Chapter 1

A stormy night.
A middle-aged man sat in the study of an old house perched on a hill.
The man, just past forty, had withered hair as white as ash, and dark shadows under his eyes, perhaps from days of sleeplessness.
Only his two wide-open eyes stood out.
The man scribbled on a piece of stationery, as if driven by something.
Finally, he finished writing, placed the letter in a white envelope, and stamped his seal.
A seal engraved with a daisy flower was imprinted on the seam of the stationery, where red sealing wax had been poured.

—Tingling
The man pulled the string, and a butler, his expression tinged with anxiety, appeared in the study.

“A-Are you summoned?”
“Gail. Please deliver this letter to Hamel.”
“The letter… you mean?”
“Yes. And this too, please.”

The man handed the ring he was wearing to the butler, along with a letter.
The butler hurriedly opened his hands and politely accepted them.

“I will deliver them without a hitch.”
“Thank you.”

The butler was about to turn and leave when he heard the sound.

“Gail.”
“Yes, Master.”

The butler paused and turned at the man’s call.
—Kkwareng
Just then, a lightning strike ignited the spear.
At that moment, the man’s form distorted strangely.
A sound, like the growling of an animal, seemed to ring in his ears.
For a moment.
The crackling fire in the brazier warmly illuminated the room.
His master, with his usual faint smile, handed Gail a purse.

“You have worked hard.”
“Master?”
“You are now dismissed. This is your reward for your dedication to the family.”
“That can’t be, Master. I…”
“Get out!”

The man slammed the desk with a loud bang.
The butler flinched in surprise, but only for a moment.
He then bowed deeply.

“It was an honor to serve you, Master.”
“…”

There was no response.
The butler turned and headed out of the study.
A moment later.
—The clattering clattering sound of a carriage reached the study.
A carriage raced through the rain outside the window, pounding hard.

“Yes, that’s enough.”

The man, watching from the window, muttered in relief.

“I wasn’t a good father, but at least I shouldn’t burden you with this last burden.”

The man stood up and opened the desk drawer with a groan.
Inside the locked drawer was a sharp dagger.
The man, pulling out the dagger, stood up with a determined expression.

“Let’s end this now.”

Holding the key tightly around his neck, the man muttered as he approached a bookshelf in the study.
He pushed a book, and it slid aside with a loud clank.
-Crunch
Finally, a pitch-black entrance revealed itself.
A damp wind blew from the entrance leading to the basement, ruffling the man’s hair.
His body trembled like an aspen tree.
But the man didn’t stop.
With bloodshot eyes, he shouted into the darkness.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I’m ready now. Tonight, I will end this nightmare with my own hands.”

The moment the man stepped onto the stairs.
-Crunch

“…Oh, no. That can’t be.”

The sound of a pair of heels was heard from behind him.
The man’s eyes trembled.
He gasped for breath, his throat tight and unable to speak. The man creaked and turned his head, and a girl was there, looking up at him.

“Dad!”
“…God. Please give me the strength to overcome this madness.”
“Dad, oh my. Are you really going to buy me a dress today?”
“There’s no way.”

With trembling hands, the man aimed his cane at the girl.
The girl looked up fearfully and asked,

“Dad… What’s wrong? I’m scared.”
“….”

His daughter died.
A week before her debutante.
The day they had promised to help her choose a dress.
She was hit by a carriage and died while waiting for him, who was late for work.

‘But… … But why?’

The girl approached the man with trembling eyes.
Still, the man just stared blankly at her.

“Dad… What did Sophia do wrong?”

The girl lowered her head in a sullen voice.
The girl’s clothes, her voice. Everything, from her actions to her facial expressions, was exactly like her in life.

‘I… am I going crazy?’

Perhaps her daughter wasn’t dead.
In fact, her memories were hazy due to the madness that had been plaguing her mind.
It had been a long time since everything had become a jumble.

“Really… really Sophia. Is that you?”

Was it just a nightmare of his own that he had thought his daughter was dead?
The man reached out to the girl with desperation.
If she could touch him, this would be real.
The man’s hand touched her.
He touched her soft cheek and exclaimed in joy.

“It’s you! Sophia! You’re alive! Thank goodness! Thank goodness!”

The man reached out with both hands, stretching them out as far as he could.
The girl smiled faintly and said,

“What, Dad? You’re such an idiot.”
“That can’t be right.”
“…Huh?”

The man’s pupils shook wildly.
The girl’s neck was bent at an angle no human could bend.
With a cracking sound, the girl’s neck dangled and fell limp.

“I died with a broken neck like this. I saw it clearly.”
“Wh-what are you talking about, Sophia? I…”
“No, I saw it. My father killed me.”
“I… went?”

Unintelligible memories surged through the man’s mind.
Memories he’d never seen before.
A man driving a carriage drunk and at a rapid pace.
A short, death-scream.
A man, his face as pale as ice, drove away.

“W-what is this?”
“What do you mean? It’s my father.”
“No way… I couldn’t do that.”
“It’s you.”

The girl stared at the man, her body twisted like a broken-jointed doll.
The man’s jaw clacked.

“You killed me.”

It was only then that the man realized.

