"This spot should do nicely~"

A guard grinned like a fool as he sidled up to her, fumbling with the manacles binding her upper body.

"Little Te, we all know your story," he leered. "Fresh out of a demon prison, only to land straight in the Church’s dungeon. How’s that taste?"

Several male guards encircled her, their lustful gazes unmistakable.

Alquett didn’t reply. She merely tilted her head slightly, as if troubled.

Her silence sparked raucous laughter among the guards.

"Hah! Seems the little lady’s lost her mind—"

"Look, you’re ash in an hour anyway. What a waste of such a pretty body… Why not give us brothers one last ride?"

"Bet you’ve been shared around plenty in those demon cells. Do us a favor before you die—let your own people have some fun too."

"Don’t worry. We’re *skilled*. We’ll make sure you taste true earthly pleasures before you go—how’s that?"

Their hands kept tearing at her clothes, leaving no room for refusal.

Alquett’s expression remained calm. "…Aren’t you afraid," she murmured, "of the Cardinal’s judgment? He’ll dispose of you all."

"Hah! Judgment? For what?" A guard cackled. "Punishing evil demonkind is holy work!"

"With bodies forged by the Light, we’ll discipline you—a soon-to-be pile of ash—and bless you with sacred grace. Who’d punish *that*? Besides…" His grin turned vicious. "Who in this city even cares about you now?"

"Hmph. Always so high and mighty. Always poking your nose into our business." Another guard spat. "Ever think you’d end up in *my* hands?"

"Enough chatter. The ritual awaits. No extra trouble."

"Relax! The square’s right outside. We’ll finish here, then drag you out in two steps—"

Beyond the alley, a crowd’s murmurs swelled. The priest’s sermon echoed, honeyed and hypnotic.

Faint whispers—Viola’s and Lilith’s voices?—seemed to brush her ears.

Alquett sighed softly.

She’d never imagined this day would come.

Like a dream turned nightmare: in two days, the nation’s idol had become a traitor bound for the pyre.

Now she was less than a stray dog—kicked and trampled by anyone.

Head bowed, she let them unshackle her. In her dull crimson eyes, something dark and turbulent stirred.

As a guard yanked at her shoulder strap, she spoke:

"So… I understand you now. But… have you misunderstood *me*?"

The guards exchanged confused glances.

"Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?"

Alquett lifted her gaze. Her blood-red eyes blazed with naked, seething malice.

"Even if this Hero has fallen…"

Her hand snapped out—*crunch*—twisting the guard’s head clean off, helmet and all.

The severed head dangled in her grip, eyes wide with fading confusion.

"…it doesn’t mean *you* small fry are stronger than me."

A pale, almost relieved smile touched her lips. She shoved the headless corpse aside, then plunged her fingers into the gushing neck. With a wet *squelch*, she pulled them out, smeared the blood across her mouth, and closed her eyes in ecstasy.

The remaining guards recoiled. One stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet.

"…H-help!"

"Murderer!"

Alquett licked her crimson lips. Color flushed her porcelain cheeks, dotted with fresh blood. Her moonlit eyes—glowing an eerie red—locked onto the three survivors.

"So you *are* a demon! A Bloodline vampire! Brothers, arms ready—"

The boldest guard spun to rally the others. A wet *thud* cut him off.

Something pierced his iron breastplate. Tore through his chest. Plucked out a warm, pulsing thing.

"Hmm~ Want it back?"

She cradled the glistening heart, tracing its surface with a slender, blood-slick tongue.

The hollowed guard collapsed face-first, silent.

"MONSTER! RUN!"

The last two guards shrieked. One froze, urine pooling beneath him.

"Don’t run," Alquett whispered, appearing behind the fleeing man. Her breath warmed his ear as her fingers crushed his throat. "*Squelch*."

Blood sprayed.

Drenched in crimson, Alquett threw her head back and laughed—a raw, unhinged sound.

"Heh heh… HAHAHA!

"I *see*… I finally *see*…

"This is what I wanted… *This* is what I deserved!"

She turned. To the trembling guard on the ground, her blood-soaked face was a demon’s mask.

"No! Mercy… *please*! Hero… You’re our *Hero*! How could you—"

*Thud.*

Her silver spear silenced him, piercing his throat.

"Voices this way!"

"Who cried for help?"

"Trouble in the alley!"

The crowd’s clamor drew nearer. But Alquett didn’t flee. Couldn’t. *Wouldn’t.*

Leaning against the wall, she clutched her chest.

Her heart hammered.

A strange, electric thrill surged through her—

Cheeks flushed, breath hitching, her slender frame trembling with the euphoria of slaughter.

"*Ah…*"

A gasp escaped her.

Amidst the carnage and crimson rain, she’d reached a peak of ecstasy… This savage freedom—killing humans—was utterly, perfectly *liberating*.

…Seconds later, Alquett straightened. After a cursory wipe of her hands, she stared at the mangled corpses. A flicker crossed her eyes.

She’d killed her own people. Church guards.

No excuse could wash this away. She was now a fugitive, a murderer defying the Church.

The adored Hero. The nation’s champion. Gone.

Debts demanded payment. Four lives. Unpayable.

The cooling blood on her hands looked like filthy gutter water.

…No going back.

The name of the Kingdom’s greatest Champion of the Night was forever stained.

Alquett lifted her gaze.

Moonlight glinted on drawn weapons. Guards and onlookers flooded the alley mouth, sealing her in.