Chapter 8
Ellie forced her dazed mind to focus and began wriggling her body like a caterpillar. She could feel the skin on her arms and legs scraping painfully against the rough surface of the wooden barrel, but she had no time to worry about the pain.
At last, she managed to crawl out.
Catching her breath, she looked around.
The man who had been scratching at the barrel earlier now lay completely motionless. A pool of blood had spread beneath him, and the air was thick with the metallic stench of fresh blood.
Her whole body trembled instinctively, but she clenched her teeth and searched desperately for something that could cut the ropes binding her hands and feet. As she scanned the ground for a sharp stone, her eyes fell upon the dagger hanging from the fallen man’s belt.
That dagger…
It had the same colored hilt as Pito’s.
Only then did she realize the blood-soaked corpse sprawled across the ground was Pito.
She gasped.
Frozen in place, she looked around once more, but Bron and the others were nowhere to be seen.
She had no idea what had happened, but she slowly crawled toward Pito’s body.
The sticky blood and nauseating smell made her retch several times, yet she forced herself to endure it as she pulled the dagger from his belt and began sawing through the ropes.
“Hah… hah… I-I did it!”
It was the first time in her life she had ever used a blade. The handle had rubbed her palms raw until they bled, but at last she managed to cut through every rope.
Her freedom lasted only a moment.
A rough hand suddenly seized her shoulder from behind.
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
Bron, his entire body torn to shreds and looking like little more than a ragged corpse, glared at her with terrifying eyes as he yanked her backward.
“Let me go! Let me go!”
Even though she was nearly out of her mind with fear, Ellie fought back desperately.
She didn’t know what had happened, but if she couldn’t escape this nightmare, she knew it would truly be the end.
Unfortunately, even battered and half-dead, Bron was still far beyond someone like Ellie, who could barely swing a dagger properly.
He subdued her in an instant, threw her over his shoulder, and sprinted toward the docks where a cargo ship was pulling in.
“Where the hell did that monster come from? Damn it! Was it because of you? Everyone’s dead! They’re all dead!”
Bron muttered incomprehensible words between ragged breaths, but none of them registered in Ellie’s ears.
She struggled with every ounce of strength she had left, but it was useless.
As they neared the docks, Ellie realized she no longer had the strength to resist.
She took one deep breath.
If I can’t escape… then biting off my own tongue and dying is better.
Just as she steeled herself to do it in one decisive attempt—
Bron suddenly stopped.
“Y-you bastard! Who the hell are you?!”
Bron’s entire body shook violently like a leaf in the wind.
Because she was slung over his shoulder like a sack, Ellie couldn’t see what was happening.
But she could clearly feel his terror.
“D-Don’t come any closer! One more step and I’ll kill this girl!”
Backpedaling, Bron shouted hysterically, causing Ellie’s body to sway dangerously.
Seizing the opportunity, she slammed her elbow into the back of his head with all her strength and tumbled to the ground.
Bron staggered in surprise and reached for her.
Before he could touch her—
He coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed face-first onto the ground.
“That won’t do. Who do you think you’re threatening?”
An astonishingly low, icy voice came from behind her.
Though she was already exhausted, the chill in that voice made every hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
Slowly, Ellie turned toward its owner.
The man stood with the rising morning sun behind him, making his face difficult to see.
Squinting against the light, she noticed blood dripping steadily from his silver armor.
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her.
The moment she looked into his eyes, the vivid dream from earlier returned to her.
That day, just like now, this man had stood before the cliff in bloodstained silver armor, looking at her.
As she remained frozen by the memory, the sunlight shifted, gradually revealing his face.
His dark crimson eyes were just as they had been in her dream—silent, calm…
…and impossibly intense as they pierced straight through her.
For a moment, Ellie could no longer tell whether everything around her was reality or merely another dream.
“Every time I see you, you’re on the verge of death.”
The moment he spoke, a violent wave of dizziness overwhelmed her.
All the strength left her body, and she collapsed unconscious onto the cold stone ground.
The deep blue sea of Azulen sparkled beneath the fully risen morning sun.
Loras Rehart handed over the three corpses his master had personally slain, along with the lone surviving woman—whose vital organs had narrowly been spared—to the Azulen Harbor militia.
The moment the militia captain heard that they had been a gang attempting to kidnap the lord’s daughter and sell her into slavery, his face turned deathly pale.
Without asking another question, he immediately rushed off to send an urgent messenger bird to House Crowd.
“The rest will be handled by House Crowd now. The innkeeper in Alderon and that coachman are already in the marquis’s custody. If they’re lucky, the people those criminals have sold over the years might even be found and brought home.”
