The next morning arrived after the heinous night.
A wounded knight, his body still covered with bruises from the battle, approached the Mayor's residence to report the current situation.
He knocked on the door of the Mayor's chamber.
But the door slowly creaked open from the force of his knock.
The knight hesitated and remained standing outside.
"Excuse me, Sir," he said respectfully.
"I came to report that we are running out of food to feed the people."
No response came from inside the room.
Silence filled the hallway.
A few moments passed.
Then the knight noticed something strange.
A thin stream of red liquid was slowly spreading across the floor from the partially opened door.
The knight frowned.
A cold feeling crept into his chest.
Something was wrong.
Slowly, he pushed the door open further.
"I'm sorry, Sir… I'm coming in," he said cautiously.
As soon as the door opened wider, the horrifying sight inside the room froze him in place.
Severed heads stared from blood-pooled floor. Bodies slumped by the bed.The heads of the Mayor and his wife lay on the blood-soaked floor.
For a moment, the knight could not move.
His face turned pale with shock and horror.
Then he suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs:
"Someone has murdered the Mayor and his wife!"
Hearing his cry, the few people still inside the residence rushed toward the room in panic.
The news of the Mayor and his wife's murder spread quickly through the town.
People gathered in small groups along the ruined streets, whispering among themselves. Panic, confusion, and shock filled the air.
"Who could have done something like this?" one man asked another.
"How would I know?" the second man replied.
He paused for a moment, then said quietly,
"But I'm glad he's dead. He deserved it."
The first man looked at him in disbelief.
"How can you say that? How can you be glad about something like this?"
The man's expression hardened.
"Why wouldn't I?" he said bitterly.
"You lost your pregnant wife… and I lost my only daughter."
His voice trembled with anger.
"While we were being slaughtered like animals… the Mayor and his wife were safely hiding in their house."
The other man had no answer.
Not far away, in a broken street filled with debris, a woman sat alone.
In her hands she held a torn piece of baby clothing, stained with dried blood.
Her eyes were empty, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"Tragedy after tragedy…"
She looked around at the ruined town.
"Are we cursed…?"
"…Or is this town cursed?"
The wind moved quietly through the destroyed streets.
No one answered her.
New and mixed rumors began spreading throughout the town.
Some said the town had been cursed after Saintess Kyria failed the demon summoning.
Others believed the curse began after the battle with the demons.
Fear and superstition slowly crept into the hearts of the survivors.
Meanwhile, the men responsible for murdering the Mayor and his wife gathered inside a small, dimly lit house.
The atmosphere was tense.
One man finally broke the silence.
"Do you think… we'll get caught?"
Another man shrugged.
"I don't know."
A third man leaned back in his chair.
"Jor, Deilos… both of you are worrying too much."
The man beside him nodded.
"Astís is right. Stop stressing about it. And even if we are caught… who is going to punish us?"
Jor looked down at the floor, his face pale.
"But… I think we did something very wrong. Something unforgivable."
Suddenly—
BANG!
Astís slammed his fist onto the table.
"I said stop it!" he shouted angrily.
"We did nothing wrong! He got what he deserved!"
Jor slowly lifted his head.
"Then what about his wife…?" he said quietly.
His voice trembled.
"And what you did to her?"
The room fell silent.
Astís's eyes filled with rage.
He suddenly grabbed Jor by the throat and lifted him from the chair.
"Shut up!" Astís growled.
"What I did… was justice for the people!"
His grip tightened around Jor's throat, fingers digging in as Jor clawed helplessly at his arm.
"And even if I committed a great sin…" Astís's voice dropped, dark and cold,
"don't forget—you were all part of it too."
Jor's breath hitched, his vision blurring as he struggled for air.
Astís leaned closer, his eyes burning with something twisted—anger… or conviction.
"And sometimes," he whispered,
"sinners don't get punished in this world."
Nearby, Deilos sat frozen in fear.
His voice shook as he spoke.
"Arim… please stop Astís…"
Arim quickly stood up and grabbed Astís's arm.
