After the rain, the sky did not clear up.
Inside the prison heavily guarded by the Paladin Legion, behind cold iron bars, a young girl sat on a shabby gray bed. Her wrists were bound by iron cuffs connected to a chain that was anchored to the wall behind her. Her beautiful eyes were dull and lifeless; every time she recalled that fire, it was impossible to forget.
Krulu Sarather.
Not long ago, it was probably around the days when she had exposed Elcalan's conspiracy.
That night, a raging fire had consumed the manor house.
Almost all the servants and attendants were killed. Just as she wanted to find someone she could trust to investigate the matter and exact her revenge, an unexpected variable occurred.
Her uncle, who was also the current President of the Nightingale society and the Principal of the Holy Academy, had not died. Instead, he had stopped her.
And he delivered a suffocating piece of news.
“Your father is dead. Now, according to your father's last will, I will serve as the President of the Nightingale society and the head of the Sarather family. All the forces are now at my disposal.”
“Why...”
“Furthermore, Miss Krulu, I must break some devastating news to you. In his deathbed testament, your father not only named me the next head of the family but also denounced your numerous crimes.”
With that, her uncle handed her a letter.
The letter furiously denounced Krulu's crimes, while also offering hypocritical concern for his daughter.
To Krulu's despair, the handwriting was not a forgery.
She was quickly convicted and sent to a prison cell.
She would be executed in a week.
Krulu's primary concern now was how to survive.
She had a few friends and close confidants, who were also trusted servants within the society and the family; perhaps they would help her.
Before being locked away in the cell, she had used a communication magic slate to contact her brother, who was far away in a foreign land, in an attempt to seek his help.
After all, she was indeed falsely accused. She could easily guess how Elcalan had plotted to throw her into prison and brainwash the Saintess Faction.
The urgent priority was to escape the cell quickly and continue leading the Saintess Faction.
She stared at the wall, occasionally glancing past the iron bars. If the timing was right, someone would come to rescue her soon.
She felt lightheaded and dizzy. Even though her magic normally made her impervious to the cold, she still felt as if she were in an ice cave.
Her father was dead...
Without the protection of the Sarather family, what would she face next?
She stared at the wall, then lay back down on the bed, her eyes blankly tracing the ceiling as she rubbed them.
Why did he abandon me and then die?
Footsteps drew closer as two men dressed as butlers walked up to the cell.
They were both students at the Holy Academy, though a few years ago, they had been just ordinary people found anywhere. They were servants handpicked by the family head to serve as Krulu's attendants and had entered the Holy Academy to study... That was right, the servants of the Sarather family all had the right to enter the Holy Academy to study.
They were entrusted by the family head to protect Krulu at the Holy Academy. Therefore, no matter what accident occurred, they would prioritize protecting Krulu before contacting the family head.
However, both of them remained silent, unable to utter a single word.
“What happened outside?”
Krulu also sensed that the atmosphere was unusual.
To her surprise, the two of them actually fell to their knees. One of them said with shame, “We are sorry, Lady Krulu...”
“There is nothing we can do either.”
“Why?” Krulu pressed, demanding answers.
“The family head does not allow us to help you...”
“That letter must have been written because Father was coerced. Do not believe them,” Krulu said immediately.
Yet they remained unmoved. As she spoke, the other man also knelt on the ground.
Krulu could not believe these two could say such childish words.
“Miss Krulu, going against Elcalan is impossible... We must leave.”
“You don't have to pretend to be strong either. You must be very sad too, right?”
With that, they left without even looking back at Krulu.
Watching their retreating figures, Krulu did not try to make them stay. She simply lay back down.
Now, she just felt that everything was as surreal as a dream.
Is that so? I used to think I was a prestigious young lady whose word carried immense weight, but in reality, once stripped of the Sarather family's protection, am I truly this helpless?
Yes, as a girl, she should have wept over her father's passing just like anyone else...
Her father had treated her very well—one could even say he spoiled her.
She could even reprimand the bishops during their discussions, or ignore Ulrich's words and accuse others during meetings.
And now?
She yearned for her friends to come and find her, but that was impossible. No one was willing to risk their own life.
At night, soldiers brought her food.
To her further embarrassment, the greedy guards seemed to have a sick sense of humor. They loved to torment prisoners, and seeing a prestigious young lady like Krulu only triggered their deep-seated inferiority complexes.
They spat into the food sent to Krulu's cell, using this method to humiliate the young lady.
“Eat up, you damn Sarather, hahaha...”
“This is how your life is going to be from now on anyway. I suggest you beg us for mercy sooner rather than later!”
Krulu said nothing and did not touch the food.
She simply stared at the ceiling, thinking. What should she do once she got out of this cell?
The heir to the Sarather family should have been her...
Father, was that deathbed testament truly your own wish?
Night fell.
Krulu did not sleep. Having been lying on the bed, she now curled up, hugging her knees.
She buried her head in her knees, as if the entire world had begun to grow unimaginably cold.
The next morning arrived quickly.
But throughout the entire day, no one came to see her. The prison was so quiet that she could clearly hear the sound of dripping water in the distance.
The musty, moldy smell of the walls kept Krulu on edge all day. She did not know how she managed to endure it.
It was not until the third day that someone finally came to see her.
The person she had been waiting for was not her brother.
Instead, it was a chubby, bearded man.
His face resembled a brick, with clearly visible wrinkles. He was slightly hunched, and two guards followed behind him.
“Hello, Krulu. I am Bishop Wade. Under orders from Bishop Aether, I am here to deliver a keepsake from your brother to you.”
With that, he took a suitcase from the guards and threw it into the cell.
The air was thick with the scent of blood, and that scent emanated from the suitcase.
For some reason, Krulu already knew what was about to happen.
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