“They probably will. Good work, Loras.”
Removing his gauntlets, Tristan briefly praised his subordinate.
After watching him carefully, Loras asked hesitantly,
“Um… My lord. Why did you actually kill them? They certainly deserved to die, but… well… this isn’t usually how you do things.”
His master was not someone who took lives without reason.
Bron’s gang had undoubtedly been vicious criminals, but under normal circumstances, Tristan would never have personally executed criminals inside another lord’s territory.
Besides, with his skills, he could have rescued Eliana without turning the place into such a bloodbath.
“That’s…”
Tristan paused, his expression growing thoughtful.
Seeing his lord unable to continue stunned Loras.
The lord… at a loss for words?
He silently vowed that the moment they returned to Carlisle, this would be the very first thing he’d tell Deon.
“Well… I suppose… it just happened.”
Giving a vague answer, Tristan left the dumbfounded Loras behind and headed toward the room where Eliana lay sleeping.
The flames in the fireplace flickered gently across her cheeks.
Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
She seemed far more stable than before.
“Ahem. Her condition has improved considerably. I healed all of her minor wounds with healing magic as well. Once she recovers her strength, she’ll wake up. I’ll prepare everything so we can leave tomorrow afternoon.”
Sounding rather pleased with himself, Loras gave a polite bow before heading downstairs.
Tristan settled comfortably into a chair beside the fireplace.
The inn the Azulen militia captain had hurriedly recommended was much nicer than expected.
The room was warm and peaceful.
Only the crackling of burning firewood disturbed the silence.
Within that comforting stillness came Eliana’s gentle, even breathing.
Watching her delicate eyelashes flutter now and then—as though she were dreaming—Tristan found himself recalling the first day they had met.
“Hello! Is someone there?”
Even now, her voice echoing across the lake remained vivid in his ears.
She had plunged into the calm waters without hesitation, white foam swirling around her as she swam toward him.
Her pale golden hair, tinged with soft ash-gray, drifted gracefully with the current.
At that very moment, the late spring sunlight broke through the clouds and shattered across the lake’s surface above her.
If the Goddess of Water truly existed… perhaps she would have looked like this.
Amid the scattering bubbles, her light violet eyes gazed directly at him with overwhelming intensity.
Without the slightest hesitation—
As though saving him were the sole purpose of her life—
She reached out her hand.
“Mmm…”
Pulled from his thoughts by Ellie’s faint murmur, Tristan slowly returned to the present.
Eliana blinked blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling above her.
Where… am I?
Her sluggish mind refused to work, even after she cleared her dry throat several times.
Crackle… crackle…
Only after hearing the firewood burning did she notice the warmth filling the room.
Naturally, she turned toward the fireplace.
Someone was sitting in a chair, staring directly at her.
The man’s gaze, partially hidden behind his dark hair, was so calm and unwavering that she rubbed her eyes, thinking she must be hallucinating.
But he was still looking at her.
Ellie jerked upright in surprise.
“W-Who are you?”
A horrible rasp escaped her throat, like metal scraping against steel.
She cleared her throat repeatedly, but her voice remained painfully hoarse.
“So even magic can’t fix that.”
Ellie couldn’t quite understand what he meant.
She had escaped that horrible wine barrel, searched Pito’s corpse for a weapon, and nearly succeeded in fleeing—only to be caught by Bron and carried away like baggage.
Just when she had resolved to bite off her tongue and die, Bron had been struck down by someone.
And that “someone” had seemed strangely familiar.
As she slowly pieced together her memories, her eyes widened.
She whipped her head toward the man.
“You’re… you’re the man from the cliff that day, aren’t you? The one who almost drowned in the lake!”
Ignoring how badly her voice cracked, Ellie blurted out the words in rapid succession.
Apparently amused, the corners of Tristan’s lips curled into the faintest smile.
“Why are you here…? No… where is this?”
Too flustered to think straight, she stumbled over her words.
There was no doubt.
This man had been the one who attacked Bron.
Had he simply happened to pass by?
If so…
Was he also the one who killed Pito?
Had he been responsible for that entire bloody massacre?
Question after question flooded her mind.
She wanted to ask everything at once, yet couldn’t decide where to begin.
“This is an inn in Azulen. Your injuries were severe, and you lost consciousness, so we had no choice but to bring you here.”
Tristan answered in a calm, composed voice.
Come to think of it, the splitting headache and the pain wracking her entire body had disappeared.
With wide eyes, Ellie examined her arms.
Every cut, bruise, and scrape had vanished without a trace.
“H-How is this even…”
“My subordinate is a highly capable mage.”
“…Magic?”**
