Chapter 5

The agony of drowning is unimaginable.

The most despairing part? The magical brooch given to her by the head of the house for protection was tucked away in her coat pocket. And the coat was in the cabinet—while she was wearing nothing but a long white shirt, not even having had the chance to button it fully.

Those hands were trying to drown Talli in the bathtub.

Underwater, her eyes widened as she stretched out her arms, kicking her legs desperately. A stream of bubbles escaped from her throat.

The suffocation drowned out her senses little by little—there was no way to break free.

…She was going to die.

That was the only thought Talli could force through the last shreds of her rational mind.

She knew those hands all too well. Scarred on both the palms and the backs.

He wouldn’t die. He would come back sooner or later to kill her. But she hadn’t expected him to be this bold.

…Kristen.

Stronger than her will to survive was the overwhelming hatred that filled her chest in that moment.

She had never hated anyone this much—no, it wasn’t just hatred. She had never felt such an intense emotion, one that so easily shattered the dam of her rationality.

That raw, surging feeling took over her mind, driving her forward. Acting on instinct, her fingers found the porcelain jar sinking to the bottom of the water—and she swung it back with all her might!

“Clang—!”

The porcelain shattered, shards scattering into the water.

A rush of cool air surged in. Her burning lungs, stiff with suffocation, finally eased just a little. It was as if she had been reborn.

Her strength suddenly drained away. Unable to hold herself up any longer, Talli collapsed backward into the bathtub.

“Splash—!”

She slumped against the smooth white porcelain wall, her body drenched and weak, hands clutching her throat as she gasped for breath.

“Hah… hahh…”

For two or three long minutes, she couldn’t breathe properly—only managing to force out those shallow, raspy sounds. It took her a while to fully recover, the dampness on her temples a mix of sweat and steam.

In front of her—

A young man lay unconscious at the other end of the bathtub, his head tilted to the side. A deep gash split open his temple, shards of porcelain embedded in the wound.

Blood trickled down his forehead, staining the water red.

The scent of iron filled the washroom.

Kristen was, in fact, very good-looking.

Unlike the sharp and rigid facial lines of classical knights, his youth gave him a great advantage—his features were delicate, and his silver hair clung damply to his temples, making him appear peaceful and gentle.

—Of course, this was a sight that could only be seen when he was unconscious.

Talli had seen the young man’s eyes when he tried to kill her.

Like a poised hawk, sharp and concealed, filled with the resolve and will to deliver a fatal blow.

Those brown-gray eyes had nearly become her nightmare. Every encounter with him was like facing the arrival of death itself.

His shadow of death followed her relentlessly.

Even after Talli returned to the Fred family estate, even after she applied for the strictest protection order from the head of the house, he could still, like the most skilled assassin, deliver her a death sentence.

That intense hatred she had felt in the moment before her near death surged up once again.

As if something was urging her, compelling her, Talli’s trembling hand reached for a sharp shard of porcelain submerged in the water.

“You were the one who tried to kill me…”

She murmured.

Stretching out her arm, she pointed the sharp tip of the porcelain shard at the unconscious young man’s vulnerable neck.

Lowering it slowly.

Pressing it directly against the pulsing artery. Talli could almost feel the scorching blood rushing beneath his skin. Just one more inch—one more inch, and the storm cloud of hatred looming over her heart would finally be released—

“Yes, just like that.”

A deep, clear voice whispered right beside her ear.

A pair of pale, slender hands with distinct joints wrapped around her own, arms encircling her shoulders. Almost pressed against her, they guided her—step by step, leading her further down.

That voice was mesmerizing, carrying a deadly allure, coaxing her with every word, as if speaking directly into her soul.

Water trickled down the walls, drop by drop, pattering softly.

It was impossible to tell how long the tense silence lasted.

“Clang—”

Her thin, trembling arms lost their strength, and the shard of porcelain slipped from her fingers, falling into the water.

Talli curled in on herself, spine arched, like someone who had just escaped death. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body, chest rising and falling rapidly, too afraid to speak.

She didn’t dare look up.

If she did, she would see the deep blue mist surrounding her, its upper half drifting ethereally, while the face within it remained hidden, shrouded in thick, oppressive darkness.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

The pressure weighing down on her was suffocating.

“…”

She couldn’t speak. The fear of having her mental strength manipulated and seized had left her barely aware of what was wrong.

Had it been someone else in her place, they would have undoubtedly fallen into the trap of that alluring voice.

But unfortunately, no matter how pleasant the voice sounded, it couldn’t entice Talli into responding. Determined to guard her willpower against being breached again, she resolved to stay silent.

However, her trembling body completely betrayed her.

Compared to this unknown terror, even the threat of the “Undying Knight” seemed insignificant.