‘I… …killed my daughter with my own hands?’

No.
Did he even have a daughter in the first place?
The truth was irrelevant now. A crushing guilt consumed him.
The man’s trembling hand placed the sword against his throat.
Laughter was heard from somewhere.
Startled, the man looked around.
The girl had vanished.
And then he realized.
He was smiling, his lips twisted into a grimace.

“Ha, haha… haha ​​hot!”

Even as he burst into laughter, guilt and helplessness washed over him.
He had failed to complete his task.
He had failed to burn down this horrific home.

“…Ah. In the end!”

The man, overcome with madness, burst into tears, and at the same time, he laughed.
The hand holding the dagger slowly reached for his throat.
And then…
─Crack!!
Only the sharp sound of flesh tearing echoed lonely throughout the house.

─Thump thump
A dark night.
The rain pounded hard against the robe.
Still, the man covered in the robe remained motionless, like a stone statue.
How much time had passed?
The village chief, out of curiosity, ran to him in shock.

“Oh my, you’re all soaked. Are you okay?”

The man nodded silently.
Was it the darkness?
Or was it the pouring rain?
The village chief felt the man beneath the robe somehow inhuman.
Nevertheless, the village chief smiled awkwardly and thrust the lamp in.

“Don’t be like this. Get out of the rain.”
“It’s okay.”

The voice was flat.
For some reason, a chill ran through the village chief.
The voice itself wasn’t deep.
No, more precisely, it was like a boy’s.

‘If he is dispatched from the church, shouldn’t he be a bit older?’

He understood that deacons are generally twenty-five, and priests are usually over forty.

‘Surely they didn’t send a seminarian, did they?’

The village chief suppressed his anxiety and curiosity and spoke to the robed man.

“By the way, what’s your name?”
“Hamel.”
“Hamel… that’s a nice name.”

The village chief nodded reflexively and continued his questioning, his voice quirky.
The real question wasn’t the name.

“But you seem quite young, Mr. Hamel.”
“Yes.”
“Have you done this a lot?”
“Yes.”
“Really? For someone so young… Oh, my, I’m sorry. You’re so rude…”

The man who introduced himself as Hamel slowly shook his head, as if he were okay.
The village chief repeatedly apologized, but fiddled with the sword at his waist. Despite his polite words, the village chief’s gaze and gestures betrayed an emotion he couldn’t hide.
Anxiety and suspicion.
The more we talked, the more certain he became.
The face glimpsed through his robes looked like nothing more than a boy.
He had hoped, but it seemed the person dispatched by the Church before him was indeed a seminarian.

‘Oh, if he’s a seminarian, maybe it would be better for me to step forward.’

The village chief was a veteran of mercenary activities for quite some time.
He primarily hunted monsters and had even fought in wars between nobles.
That was why he, at only thirty, held the position of village chief.
That’s why the future seemed so clear.
The boy before him, with no combat experience, would most likely be terrified by monsters.
No, perhaps he was already frightened.
The boy’s reserved and stiff words and actions made sense.

‘Haa… …’

Things were getting complicated.
The village chief barely swallowed a sigh.
He was annoyed, but he couldn’t show it.
After all, he was a dispatch from the Church.
The village head couldn’t possibly complain.
However, it was difficult to understand the Church’s judgment.

‘The request isn’t even close to the level of sending a seminarian.’

Three children had disappeared from this small village.
And they were babies less than two weeks old, left at home.
If you were to weigh the gravity of the matter, it was by no means a trivial matter.
Perhaps the reward offered was too small.

‘Damn it. I told them all not to be stingy and to contribute some money.’

The village head glared at the mansion Hamel stood guard over.
It was the only noble family in this small village, and it housed a week-old baby.
The village head was deeply displeased with them, but the baby was innocent.

“Ahem. I don’t mean to brag, but I can also use a sword a little. If a battle breaks out, I’ll help.”

The village chief spoke, briefly revealing his sword.
Hamel, still robed, stared at him silently without reply.

‘…… This.’

Perhaps he was offended.
No matter what anyone says, they are experts at dealing with demons.
Rumor has it that some priests are proud of it.
Let alone a reckless seminarian.
And even more so for a reckless seminarian.
For the village chief to be offered help by someone him must have been offended.
The chief finally remembered that he hadn’t even shown the mercenary badge and hurriedly asked.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I actually used to be a mercenary….”

But he didn’t finish.
-KYAAAk!
A shriek that tore through the chief’s body.
And that place….

“This isn’t the house.”

Hamel spoke again, his voice flat.
But this time, it was as cold as ice, and the chief stuttered without realizing it.

“That… that. Besides this house, there is another child born on the same day…”

Hamel didn’t listen to the village chief’s words.
He simply turned and began running in the direction of the sound.
There was no sigh, no click of the tongue but the village chief saw.
Hamel’s gaze, cold and sullen, passed over him.
His heart clenched and breath got caught in his throat.

‘This a novice…?’

Something felt off.
He couldn’t explain why, and he had no time to think.
The village chief, realizing that perhaps his prediction was wrong, hurried after Hamel.
There was no sign of hesitation or tension as Hamel walked away.