“What? He's dead?”
Clement raised his voice suddenly, sounding a bit harsh.
Elena nodded, her tone heavy. “Yes, the funeral was held a month ago.”
“How could that be? The contamination on him shouldn't have erupted so quickly...” Clement lowered his voice, sounding as if he were talking to himself.
Marcus's image rose in his mind. The memories of their time together in the past made it hard for him to accept this news.
Elena simply folded her hands over her lower abdomen, her fingertips turning slightly white. “But that is the truth, Clement. If you came looking for my husband, you will be disappointed.”
“No, no...” Clement took a deep breath, his voice strangely raspy. “Compared to us... Lady Elena, please accept my condolences. Marcus was a true hero.”
Elena lowered her eyes, the blue light from the lantern falling on her eyelashes and casting a small, fan-shaped shadow. She raised her hand to cover her nose and mouth, then stood up.
“Yes, I apologize. I have other matters to attend to. It is getting late, so please stay here for the night. If there is nothing else, you should leave tomorrow evening.”
Her voice was laced with soft sobs. Clearly, even after a month, she was still unable to move past her husband's death. She turned, the hem of her dress drawing a silent arc across the floor.
“Lady Elena—!” Clement reached out, as if trying to hold her back, but his hand hung in midair, grasping nothing.
A maid stepped out from a side door, her head bowed and her hands folded in front of her, her footsteps light. “My lords, please follow me.”
With that, she stepped aside and gestured for them to follow.
Lovene and Clement exchanged a glance, then followed behind her. Along the way, Clement couldn't help but ask in a low voice, “How did Marcus die?”
“My lord was contaminated to death.”
Contaminated to death?
Clement sighed. “In his final moments, did he turn into a monster?”
The maid's footsteps paused for a moment before she continued walking. “I am sorry, I do not know.”
When Marcus was dying, not all servants were qualified to be by his side. Thus, it was perfectly normal that the maid did not know what he looked like in his final moments. Clement didn't think too much of it either.
The maid stopped at the end of the hallway and pushed open a heavy oak door. Behind it was a corridor with two empty guest rooms on either side. Standing by the door, the maid leaned forward slightly.
“These are the guest rooms for you, my lords. After resting for the night, please leave the territory tomorrow evening. The lady is not in good health. If she is constantly reminded of the lord, she will be consumed by grief.”
Having said her piece, she turned and walked down the corridor. Just before she disappeared, she looked back, as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, right. The lady also asked me to remind you not to leave the lord's manor during the day. If you hear strange whispers in your room, close your eyes and cover your ears. The sounds will disappear after a while.”
Clement frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You need only do as you are told, my lords. Otherwise, there will be danger.”
She curtsied and turned to leave.
Lovene was taken aback. She suddenly remembered the wooden sign she had seen when they first entered the territory, which had faded words carved on it: “When the white mist rises, do not leave your home. If you hear whispers, close your eyes and cover your ears.”
Wasn't that exactly what the maid meant?
It seemed the Oswell territory held secrets unknown to outsiders.
Clement had clearly realized this as well. He looked at Lovene, but Lovene merely blinked and said nothing, opening the door to one side and stepping inside.
It was a spacious enough guest room. A beautiful landscape painting hung on the wall, and a double bed rested against the wall, flanked by nightstands with a blue-glowing lantern sitting on one. Disliking the blue light, Lovene lit the golden lamps on the wall instead.
Lovene sat on the bed near the window and reached out to touch the bedding. The sheets were dry but carried a faint, musty smell, as if they hadn't seen the sun in a long time.
Mia stood before her, hand resting on her sword hilt, scanning every corner of the room, including under the bed and behind the wardrobe. Only after confirming there were no anomalies did she lean her sword against the headboard and sit opposite Lovene.
“Your Highness, this territory seems to be contaminated.”
Lovene gave a soft hum and said, “The power of outer gods is infectious. It is naturally no surprise that the territory has been contaminated.”
“Then, are we really leaving tomorrow?”
Lovene pursed her lips and looked at Mia, a look of apology on her face. “The ultimate end of contamination is madness and death. I cannot stand by and watch the people of this territory reach that point. So, I am sorry.”
As the Saintess of the church, saving the world was her duty. Of course, she only thought this way because of her persona as the Saintess.
The real reason she couldn't leave the Oswell territory was that she had found an opportunity to gather people's emotions and increase her own strength. Contamination. She loved contamination the most.
Mia clearly did not know her true thoughts. She nodded and said in a low voice, “There is no need to apologize, Your Highness. As a Holy Knight, my duty is to protect, and I have never regretted it.”
Lovene stood up, walked to her side, and gently clasped her hands. Finally, as Mia's pretty face flushed slightly, she leaned close to her ear and chuckled softly: “Then, Mia, let us take a bath and go to sleep.”
“...Alright.”
Perhaps because Lovene was leaning so close, Mia's body was extremely stiff.
...
In the bathroom, the steam was dense.
Mia soaked in the water, which came up to her collarbones. Her black hair was undone, floating on the surface like seaweed, with a few strands clinging to her pale shoulders. She did not move, only staring blankly at her right hand.
She lifted her hand from the water, droplets sliding down her fingertips and dripping onto the surface with a soft plinking sound.
A hand that had held a sword for years should have been covered in calluses. Yet at this moment, her right hand was exceptionally delicate and smooth, just like that of a noble lady who had never known labor.
Ever since time had wound back, her body seemed to have begun changing bit by bit. The calluses ground out day after day on the training grounds and the tiny scars left behind by battles had all vanished. This hand was too clean to belong to a Holy Knight.
She pressed her hand against her cheek. There, the lingering scent of Lovene still remained.
...Reversing time?
She herself did not know where this power had come from. But such a power could not appear out of air; it had to have a source, a price, and some nature she did not yet understand. And it was highly likely related to an outer god.
...After all, she was born a 'monster.'
Rate on N.U.
