Chapter 8
Still dazed, Ellie forced herself to move.
Like a caterpillar inching across the ground, she dragged her body forward. The rough surface of the wooden barrel scraped the skin from her arms and legs, but she had no time to care about the pain.
At last, she managed to wriggle free.
Panting heavily, she steadied her breathing and looked around.
The man who had been scratching at the barrel earlier now lay perfectly still. A pool of blood spread beneath him, and the metallic scent of fresh blood hung thick in the air.
Her body trembled on its own, but she clenched her teeth and searched desperately for anything sharp enough to cut the ropes binding her wrists and ankles.
As she scanned the ground for a jagged stone, her eyes caught the dagger tucked into the fallen man’s belt.
That dagger…
It had the same-colored hilt as the one Pito always carried.
Only then did she realize that the blood-soaked corpse sprawled on the ground was Pito.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips.
Frozen in place, she searched the area once more, but Bron and the others were nowhere to be seen.
She had no idea what had happened.
Still, she slowly crawled toward Pito’s body.
The sticky blood clung to her hands and knees, and the overwhelming stench made bile rise in her throat again and again. Somehow, she swallowed it back and pulled the dagger free from his belt.
Then she began sawing at the ropes.
“Hah… hah…! I… I did it!”
She had never handled a knife before. By the time she finished, her palms were torn open and bleeding.
But at last…
The ropes fell away.
Freedom.
It lasted only a heartbeat.
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
Someone seized her shoulder with brutal force.
Bron.
His body was shredded with wounds, his clothes hanging in bloody tatters, yet his eyes gleamed with terrifying madness as he yanked her upright.
“Let me go! Let me go!”
Half out of her mind with fear, Ellie fought back with everything she had.
She didn’t know what had happened here.
But one thing was certain.
If she couldn’t escape this nightmare…
This time, she would truly die.
Unfortunately, even battered and half-destroyed, Bron was still far stronger than she was.
The dagger she swung clumsily never came close to touching him.
He subdued her in moments, threw her over his shoulder like baggage, and sprinted toward the docks where a cargo ship was pulling into port.
“Where the hell did that monster come from? Damn it! Was it because of you?! Everyone’s dead! They’re all dead!”
Bron shouted incoherently between ragged breaths.
None of it registered.
Ellie struggled with every ounce of strength she had left, but it was useless.
As they neared the harbor, her strength finally abandoned her.
Unable to resist anymore, she took one deep breath.
If I can’t escape…
I’d rather bite off my tongue and die.
Just as she gathered her resolve—
Bron suddenly stopped.
“Y-you…! You bastard! Who the hell are you?!”
His body shook violently, trembling like a leaf in a storm.
Thrown over his shoulder, Ellie couldn’t see what stood before them.
But she could feel it.
Bron was terrified.
“D-don’t come any closer! Take one more step and I’ll kill this woman!”
He staggered backward, screaming.
His unsteady movements caused Ellie to sway wildly.
She didn’t waste the opportunity.
Driving her elbow backward with every bit of strength she had, she smashed it into the back of his head and threw herself to the ground.
Bron stumbled, reaching frantically to grab her again.
Then—
He coughed up a mouthful of blood.
His body collapsed face-first onto the stone pavement.
“That won’t do.”
A low, icy voice sounded behind her.
“How dare you lay your hands on her.”
Even in her exhausted state, the chilling tone made every hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
Slowly…
She turned around.
The man stood with the rising morning sun behind him, making his face impossible to see.
As her eyes adjusted, she noticed blood dripping from the silver armor covering his body.
Then she looked into his eyes.
At that instant—
Her dream returned with startling clarity.
That day…
Just like now…
He had stood before the cliff, clad in silver armor stained with blood, looking directly at her.
While she remained frozen by the memory, the sunlight shifted.
His face gradually emerged from the shadows.
His dark crimson eyes…
Silent.
Calm.
Yet overwhelmingly intense.
They pierced straight through her, exactly as they had in her dream.
For one dizzying moment, Ellie could no longer tell whether this was reality…
Or another dream.
“Every time I see you…”
His voice was quiet.
“…you’re on the verge of death.”
The moment the words reached her ears, overwhelming dizziness crashed over her.
Her strength vanished.
She collapsed onto the cold stone ground.
Everything faded into darkness.
The deep blue sea of Azulen shimmered beneath the fully risen morning sun.
Loras Rehart handed over three corpses—each personally slain by his lord—and one surviving woman, who had narrowly escaped death, to the Azulen Harbor Watch.
The moment the captain learned that the criminals had kidnapped a lord’s daughter to sell her into slavery, his face turned deathly pale.
Without asking another question, he immediately rushed off to send an urgent message to House Crowde.
