Outside the small town, in the withered forest—
Crows circled overhead, letting out hoarse, jarring cries. Even though it was daytime, the forest was dim and gloomy, with barely a sliver of light piercing through the dense canopy.
A campfire flickered between the trees, casting faint light that barely pushed back the surrounding darkness. The shadows of the dead trees twisted eerily, like countless devils clawing at the air. A thin mist drifted through the air, adding to the ominous, spine-chilling atmosphere.
“Pah! You two idiots just had to take this cursed road. What a damn jinx.”
A mercenary wrapped in bandages spat toward an old man and a young girl tied to a tree trunk.
Yesterday, they had been inexplicably beaten to the ground before a fight even started. The mercenary captain couldn’t swallow that humiliation. If word got back to the main camp, the whole guild would laugh themselves sick.
So, naturally, he decided to take revenge. Fighting inside the city would’ve been too much trouble, so when this old man and young girl left town, they jumped them and dragged them here.
By now, that letter should’ve been delivered, right?
This place was deep in the woods—completely deserted. By the time that woman came…
He could already picture Irene’s tear-streaked face. Just thinking about it filled him with delight.
However—
“I suggest you think twice,” the old man warned, his voice calm. “My granddaughter and I carry a curse. We can’t predict what might happen if it’s triggered.”
He shook his head and sighed.
“Besides, I’m a man of the cloth. If you lay a finger on me, the Church will surely retaliate. Your whole mercenary guild would be wiped out.”
The mercenary captain snorted and jabbed a thumb at himself. “You think I’m scared, you old bastard? You’re full of crap. Curse, my ass. Even if your granddaughter was some Church-wanted witch, I’d still lock her up!”
Rita added calmly, “…The atmosphere in this forest wasn’t like this before. It only turned so dark and ominous after Grandpa and I arrived. Listen carefully—can’t you hear it? That faint weeping in the wind?”
Her words made the mercenaries pause. One of them tilted his head, listening. A chill crept down his spine—damn, it really did sound like crying.
A few of the underlings hesitated and stepped forward, unease written all over their faces.
“…Boss, I don’t think this place is right. Maybe we should cut our losses?”
The captain instantly kicked one of them to the ground.
It only pissed him off more to hear it out loud.
“We risk our necks every day for coin, and now a few spooky noises got you pissing your pants? Get lost! Don’t you dare call yourself my man again!”
The old man sighed and shook his head.
“Words can’t save those who insist on dying…”
“You’re right, Grandpa,” Rita said with the same detached tone. “I can already feel something approaching.”
Then she turned to the mercenaries, speaking as if explaining to children.
“Also, using us to threaten that big sister? It’s pointless. We only met once. No one would risk their life for a couple of strangers. You guys really aren’t very smart.”
“You shut your damn mouth!”
The captain roared, face flushed with rage.
Alright, Rita obediently shut her mouth. She had actually intended to warn them to run away earlier, but since they didn’t listen, there was nothing she could do. Once the cursed creatures were drawn in and devoured them, she and Grandpa could just clean up the monsters afterward.
After all, that’s how she had made it this far along the way.
She let out a light sigh. In the next moment, a shadow surged in—it was so thick that even a sliver of sunlight couldn’t penetrate it. Rita closed her eyes, unwilling to witness the carnage before her.
Those mercenaries were all ruthless killers. Rita couldn’t be bothered to save that kind of people.
Moments later, the screaming faded into silence. When Rita opened her eyes, her face was splattered with warm blood. She and her grandfather were now surrounded by undead creatures—skeletons, ghouls, and shadow wraiths.
Even so, Rita remained expressionless, as if the hellish scene before her didn’t affect her in the slightest.
A massive ghoul stood directly in front of her, its mouth crammed with the chewed remains of those mercenaries, now reduced to pulp.
Rita exclaimed, “Grandpa, they really did turn into scum!”
“They died from their own greed and ignorance. We clearly warned them it would be dangerous to get involved with us.”
The old man shook his head and sighed, muttering an incantation. In the next instant, it was as if a golden sun had risen in the darkness. Countless beams of golden light burst forth, sweeping across the area. Every undead creature touched by the light was reduced to ashes without even a chance to scream.
The old man broke free from his bindings and stretched his limbs as if it were all just a light warm-up.
Rita grumbled, “Grandpa, you could have saved those people. I thought holy men were supposed to be merciful?”
The old man cracked his neck and replied, “My dear granddaughter, you’ve misunderstood something. Mercy does not extend to scum. Besides, if we had taken out the undead first, we’d be the ones dead by now. I’m an exorcist—and you haven’t learned any offensive divine arts yet—so we can’t actually fight people.”
Take that solar spell, for example—completely harmless to humans and even grants them a buff to make them braver. But to undead, it’s a death sentence.
“Looks like we were saved by undead creatures again. Thank you all for always showing up to rescue Grandpa and me whenever we’re in danger.”
Rita bowed sweetly to the undead who were now slowly turning to ash.
Just then, Rita felt something grab her. She turned her head and met the gaze of a blood-red eye opening on the giant tree behind her.
So this bound-up tree was actually an “ordinary magical beast”? Well, that was unfortunate. Its body was enormous—a completely impossible foe for her and Grandpa. Her grandfather was a specialist in exorcising demons and undead. Against those kinds of enemies, he was practically divinely empowered. But when it came to anything else—like magical beasts or human bandits—he was nearly helpless.
The giant tree had already seized Rita with its vines and was lifting her toward its monstrous mouth.
“Rita!!!”
The girl shook her head helplessly. “Grandpa, just run. We can’t win this fight. I’m traveling because I’m meant to ‘die’ anyway. Dying sooner or later doesn’t really matter.”
Rita didn’t resist or struggle—she knew she couldn’t win. She had no purpose for living anymore; death had long been a certainty.
Only through her death could Roseweiser live on peacefully, even though Rita had never even seen her.
The world was just that cruel. Roseweiser was a complete stranger to her, yet Rita had to die for her sake!
She did feel unwilling—there was a moment of bitterness—but it all seemed meaningless in the end.
She was about to close her eyes, but then a silver light shone so dazzlingly it pierced through the despair.
A figure descended from the sky. Amid the tree demon’s shriek, a single punch smashed the monster into pieces.
As Rita fell, she landed into a soft, warm embrace.
“Irene… sis?”