It felt like being struck on the back of the head.
The very first thought that came to mind was this:
‘Is he insane?’
And the thought that followed:
‘No, well, of course he is insane.’
But this was truly madness.
Even among black mages, who dealt in forbidden powers, there were certain taboos.
The foremost of which was bringing the dead back to life.
Life and death belonged to the realm of the gods.
No matter how noble a royal might be, death came to them just as it did to a beggar lying on the street.
Tampering with death was an act of defiance against the divine.
It was a form of magic so forbidden that even the most wicked black mages would not attempt it.
What’s more, it was said to come at a tremendous cost…
‘Who on earth is he trying to resurrect?’
The moment that thought came, one name immediately rose to the surface.
The late Countess.
The tale of Count Basilian, Kierne, who fell in love with a commoner woman he happened to meet in the Black Forest, was well known.
In truth, “commoner” was merely a title.
No one knew if she was a slave, or someone from the underworld.
Her background was entirely unknown—a person with no recorded identity.
And yet, Count Basilian loved her.
To formally marry her, he even went to the Emperor himself to obtain a minor noble title, just to make her a noblewoman.
After much struggle, they wed, and their marriage was so good they had three sons.
Then one day, the Countess suddenly died.
Countless rumors erupted around her death.
That she was pregnant with their fourth and died in childbirth, taking the baby with her.
That it had been a forced marriage, and she died while trying to escape from the Count.
That her body was never found, and the funeral was held with an empty coffin.
Wild, baseless rumors ran rampant, but none of them were ever confirmed.
The House of Basilian never issued a statement, remaining completely silent.
As it had always been.
Even before, the Count had rarely appeared in public. After his wife’s death, he shut himself completely within his estate.
For a long time, there was no word from him.
And then suddenly, out of nowhere, he appeared again, claiming he was going to adopt a baby.
“I don’t want to be complicit in the Count’s disgusting act.”
CA Ishuel zeon slowly moved his lips as he declared.
“And I certainly don’t want to help create the sacrifice for that act.”
“I have no intention of offering the baby as a sacrifice either, brother.”
“But if things continue to go the way the Count wants, eventually…”
Belzeon, who had been arguing with Ishuel, suddenly stopped speaking.
Then, he bit his lower lip firmly.
The shadows in the room rippled like waves.
The writhing shadows rose up as if they were alive.
From the darkness emerged a man with hair as black as the shadows.
“Are you having a fun conversation without me?”
A voice tinged with amusement carried with it the heavy stench of blood.
It was Kierne, clad in a hunting outfit stained with dark red blotches.
Wearing a faint smile, he strode straight toward Cheshire.
He tried to lift Cheshire into his arms immediately—but failed.
Because blood was dripping from his outstretched white hand.
The drop of blood that fell left an ugly stain on the carpet.
“Ah… sorry.”
As Kierne hesitated and offered a half-hearted apology, Ishuel frowned openly and threw a handkerchief at him.
Catching it midair, Kierne wiped away the blood with a habitual smile.
His gaze, however, remained fixed on Cheshire.
“Were you surprised, Cheshire? I came straight here after returning from the Black Forest.”
Blood was nothing new to Cheshire—she had seen more than enough of it in her life—so she wasn’t particularly shocked.
What concerned her was that something seemed… off about Kierne.
He was speaking as if everything were normal, but something felt unhinged.
Kierne’s eyes, dazed in a strange way, glowed as he looked at Cheshire with a smile.
“My daughter.”
Kierne grabbed Cheshire and lifted her high into the air.
“Cheshire.”
He gazed fervently into her pink eyes, calling her name over and over.
“Cheshire, Cheshire, Cheshire…”
Ishuel shook his head in disapproval, but Kierne paid no attention.
No—he wasn’t in any state to care.
He seemed slightly broken, his entire mind consumed by Cheshire alone.
“How could I ever use my Cheshire as a sacrifice? That’s absurd. I told you, didn’t I? If you just give me that one thing, I’ll give you everything.”
His words were incoherent.
It was a completely different side of him from the usual, when he would clearly state what he wanted.
Cheshire stared blankly at Kierne.
Taking advantage of the moment when the man, who was normally like a sly black serpent, had lost his composure, she threw out a question.
“What is it?”
Normally, Kierne would casually gloss over any unfavorable question.
But just this once, he was honest.
He looked up at Cheshire and whispered:
“Bring me the Fairy Queen’s crown.”