“You don’t seem willing to speak.”

The voice was cold, as if it came from directly above her head. “But who said answering a question requires the subject’s consent?”

Talli heard the crisp snap of fingers.

Before she could react, an overwhelming surge of potent, active magic flooded into her mind without warning.

Her vision briefly went dark.

The next second, as light returned, the voice questioned her again:

“Why didn’t you kill him?”

Talli intended to stay silent, but against her will, she spoke:

“Because… he can’t be killed.”

“…”

The moment the words left her lips, she realized what the voice had done to her.

She clamped her hands over her mouth, gritted her teeth—but the words still forced their way out.

“You already know his title?”

“Y-yes.”

Talli spat the words out through clenched teeth.

The voice paused, as if in thought.

“Since when?”

“F-from…the b-beginning.”

She was biting down so hard she was about to break her own tongue.

She couldn’t see anything in front of her—nothing at all—yet she didn’t dare turn around. She had no idea what she was facing.

Such immense magical power alone was enough to make her tremble.

“If he truly cannot be killed, then logically speaking, someone with such intense hatred like you should have been driven by vengeance—striking him down without hesitation, getting your revenge.”

The voice, however, posed another question: “Then why did you let go?”

Why?

At the height of her hatred, at her most broken moment—even when It had been holding her hands—she still let go, abandoning her initial intent.

“…”

Talli didn’t answer right away.

Someone under a Truth Spell wasn’t just forced to speak, they could only tell the truth.

If they didn’t answer immediately, it meant they themselves hadn’t immediately found the answer.

But if there was one thing Deritz had plenty of, it was time.

“Because…”

More than half a minute passed before the girl finally spoke in a hoarse voice,

“Because of you.”

“…”

A rare silence.

Then, after a moment—”Go on, let’s hear it.”

“Because of you, I realized something was wrong.”

Talli coughed a few times, covering her mouth with her hand. A strong scent of iron filled her nose—only then did she notice the blood seeping from her palm, scraped by the edge of the porcelain.

Yet she felt no pain.

Because fear had already taken complete control of her body.

“I’ve never felt such intense emotions before…” Talli continued slowly. “That’s why I knew something was off.”

She said, “This kind of overwhelming hatred is foreign to me… So I needed time to determine whether it was real or not.”

“…Hah.”

Talli ignored the soft chuckle that echoed in the air and continued:

“As long as I was willing to examine my emotions, it became clear… this hatred didn’t belong to me.”

It was false.

She paused for a moment, then added with difficulty:

“And once I found that first crack, everything else fell into place.”

“For example, I don’t have the strength to knock out a grown man in one blow.”

Someone—silently, unnoticed—had to have “helped” her.

A long silence followed.

Blood slowly spread across the water’s surface, blooming like pigment—layered, vivid, and dazzlingly red. Against the stark white of the room, it was almost blinding.

“…How rare.”

The voice suddenly rang out.

“Expecting humans to remain rational forever is a difficult thing.”

Talli clutched her palm, trying to ease the pain, when It spoke again:

“…I truly look forward to the day when hatred completely consumes your mind and actions. I wonder—what kind of expression will you have then?”

“…”

“Human, until next time.”

—

First, she had to leave.

Leave this blindingly white, narrow, blood-stained room.

With blood-covered hands, Talli twisted the doorknob, leaving a trail of water behind as she walked barefoot back to her room.

She could feel her strength rapidly draining away.

Her hands were already numb. She had lost too much blood, and unlike an Undying Knight, she didn’t possess an astonishing regenerative ability.

By the time she unlocked the double-locked door, she barely felt any pain.

Logic urged her forward. Finding a doctor to stop the bleeding was her top priority.

As she stepped into the hallway, the maids who saw her let out sharp screams. Objects slipped from their hands, crashing onto the floor as panic spread.

They all recoiled in fear, too afraid to come near her.

Their eyes—full of terror, shock, and disbelief—looked at her as if she were some kind of monster.

By the time she reached the glaringly bright main hall, the head of the Fred family was seated at a round table, speaking with Carl Fred. Hearing the commotion, they turned their heads.

A black-haired girl stood there—face deathly pale, lips drained of color, drenched from head to toe, her hands stained with fresh blood, leaving a broken trail of crimson droplets behind her.

“…Doctor.”

Her mind was hazy. Her voice was faint, muffled and unclear.

“…Get a doctor, quickly…”

I need to stop the bleeding.

The blond-haired boy’s pupils contracted sharply. He shot up from his seat, pressing his hands against the table as he shouted, “Hey! What the hell happened? Why is there so much blood on your hands—”

Before he could finish his sentence—

The girl collapsed like a broken string.

“—Talli!!”

Hurried footsteps filled the room in a frantic rush.