound of tense breathing and slight whimpering echoed from the center of the attic.

Helia approached the window on one side of the attic and skillfully unlocked it.

Despite the dark, gloomy weather, it provided enough visibility. The damp winter breeze blew in along with the rain.

“Yes, yes…!”

“It’s been a while, Mother. Father.”

She spoke with a dry voice, drawing a circle with her lips.

Flash. A silent spark cracked in the dry sky.

In an instant, a massive light filled the spacious attic.

The attic was filled with indescribable apparatuses, and in the center of the room, a middle-aged couple lay sprawled on the floor, their faces gaunt and chained.

Their shabby cloths looked worse than rags, and what seemed like luxurious fabrics were torn and tattered.

They were the owners of the Ricchiano family. More precisely, they used to be, but not anymore.

The Marquis of Ricchiano had nothing under his left elbow, and his right leg was missing below the knee.

The Marquise of Ricchiano’s left leg was twisted strangely, and even the slightest movement seemed painful.

Both of them had chains around intact legs.

“Have you been well during this time?”

Helia asked casually, and the Marquise, who had been absent-minded on the floor, suddenly opened her eyes fiercely and glared at Helia.

“You, you, you insolent wretch! Who raised you like this! How dare you!”

Her originally sweet and melodious voice cracked sharply.

Helia looked indifferent as she watched the Marquise coughing and gasping for breath.

“I remember, Mother and Father raised me.”

Helia said calmly.

“Now that I’ve grown up, I’ll repay your kindness. Mother, Father.”

“W-what…?”

“Just as Mother and Father raised me, I will do the same for you.”

She walked briskly and knelt before the couple.

Tilting her head, she slowly retrieved the dull dagger from her sleeve and placed it between them.

“I’ll even give you another option. Mother, Father.”

She smiled gently.

It was a smile unmatched in brilliance.

The perfect smile of a dutiful daughter, taught rigorously without a hint of imperfection or flaw.

“I had no choice.”

“W-what…?”

“Even mice, when cornered, will open their jaws to the cat. How much more so for a human like me.”

She pushed the dagger closer to them, close enough to reach out and touch.

“I am the beast you nurtured and raised. Concealing my claws and hiding my fangs won’t change what I’ve learned from you.”

She was a beast.

A beautiful beast. Born no different from others, yet raised in the arms of a monster.

“So don’t demand humanity from me. You raised me as a beast.”

“If it weren’t for us, you’d have wasted away on the streets, selling your body and arms…”

“Now it’s Mother who’s wasting away. What do you think will happen if I leave you in this room without a single drop of water?”

Her chilling voice sent shivers down their spines.

“How long do you think it’ll take for Mother and Father to become like obedient dogs on their knees?”

Despite not threatening or making any clear demands, terror swept through them.

“Oh, Mother and Father know better than anyone. They’ve been doing it all this time.”

She said with an unwavering voice, devoid of any emotion, contrasting her expression.

“So, I wonder when I’ll visit this place again in a few days?”

Helia turned her body.

Her posture was erect, and her gait was flawless, with her head held high and without bending her neck.

“Aaargh! I’ll kill you!”

The Marquise of Ricchiano clenched the dagger and sprang to her feet.

Clank.

The uneven chains scraped against the floor.

The slack chains were pulled taut.

Crash!

The chains anchored to the stake caught the Marquise’s ankle, dragging her.

Helia chuckled.

She watched the Marquise swinging the dagger clumsily. Her delicate hands were stained and dirty, but there were hardly any wounds. It was evidence of a life lived peacefully.

Helia lowered her gaze to her own hands.

Though not stained or dirty, her palms were full of scars.

She reached out and grasped the blunt dagger with her hand. Even with force, it only left deep marks without drawing blood.

Apart from being slightly sharp at the tip, it was inadequate for any other use.

“Admit it, Mother.”

She grabbed the dagger from the wide-eyed Marquise and tossed it to the floor, then bent her torso and brought her lips close to the Marquise’s ear.

“You’ve been bitten by the dog you raised.”