“…!”
Cheshire froze on the spot.
As she stood there completely stiff, Kierne beamed brightly.
“Let’s go to the Holy Empire together, Cheshire.”
This was bad.
Utterly and completely disastrous.
Cheshire slammed her tiny fist into the cushion with all her might.
She wanted it to make a loud thump, but in reality, her fist just sank into the cotton stuffing with a dull poof.
Still, if she didn’t do something, she felt like she would explode, so she kept punching the cushion.
“You should’ve just told me to kill someone instead!”
If he’d asked her to kill someone, she would’ve gladly done it.
With her beloved man-eating plant and her cherished axe, she would have chopped them up nice and neat.
“But you’re a black mage! Why the Holy Empire?!”
Why would a black mage desire a holy relic from the Hilderd Holy Empire? She couldn’t understand it.
The Fairy Queen’s Crown was a flower crown woven from eternally unfading blossoms.
It was a sacred relic of the Holy Empire, said to have been offered by the Fairy Queen to the Holy King in praise of the gods.
However, since it was an object created by a heretical being, opinions were divided over whether it truly deserved to be classified as a holy relic.
The conservative holy priests even insisted that it be burned immediately.
After prolonged debates over the crown, a recent decision had been made to exclude it from the official relics.
Still, as it was a rare artifact, they couldn’t just destroy it recklessly, so the Holy Empire opted for a more refined way of getting rid of it.
That was the “Little Saints’ Prayer Gathering.”
They would gather innocent children who had yet to be tainted by the secular world and award the crown to the child who best demonstrated their devout faith.
The true intention was to glorify the name of the gods while also instilling doctrine in children of noble status—future leaders.
The reason the event was limited to children was simple.
Ordinary humans could not touch the crown.
Only:
—Children under five years of age with pure hearts,
—The Holy King acknowledged by the gods,
—And fairies.
Only they could touch the crown.
Cheshire had heard rumors of the Little Saints’ Prayer Gathering.
People from the underworld were abuzz with talk that the Fairy Queen’s Crown would make an appearance and eagerly passed the news along to her.
But she had no interest in it whatsoever.
“My birth mother was a crazy fairy!”
There was no way she had anything to do with a queen of fairies or anything of the sort.
So why would she willingly walk into Hilderd, swarming with holy knights and priests, just to get a flower crown?
It would be like walking into a lion’s mouth shouting, Come eat me!
But thanks to Kierne, she was now heading straight into that lion’s maw.
“There’s a prayer gathering where babies come together, and Cheshire needs to win first place there.”
Misreading her blank reaction as worry, Kierne gently coaxed and comforted her.
“There’s no need to worry.”
“No matter what, I’ll make sure Cheshire wins first place.”
He chuckled softly as he said it, then even lifted her up and spun her around in circles.
Ishuel, unable to watch any longer, took Cheshire away and held her in his arms.
Meanwhile, Belzeon forcibly dragged Kierne off somewhere.
“I’ll bring him back to his senses.”
Left alone in the bedroom, Cheshire resumed punching the cushion.
After throwing a full tantrum, she let out a long sigh with a whoosh.
To hell with information gathering—she had to run.
And attending a prayer meeting, no less? It was ridiculous.
The very thought of herself praying in a temple made her gag.
“This sucks so bad…”
Shaking her head violently in disgust, Cheshire clenched her fists tight.
“I’m definitely escaping.”
Resolutely determined, she summoned a bit of power and created a butterfly.
“Bring Hata.”
Receiving its order, the butterfly fluttered its wings for a moment before vanishing into thin air.
Her loyal subordinate would find the Serpent’s Castle within a few days at most.
Once Hata brought her the antidote, she would take it, return her body to normal, and then leave the castle.
Of course, there was something she had to do before that.
A flower bloomed at Cheshire’s feet.
The flowering vines climbed up her small body.
Once she was completely hidden beneath the flowers—
Cheshire vanished cleanly.
She reappeared in the darkest part of the ominous Serpent’s Castle: the underground prison.
Life in the underworld had taught her one thing.
Kindness might be ignored, but grudges must always be repaid.
The moment you decided to forgive someone out of a soft heart,
You’d be swarmed by scavengers who smelled weakness and came to tear you apart.
“I got kidnapped—there’s no way I’m letting this slide.”
So, Cheshire intended to tear off at least one arm each from Morgan and the one-eyed man.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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