Chapter 11
Inside a dark, damp prison cell.
A woman with long, disheveled hair sat slumped in the corner.
Her once lustrous golden locks – reminiscent of liquid honey – now hung dry and corpse-pale, while her frail body had withered to gauntness.
A voice as thick as black ink called out:
“Calyphe Offensa.”
“…!”
Calyphe’s head snapped upward.
Beyond the iron bars stood a man with silver hair and striking features, yet his face remained oddly forgettable, like a half-remembered dream.
She lunged forward, gripping the bars. “You…! You actually came!”
“Thank Noah. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Hah! Should I ignore my benefactor being framed? I’m the one who saved her from that orphanage!”
The man’s lips tightened, but Calyphe didn’t care. She produced a shackle-like object from her robes.
“You’re going blind. Your eyes must be agony right now. You need this.”
“…What?”
“A monster-control artifact. You’ve been hunting this for ages.” Her cracked lips twisted. “Noah said you needed it for your eyes. Still don’t get the connection.”
“Irrelevant.”
“That’s why I’m curious.”
The man sighed. “I did need it.”
“…Past tense?”
“My sight’s already gone.” His tone was detached, yet his fingers brushed his eyelids with lingering regret – or perhaps guilt.
“Noah misunderstood. I sought it to stop the pain, not cure blindness.”
“A monster-controller… easing your pain?” Calyphe mused. When he remained silent, her eyes gleamed like a mischievous cat’s.
“Ah. It’s not your eyes. Your magic is the problem.”
The man’s gray-blue eyes widened.
“Your silence confirms it. The artifact suppresses magic flow. You needed an enhanced illegal version to control your own power – meaning your magic’s critically unstable. The blindness is a symptom.”
Her emaciated face bloomed with a triumphant smile. To an observer, she might’ve appeared the jailer rather than the jailed.
“You’re chatty for someone condemned to die tomorrow,” the man said coldly.
“How could I forget?” Her voice shook. “Executed under false charges… after horrific torture.” Despite her trembling, she raised her chin with Offensa pride. “Save me.”
“Why?”
“If the artifact’s insufficient, I’ll improve it. Otherwise, your magic will kill you – painfully.”
He tensed. She was right; his eyes burned like molten lead.
“No.”
“If freed, you’d burden Noah with your enemies!”
“I’ll fix everything!”
“You, who abandoned her?” He drew his sword. “Here’s your mercy.”
Thunk.
The blade slid between bars to pierce Calyphe’s heart.
“Die with dignity. My final gift.”
As life fled her widened eyes, the screen faded to:
[Ending 16: The Villainess’s Demise]
I jolted awake, nearly biting my tongue. “Holy sh—!”
No dank prison – just tea fragrance and rustling grass. Across from me, Noah scribbled notes, oblivious to my nightmare.
Just a dream!
Yet my heart raced. The game scene had felt horrifyingly real. Had obsessing over that silver-haired man caused this?
But the dream revealed crucial intel: his blindness stemmed from magical corruption. My medical text mentioned similar cases – “magic thirst,” where sufferers instinctively seek magic-rich objects. Restoring his magic seemed impossible… unless I obtained that illegal artifact.
Problem? Finding him. Days of attending noble events yielded nothing. People fled at my approach, and silver-haired men became rare as unicorns.
“Done, Lady Calyphe.” Noah offered her notebook timidly.
“Nine out of ten correct!” I praised. Her writing had improved dramatically since we’d started lessons. “My protégé excels!”
I reached to pat her head – she flinched. Idiot! I covered with, “One wrong means confiscating a chocolate.”
Instead of sulking, Noah thrust her treat toward me. “H-here!”
“Feeding me?”
“I… didn’t mean to refuse before…” Crimson-cheeked, she stared at her lap.
“I understand.”
“Y-you do?”
“Everyone fears something.”
“…Huh?”
“You’re embarrassed for acting scared earlier, right?”
Her pouty face was absurdly cute. Look at her now, I thought, glaring like I’ve insulted her.