“The rest will be handled by the Crowde family now,” Loras reported. “The innkeeper in Alderon and that coachman are already in the marquis’s custody. If they’re lucky, the people these men sold before can still be rescued.”
“They probably will.”
Tristan removed his gauntlets.
“Good work, Loras.”
Loras hesitated before speaking again.
“My lord… if I may ask…”
“What is it?”
“Why did you personally kill them?”
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“They certainly deserved it, but… this isn’t usually how you handle things.”
His master wasn’t someone who took lives without reason.
Bron’s gang were vile criminals, yes, but under ordinary circumstances Tristan would never have personally executed criminals in another noble’s territory.
More importantly…
With his abilities, rescuing Eliana without turning the place into a bloodbath would have been effortless.
“That…”
Tristan fell silent.
His gaze drifted into thought.
Loras stared in disbelief.
The lord… speechless?
If he ever made it back to Carlisle, he swore the first person he’d tell would be Deon.
After what felt like an eternity, Tristan finally answered.
“Well…”
He paused again.
“I suppose… it just happened.”
Leaving behind a completely bewildered Loras, Tristan headed toward the room where Eliana slept.
The firelight from the fireplace flickered softly across her cheeks.
Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm.
She looked far more peaceful than before.
“Ahem.”
Loras stepped into the room behind him.
“She’s much better now. I’ve healed even the smaller wounds with restorative magic. Once her strength returns, she’ll wake naturally. She should be ready to travel by tomorrow afternoon.”
Clearly proud of his work, the magician bowed lightly before heading downstairs.
Tristan lowered himself into the chair beside the fireplace.
The inn the harbor captain had hastily recommended was far more comfortable than expected.
The room was warm.
Only the gentle crackling of burning logs disturbed the silence.
Within that comforting stillness came Eliana’s soft, even breathing.
Watching her delicate eyelashes tremble every so often—as though she were dreaming—Tristan found himself remembering the day they first met.
“Hello! Is someone there?”
Even now, he could hear her voice echoing across the lake.
She had plunged into the tranquil water without hesitation.
Wrapped in white spray, she swam straight toward him.
Her pale golden hair, touched with hints of silver-gray, flowed gracefully through the water.
At that very moment, the late spring sun emerged from behind the clouds, piercing the lake’s surface and scattering radiant light over her.
If the Goddess of Water truly existed…
Perhaps she would have looked like this.
Amid the sparkling foam, those pale violet eyes looked directly at him.
Without the slightest hesitation.
As though saving him were the sole purpose of her life.
She reached out her hand.
“Mmm…”
A faint murmur pulled Tristan from his memories.
When Eliana opened her eyes, all she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling.
She blinked blankly.
Where am I…?
Her sluggish thoughts refused to clear, even after several dry coughs.
Crackle… crackle…
The sound of burning firewood finally drew her attention to the warmth filling the room.
Almost instinctively, she turned toward the fireplace.
Someone was sitting in a chair…
Watching her.
The man’s gaze was so calm and unwavering that, for a moment, she rubbed her eyes, thinking she must still be dreaming.
He was still there.
Startled, Eliana shot upright.
“W-who are you?”
Her voice came out like rusted metal scraping against iron.
She cleared her throat several times, but it remained painfully hoarse.
“So even magic can’t fix that.”
She stared blankly.
She didn’t quite understand what he meant.
After escaping that horrifying barrel and searching through Pito’s corpse for a dagger, she’d almost gotten away.
Then Bron had caught her again and carried her off like cargo.
Just as she’d decided to bite off her tongue rather than be taken…
Someone had attacked Bron.
And…
For some reason…
That someone had seemed strangely familiar.
She slowly searched her memories.
Then her eyes widened.
She whipped her head toward him.
“You’re…!”
Her cracked voice no longer mattered.
“You’re the man from the cliff that day, aren’t you? The one who nearly drowned in the lake!”
Words poured from her mouth in a rush.
The sight seemed to amuse Tristan.
The corner of his lips curved into a faint smile.
“What are you doing here…? No… where is this place?”
She was so flustered that her questions came out in complete disorder.
There was no doubt.
The man before her had been the one who struck down Bron.
Which meant…
Had he also been responsible for what happened to Pito?
For the blood-soaked battlefield she had awakened in?
Questions multiplied faster than she could ask them.
She opened her mouth again, only to realize she had no idea where to begin.
“This is an inn in Azulen.”
Tristan’s voice remained calm and composed.
“Your injuries were severe, and you lost consciousness. Bringing you here was the only option.”
Now that he mentioned it…
The splitting headache was gone.
So was the agony throughout her body.
Eliana hurriedly examined her arms.
The cuts.
The bruises.
Every last wound had vanished without a trace.
“H-how is this even…”
“My subordinate is a very capable mage.”
“…Magic?”