"Let him go," Arim said firmly.
"Don't start fighting among ourselves."
Astís glared at Jor for another moment before finally releasing him.
Jor collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently.
Astís shoved him aside.
At that moment, the door opened and two men walked into the house.
"What's going on here?" one of them asked.
Astís waved his hand dismissively.
"Jor is worrying too much. Now he's acting like a saint."
One of the newcomers frowned.
"Jor, don't think too much about it."
Astís crossed his arms.
"I already told him that."
The man looked around the room.
"Have you heard the rumors?"
The other man nodded.
"It hasn't even been one day, and the news about the Mayor's murder has already spread across the entire town."
He paused and looked around.
"But where is Apagcho? This is his house, and I don't see him."
Arim shrugged.
"He might still be sleeping in his room."
The man turned toward Deilos.
"Go wake him up."
Deilos slowly stood up and walked toward Apagcho's room.
He pushed the door open.
Then—
He froze.
Apagcho's body was hanging from the ceiling.
The rope dug deeply into his neck.
His face had turned dark purple.
His swollen eyes bulged outward, almost popping from their sockets.
Deilos stumbled backward in horror and fell onto the floor.
Hearing the loud sound, Arim rushed toward the room.
"Deilos—what happened?"
Then he looked inside.
His face turned pale.
"Guys… hurry… come here!"
The others quickly rushed into the room.
And one by one, they saw it.
Apagcho's lifeless body hanging in the air.
The room grew silent.
Arim then noticed a small piece of paper lying on the table.
He picked it up and read it aloud.
"I'm a sinner.
I should not have done it.
Please forgive me."
Arim slowly lowered the paper.
He looked again at Apagcho's hanging body.
The corpse swayed slightly in the cold air.
A heavy feeling of fear and uneasiness spread through the room.
For the first time since that night—
The men began to feel something far worse than anger.
Guilt.
While on a long dirt road stretched toward the Holy Kingdom.
Dry wind drifted across the empty land, carrying dust through the air.
Thick clouds covered the sky, casting a dull gray shadow over the road and giving the atmosphere an uneasy feeling.
Shin Yato walked calmly ahead.
His steps were slow and relaxed, as if the empty road belonged to him alone.
A few steps behind him walked Kore.
The girl was only twelve, but her face held no childish expression.
Her eyes looked empty—lifeless, as if all emotion had long since faded from them.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Kore broke the silence.
"Are you sure this route leads to the Holy Kingdom?"
Her voice was quiet.
Flat.
Almost mechanical.
Shin Yato stopped walking.
He slowly turned his head and looked back at her.
For a moment, his eyes studied her expressionless face.
Then a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Oh...you finally talk?"
His voice was calm, but there was a hint of amusement in it.
Kore said nothing.
She simply stared at him with those same empty eyes.
Shin Yato looked forward again and shrugged slightly.
"I don't know."
The wind blew softly across the road.
Neither of them spoke again.
Minutes later, something appeared beside the road.
A broken wagon lay on its side.
One of the wheels had snapped, and the wood was splintered as if it had been attacked violently.
Shin Yato slowed his steps.
Kore's eyes shifted toward the wagon.
Then they saw them.
Bandits.
Two bandits were crouched beside a corpse, hacking the body into pieces, their blades rising and falling while they laughed.
Nearby, two others were rummaging through scattered bags and clothing, stuffing coins and valuables into their pockets.
And a few steps away—
Another bandit had forced a woman onto the ground.
She struggled weakly beneath him, her desperate cries barely carrying through the wind.
The bandits only laughed louder.
Kore stopped walking.
Her small body froze.
Not because of the scene.
She had already seen more horrified things.
Her empty eyes remained fixed on the bandits.
Shin Yato looked at the bandits calmly.
No anger.
No shock.
Just quiet observation.
Then he spoke.
"…Bandits."
His tone carried no emotion.
Shin Yato's shadow lengthened across bandits. They didn't notice.