York had a dream—a bittersweet dream.

It was a few years ago when everyone was still young.

He and Lux were in the large room upstairs, seated awkwardly under the watchful gaze of their stern private tutor, books in hand. From time to time, the two would exchange mischievous glances, sticking out their tongues as the tutor’s back was turned.

On the manor’s vast lawn, Chloe, eager to show off her newly learned magic, left herself covered in ash and soot, drawing peals of laughter from Ellen.

Nia trailed timidly behind Liliana, watching as she played pranks on the servants.

Anhans and Molly were guided by their respective parents, engaging in cheerful conversations with Father.

And there, under the largest tree, Nierlis and that boy sat quietly, observing all of it—just like silent sentinels guarding the moment.

What a distant, yet beautifully vivid memory.

Everyone so alive, laughing, playing.

So carefree.

How he wished that such a scene, untouched by tragedy, could last forever.

---

"Mm... Ah..."

York's weary eyes fluttered open.

Fatigue weighed down on every inch of his body—a languor so profound that he couldn't muster the strength to do more than lie there limply on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Judging by the room’s familiar layout, he was back in his quarters.

Through the window spilled pale blue light; dawn seemed to have broken.

What had happened?

He vaguely recalled letting his guard down during the final moments, being struck by Lux’s counterattack, and then...

And then… what happened next?

"Did you sleep well, Brother York?"

"---?!"

A sudden greeting jolted him to full alertness. The voice was enchanting, light and melodic, with a curious depth of maturity hidden beyond its youthful clarity. Just hearing it brought inexplicable comfort.

And if such a voice was capable of moving him, its owner must be even more extraordinary.

"Please don’t try to move. You’re still very weak..."

The voice’s owner stepped closer, gazing down at him.

For a fleeting moment, York thought he saw a goddess manifested in mortal form.

Such beauty.

Such allure.

Silver-gray hair cascaded in graceful waves, capturing the faint glow of dawn like strands of moonlight. Her ocean-blue eyes gleamed with the depth and mystery of gemstones held in the cradle of the sea.

Lashes, almost crystalline in their fineness, framed her serene gaze.

A delicate nose, pale and soft lips, willow-like brows, and porcelain skin—all crafted to perfection.

His gaze followed the gentle curve of her jaw, the elegant hollow of her collarbone, and the modest fullness of her chest wrapped snugly under a plain sweater.

She hadn’t made any explicitly seductive moves, but there was something compelling about her presence—a quiet sensuality that felt beyond comprehension. Yet, this allure was tempered by an understated, dignified grace, erasing any trace of vulgarity and leaving only admiration, like gazing upon a masterpiece.

For years, perhaps all her life, this profound beauty had been ignored, shrouded in shadow. The thought stirred an ache in him, a sadness that bubbled to the surface.

"Nier... lis..."

"Yes, Brother York."

"Has the stolen radiance returned to you completely?"

"It seems likely."

"...You’re truly beautiful."

"Thank you for the compliment."

York blinked, his mind struggling to recalibrate.

"No... Wait... What about the others? Why are you here alone? Where’s Lux? And... the Great Secret Treasure?"

“...”

The radiant girl didn’t answer his questions.

"Nierlis? Nierlis... huh?"

A tingling sensation in his arm drew his attention, as if something prickled his skin unexpectedly. Was someone... injecting him?

His body, drained of strength, couldn’t muster the effort to sit up. He managed only to lift his head slightly.

Nierlis stood over him, holding a slim syringe, gently administering an injection.

With each press of the plunger, a faintly green liquid seeped into his veins.

At the same time, an overwhelming drowsiness swept over him, dragging him back into the abyss of unconsciousness.

"Don’t worry... This hallucinogen from Lux... it won’t kill you..."

Her voice seemed impossibly far away, yet hauntingly close all at once.

Warm breaths skimmed his ear; she'd leaned down, whispering softly to him.

“Remember... Starting now... Remember...”

**Remember. Remember...**

“The Great Secret Treasure is lost... Everyone else is dead...”

**Lost... Dead...**

"Including me, Nierlis… All of us are gone..."

**Nierlis too... Dead... Dead...**

“The Zerah Family has fallen. Only one remains. Only you, York Zelah, survived..."

**Only me... Only me...**

---

Watching York drift back to sleep, I withdrew the syringe and quietly left his room.

Half the mansion lay in ruins, littered with rubble and debris. Traversing it was hazardous—each step required erasing my footprints, ensuring no trace remained. Corridors, halls, and chambers greeted me with vivid memories—memories of my growth and life within these walls.

Yet, they held little sentiment for me now.

This place was merely a chrysalis, nothing more.

I spared a single glance for the room I’d called my own for seventeen years. Modest furnishings, books stacked haphazardly in every corner… A pity the books were too cumbersome to bring along.

I grabbed the pre-packed bag and hurried out.

There was someplace I needed to visit before departing for good.

At the back of the estate stood the stables. Normally teeming with prized horses, they’d been sent off during Harvest Festival—a tradition for temporary care at the outer ranches.

The place was eerily still.

I stopped in front of the second haystack from the left and brushed aside the coarse canvas covering it, along with a mound of hay.

Beneath the stack lay a man bound tightly in ropes, his condition far less dignified than his station might suggest.

"Good morning, Lux. Did you sleep well?"

"..."

