Chapter 17: Buried Madness

Tap, tap, tap…

In the stillness of the forest—

A young girl dressed in tattered grey darted between the trees and bushes.

In her hand she gripped a bloodied dagger.

Her ragged clothes were soaked with blood and dirt, and her body was covered in wounds, both large and small, all caked with grime.

Her eyes were dull and lifeless, lips muttering ceaselessly.

She ran as fast as her body allowed, red bangs stuck to her sweat-soaked, mud-streaked skin.

Clunk.

Her foot hit a rock.

She fell.

The dagger slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the ground.

She tumbled, rolled twice, and finally came to a halt.

“Big sister… big sister…”

Lorabelle slowly pushed herself up from the ground.

She didn’t even glance at the new injury on her ankle—she simply picked up the dagger and began limping forward again.

She’d been running through the forest for nearly two days.

She had no idea where she was, only that she needed to keep going, always forward.

The bandits probably knew she’d get lost and die in the woods, which was why they had let her go so casually.

She didn’t know how long she’d been walking.

The sun eventually dipped behind the horizon, and the sparse moonlight failed to pierce the dense canopy overhead.

Darkness consumed the forest, save for a few fireflies flickering like dying stars in the black.

The wounds on the girl’s body had grown worse.

Some had already become infected, oozing pus and blood.

After two days with no food or water, her body was reaching its limit.

At last, she could no longer run.

“Big sister… I came… to save you… big sister…”

Lorabelle collapsed completely, her strength giving out.

Tears streamed from her eyes, dampening her dirt-caked cheeks. Her lips, dry and cracked, still tried to call out to her sister.

At last, her eyes closed, and she lost consciousness entirely.

*****

When she opened her eyes again, Lorabelle saw an unfamiliar ceiling.

She shot upright with a gasp and scanned her surroundings.

She was lying on a bed adorned with golden embroidery and inlaid gems.

The tea set on the table and the door across the room were just as lavish.

“Where… am I?”

“Big sister… I have to find my big sister!”

She tried to get out of bed, but the instant she moved, pain exploded through her limbs.

She couldn’t stop a cry of agony from slipping out.

She looked down at herself—her filthy rags had been replaced with clean clothes, and all four limbs were tightly wrapped in bandages, immobilizing her.

“How bothersome…”

Lorabelle tried to yank off the bandages by force, but the moment her fingers touched them, a sharp pain tore through her limbs—her rough movements had pulled at her wounds, likely tearing them open again.

“Ow…”

Click.

The door opened.

Someone must have heard the noise just now.

A maid entered the room, holding a tray with food on it.

“You’re finally awake, little one.”

The maid glanced at the bandages—blood was already seeping through. The girl must have reopened her wounds by accident.

“Let me help you change those bandages.”

“No! Let me go—I have to find my sister!”

Just as the maid reached toward her, Lorabelle slapped her hand away.

The maid sighed helplessly.

“His Highness Crohn found you alone in the forest. He didn’t see anyone else—certainly not your sister.”

“My sister… she was taken by bad people! I have to save her!”

“Bad people? Do you mean—”

“You can leave now, Triss. Let me speak with her.”

Before the maid could finish, a deep, weathered male voice came from the doorway.

There stood a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked hair and a thick beard.

Scars were scattered across his body—one particularly deep cut ran diagonally over his left eye.

He wore simple armor, with a wooden practice sword strapped to his side, and sweat still glistened on his brow.

Clearly, he had just finished training.

“Lord Crohn,” the maid greeted him with a bow before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

“Little one, what’s your name?”

Crohn walked slowly to the side of the bed and casually took a seat in a nearby chair.

“I’m… Eve Lorabelle.”

Lorabelle eyed the burly man warily, shrinking toward the far edge of the bed.

“Well then, Eve Lorabelle, I found you unconscious in the forest. You were covered in blood, clutching a blood-stained dagger. Can you tell me what happened?”

Sensing her fear, Crohn softened his tone.

“My sister… she was taken by bad people! I have to go save her!”

Her voice grew agitated. Just thinking about what might be happening to her sister at this very moment made fury well up in her chest.

“Uncle, can you help me? My sister is the only family I have left—I can’t lose her.”

“Do you know who these bad people are?”

“He’s a noble! He lied to my sister, said he wanted to marry her—but all he wanted was to use her like some kind of toy. He’s a terrible, horrible man!”

“And your parents?”

At the mention of her parents, Lorabelle hesitated.

It took a long pause before she finally spoke again.

“He hired bandits… and they killed my parents. I barely escaped with my life.”

“She’s lying.”

Crohn could tell immediately—Lorabelle was hiding something from him. His sensory magic confirmed it: the girl’s words were not the whole truth.

But he didn’t call her out on it.

Instead, he continued calmly, “The blood on that dagger—whose was it?”

“T-The bandits’…” Lorabelle stammered as she answered.

“Please, I’m begging you… save my sister. She’s definitely being bullied by that noble right now!”

“I’ll do anything. Just please… save her.”

Crohn fell silent for a moment.

He had a suspicion about who that “noble” might be. In fact, there weren’t many people in the kingdom who would be bold enough to hire bandits to kill someone—except that one man.

As a Holy Knight, it was Crohn’s duty to root out the evils plaguing the kingdom.

But if the “evil” in question was a noble, things weren’t so simple. He couldn’t just wipe them out the way he did with demons and bandits.

Dismantling a noble’s power required careful steps—otherwise, it would strain his political alliances and invite retaliation from other aristocrats.

Was it worth it to risk all that for a girl he’d never met before?

The answer, to Crohn, was clear: Yes.

Because he needed her, too.

“I think I know who it is. But I have a condition…”

“Anything! Just tell me! I’ll do anything if you’ll save my sister!” Lorabelle’s voice was almost shaking with hope.

“I want you to become my heir—and stay here with me.”

When he first found her in the forest, the trail of blood she left stretched far beyond the trees.

It would’ve been impossible for a normal child to survive losing that much blood. Unless…

She was carrying an artifact within her body.

Sure enough, after examining her, Crohn discovered something remarkable: her heart was not made of flesh.

It was crystalline, gem-like—clearly a divine relic, and likely congenital. Moreover, the relic seemed to be growing with her.

He was overjoyed. This girl could be the perfect successor to his title as Holy Knight.

“Okay… I’ll do it,” Lorabelle nodded.

The next day, Crohn acted immediately. In the name of the Holy Knights, he raided the noble’s estate and uncovered a hidden dungeon full of imprisoned girls—and even young boys. He didn’t report the case to the king.

Instead, he executed the noble privately, without ceremony.

The other aristocrats may have grumbled behind closed doors, but none dared speak up.

However, Lorabelle’s sister was not among the rescued.

According to the noble’s last confession, Aurora had realized something was wrong halfway there and escaped, running off to search for her siblings.

But despite all their efforts, they were never able to find her again.

Lorabelle’s mental state began to deteriorate.

The longer she went without seeing her sister, the worse it got.

Sometimes she would scream her sister’s name out loud, talking to people who weren’t there.

Crohn realized this was not behavior befitting a Holy Knight.

In desperation, he invoked forbidden magic to wipe her memory clean.

But… did the magic really erase her memories?

Forbidden spells weren’t outlawed because they were dangerous—they were “forbidden” because they never worked the way the caster intended.

In some cases, they even made things worse, exacerbating the very thoughts they were meant to erase.

Perhaps Lorabelle’s memories had never truly disappeared.

Perhaps they were simply… buried.

Waiting for the day they’d erupt back to the surface all at once.