Ch#86
The silence of the dark early dawn was turned into a muddy clamor by torches and footsteps.
“Find the patricidal villain who murdered His Highness the Crown Prince!”
“These are His Majesty's orders! □□□ is no longer of imperial blood, so kill on sight!”
Yeremia was fleeing the castle with the help of Azazel, Tenebrey's guard knight. She turned back in fear at the frenzied, booming shouts.
They're all out of their minds.
To Yeremia, they seemed like people possessed by demons.
“Find and kill □□□ Leverdi!”
Yeremia's ears couldn't catch the name Tenebrey that the knights were shouting at the top of their lungs. The other parts were crystal clear, but strangely, that specific part sounded muffled, as if someone had tampered with it, making it impossible to discern who they were calling. Naturally, she assumed they were after her.
Because she kept anxiously looking back while running, she tripped and fell hard, her body stumbling greatly. Azazel, who had been ahead clearing the path, hurried back.
“Are you alright?”
“My... my ankle... it feels sprained.”
Yeremia's eyes welled up with tears as her ankle throbbed. Not only was the situation unfolding unjustly, but now she had injured her leg and couldn't escape properly. Would she be caught and die unjustly like this?
“I'll support you.”
“No, it's fine.”
Yeremia turned her gaze to Azazel, who offered to help her up. If she were caught, she had to send him away, even if it was Sir Azazel. Though it was a misunderstanding, she was being treated as a criminal now, and aiding her escape was no light crime. If discovered, he would pay a heavy price.
“Thank you for helping me, Sir Azazel. I can manage alone now, so you should return before you're seen.”
“Lady Tenebrey entrusted me with protecting you, trusting in me.”
But Azazel insisted on continuing to help her. Moved by the kindness of her twin sister and Sir Azazel, Yeremia's eyes glistened with tears.
Unable to run far due to her throbbing ankle, they had no choice but to hide in the nearby forest. The woods behind the palace were the Emperor's hunting grounds—vast and dense with trees, perfect for concealment.
“This place should be good for a short rest.”
“Thank you.”
After confirming no knights were around, Azazel helped Yeremia lean against a tree trunk. The relief was short-lived as the sound of footsteps crunching twigs echoed. Unable to find traces outside, they had expanded the search into the forest.
“She might have fled into the forest—search every inch!”
Torchlights flickered beyond the bushes; now they were checking the woods too. Yeremia clamped her mouth shut and stifled her presence.
“Sir Azazel, we need to get out of here.”
The dense trees provided cover, but they couldn't stay forever. As Yeremia urged him, a strange gaze turned toward her from Azazel.
“Ah, Sir... Azazel?”
“No need for that.”
“Pardon?”
Confused by his sudden change in demeanor, Yeremia couldn't understand why the devoted knight, who had been ready to carry her to safety moments ago, now looked at her like a tasty meal. Azazel drew his sword, as if preparing ingredients before a feast.
“Ugh...!”
She couldn't grasp the situation. Trembling, Yeremia looked down. The sharp blade was embedded in her stomach, invisible, with only the hilt protruding. Azazel had stabbed her.
“Ah, not here?”
Azazel casually withdrew the sword. A warm gush erupted from her waist. Without hesitation, he turned the blade and stabbed again. His calm, natural action left Yeremia unable to resist until the sword pierced her.
“Where was the tattoo again? Hard to tell just from descriptions.”
Tattoo? The image that came to mind was the dragon-eating-tail tattoo on Yeremia's stomach.
“What are you... doing...”
Dizziness overwhelmed her from the unimaginable pain. Clutching her stomach, her hands grew slick. All Yeremia could do was lean against the tree and breathe. Every inhale tore at her gut in agony.
As Azazel approached again, Yeremia desperately backed away, screaming as if dying. Driven by the will to live, she clutched her stabbed stomach and ran. Each step throbbed in her ankle, her body feeling skewered.
But blinded by the terror right before her, she momentarily