"I sincerely apologize for the meager accommodations, but I ask for your patience—"

"Stay away from me, monster!"

"I see. My apologies."

"............"

"............."

"......... York... Is he still alive? You saved him, didn’t you?"

“Yes. I also borrowed your hallucinogen intended for Nia and applied light hypnosis.”

"Hypnosis?”

"I ensured he believes that everyone—including you, myself, and the entire Zerah family—is dead."

"..."

Lux struggled to rise from the haystack, but the veins under his skin bulged grotesquely, like some morbid tapestry of twisted blood vessels. He let out a cry of anguish before collapsing once more, his futile attempts rendered meaningless.

“I warned you against moving, didn’t I? Otherwise, the parasites within you will devour you completely.”

“...You vile woman..."

"I don’t specialize in poisons, but perhaps I’ll become acquainted with an expert one day."

"Then... explain something to me—how did you plant the parasites inside me?"

“You should reflect on what occurred during the dinner banquet two nights ago.”

“Dinner? Dinner banquet? What are you... wait... Ah!"

"Judging by your expression, it appears you’ve remembered."

"The mint candies... You hid the eggs in the candy! Molly ate them... and then I transplanted her heart into my body... That’s how!"

"Correct. From the second you completed that transplantation, your defeat was assured."

"..."

Lux’s face contorted, bitter and dark, resembling someone forced to swallow a fly. Then, resigned, he muttered lowly—

"Just how strong are you... Nierlis?”

---

The previous night.

In the basement, before the sealed chamber—

“This poison is far weaker than I expected, Lux."

“...What?!"

When?!

In the instant his focus was momentarily diverted, she appeared—silently, soundlessly, as if conjured from thin air.

"You... You're alive? When did you—how did you—get here?"

“Just now."

The silver-haired beauty dismissed Lux with a mere glance. She knelt beside York, inspecting the poisoned wound on his leg—the damage inflicted earlier by Lux’s venomous blade.

Lux’s stomach churned violently as he noticed the sight.

Countless tiny insects—squirming, writhing—crawled in and out of the jagged wound. It was sickeningly grotesque.

“I’m treating York’s poison. My sincerest apologies if this disturbs you in any way," she said, faultless composure in both tone and facial expression.

Her movements? Graceful.

Her demeanor? Serene.

No panic, no haste.

Even now, her poise was impeccable—as if danger itself were beneath her regard.

Nierlis Zelah.

The girl shrouded in shadows, neglected for years by her own family thanks to Liliana’s machinations.

From Lux’s observations over the past two days, she was at best a fledgling sorceress—a practitioner of limited skill.

But then...

Why,

Why did his spine tingle with dread?

The girl stood gracefully, smoothing her dress. She offered Lux a polite curtsy.

And then—

"Relax, Lux. Would you care for a mint candy?"

Producing the candy seemingly out of nowhere, she held it toward him with unnerving civility. Lux frowned but naturally refused the offer.

"...I thought you were dead, Nierlis."

“To your dismay, I am not. How lucky for me."

Step.

She advanced. Lux instinctively retreated.

The chilling foreboding was growing stronger, more potent.

“You... Are you here to—what, betray me? Turn the tables?”

"Perhaps that's close, though 'betray' lacks tact. I’ve been watching from the start, that’s all."

"From the start?"

"From the very beginning. Tell me, Lux—by ‘the start,’ what exactly are you referring to? The first day of Harvest Festival? Or when Liliana came into possession of that little booklet?"

"...Booklet? Wait... What?!"

That booklet.

If she was speaking about *that*—then it meant—

"No way... You knew about it that far back?! You knew Liliana was drugging you from the start?! You knew I stole the recipe from it?!?"

“Indeed. But I must ask—you’ve yet to consider how Liliana herself obtained that booklet, haven’t you?”

“W-What!?!”

“Why, precisely, did those records of the Demon King’s research conveniently fall into her hands?”

"............!!!!!!!!"

Lux stumbled backward, realization dawning like an avalanche. The implications were monumental—he could hardly comprehend the enormity of her words. Confusion mingled with dread; no contingency plan, no calculation could account for this scenario.

Had he always been... a pawn?

Were all of them just pieces on her board?

"Dammit!!!"

Determination crashed against desperation as Lux acted. He grabbed a discarded syringe from earlier—used during the fight with York—and drove it brutally into his own shoulder!

“Gugh!!!”

The illegal stimulant coursed through his bloodstream, the searing agony nearly blinding, but it delivered staggering clarity and boosted his mental energy severalfold. In this state, he could force through the restrictions he'd otherwise obey. This was culmination—​ a one-time-only secret trump card allowing simultaneous control over two individuals!

“Ellen! Chloe!” he roared.

At his command, a deafening rumble erupted above, and the basement ceiling caved inward.

Slashing spells collided with refined, martial prowess, effortlessly cracking stone and earth from the surface down to the depths.

The two figures causing the destruction—Ellen and Chloe—stood before him, thrumming with homicidal force. They were unwilling puppets, consciousness erased, capable of nothing but pure destruction despite their battered states.

"A high-tier mage and a high-tier Mystic Warrior..."

Nierlis didn’t so much as flinch.

She shook her head lightly, issuing a soft apology.

“I’m sorry... but if you intended to stop me, you should’ve brought enough power to rival three fully-equipped military divisions of a great nation.”