The Terms of a Traitor
Drip. Drip.
An eerie sound tapped against the floor.
Every time a few drops of some liquid flowed in this dark, dreary place, a chill ran down my spine. The coldness crawling up my back soon spread goosebumps across my entire body.
Theo finally spoke.
"Ah. Right. I did gag your mouth, didn't I? Of course you can't talk. Silly me — what a mistake."
His blue eyes, adjusted to the darkness, illuminated the figure approaching him. He came closer slowly, then lowered his stance.
"But, my lady. You mustn't scream. Understood?"
The gag fell from her mouth.
She screamed immediately.
"HELP!!"
This place had to be inside some building or other.
And if so, then someone would surely come to help.
Her voice was hardly quiet, and after the scream she'd even called for help — surely someone, somewhere, would have heard. The moment anyone learned they'd laid a hand on the youngest daughter of the Bagrand Ducal House, they would rush to her aid without fail.
And yet, despite shouting with all her strength, her surroundings remained utterly silent.
It meant no response was coming.
Except from Theo, who was grinning like a madman right before her eyes.
"My lady, whatever are you doing? If you keep this up, I'll be caught and branded as the villain who kidnapped you. Not that... it matters. No one's going to hear you anyway."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Because this isn't the ducal estate."
Flora's eyes began to tremble. Her pupils, fully dilated in the darkness, started to take in Theo's expression with terrible clarity.
"Don't worry, Lady Flora. You've done nothing wrong. The one at fault is that man, after all?"
Theo Ramstair, who had always smiled at her. His kind smile and considerate manner had soothed her heart every time she saw them.
But the smile she was looking at now...
was not the face of the considerate, kind man she had always known.
This person... and I never noticed, all this time?
Only now did she feel the wrongness. Only now could she see what had been hiding behind that smile.
She had fallen, completely and utterly, for that artificially constructed mask. And because of it, knowing nothing at all, she had done that to Karsein...
Theo stepped back, sat down in a chair, and began wrapping a bandage around his wound.
"I didn't want to bring you here this way, my lady."
"What?"
"I told you, didn't I? All I ever intended was to deal with that man. Dealt with him properly and cleanly — but you wouldn't come to the tribunal, so my innocence can't be proven, can it?"
"..."
"If you had helped me. If you had taken my side at the tribunal. If you had proven my innocence and condemned that man's crimes, I would never have been driven this far. Why didn't you come?"
Absurd. Even if she had been there, she would never have taken Theo's side.
"...Ah, come to think of it, I heard from that idiot who got himself kicked out of the 2nd Knight Order for acting like a fool — he said you weren't even allowed into the tribunal. That's it, isn't it?"
Flora maintained a stubborn silence. Theo responded with a nauseating smile, as if to say, of course.
"So that man must have pulled his little tricks again. That's right. After all the loyalty I devoted to you, my lady, surely you wouldn't have tried to betray me."
"Don't you dare say that disgusting word. Loyalty."
"...My lady?"
"What you offered me wasn't loyalty — it was nothing but groveling to win my favor!"
Even with her arms bound behind her back.
Even with her legs fastened to the chair.
Even with her whole body bound tight, Flora had to say this.
"You wretch. I should never have trusted someone like you from the start...!"
Theo's expression turned sinister as he gripped her shoulders.
"Now, now, my lady. You mustn't say such things."
"Get your hands off me!"
"You have to talk to me, Lady Flora. I went to the trouble of removing your gag — if you say nothing, of course I'm going to get angry, aren't I?"
Theo seized the shoulders of the struggling Flora, who was desperately trying to shake off his hands, with far greater force. Then he leaned in and showed her the wound, still bleeding from where the sword had cut him.
"Look at what I've been reduced to, thanks to you. I had to fetch that fool expelled from the 2nd Knight Order for acting like an idiot, break out, and silence every single pair of watching eyes — that's why I look like this. I schemed my way around the Brand for your sake, and even staged a prison break before being dragged off to the Tulea Mine, that living hell...! You mustn't do this. Understood?"
With bulging eyes, he spoke.
"Ahaha, that's right. Of course you might have been taken in by that bastard Karsein's silver tongue too. But one word from you and everything will be resolved. We'll get rid of that man Karsein from the ducal house for good — and pin all my crimes on him."
He crouched down low.
With those same hands — the hands that had killed the warden, Emma, and his own men.
"Now. Let's start over. Your one and only knight, Theo Ramstair, is going to kill the vicious criminal known as Karsein Bagrand right here. And then I'll be absolved. Rewarded, even — for eliminating the man who kidnapped you."
Something this much, you can manage easily, can't you?
That was how Theo said it, with a lewd, mocking smile.
Ptooey!
Thin spit, born of a heart brimming with betrayal, splattered across Theo's face.
"M-my lady? What... what do you think you're doing?"
"Someone like you... I...!"
Flora could not contain her fury at his revolting words.
He wiped the sticky liquid away indifferently with his sleeve — and only then revealed his true nature.
"You fucking bitch. I kept treating you like a lady, and this is what you pull on me? Now I've really had it!"
"KYAAH!!"
Flora's golden hair was seized in a savage grip.
"Do you have any idea how much effort I wasted because of you, you witch? Do you know how tiresome it is to babysit a spoiled little brat who knows nothing of the world and does nothing but whine?"
"Let go of me! Let GO!"
"Of all the nobles out there, a whiny little brat like you is the worst kind. And the only reason I stuck around here was because of the Bagrand Ducal House. Because of your bloodline, and nothing else. You damned wench."
Unable to hold back, Flora spat in Theo's face again.
"Ha. This bitch still hasn't come to her senses?"
Theo's hand rose high.
SLAP!
A red mark bloomed across that precious cheek — the cheek no one but her mother had ever dared touch.
"You damned bitch. You still can't grasp the situation? You think you're the youngest of Bagrand right now? You're trapped in here. Unless I let you out, you're just a girl locked away somewhere no one will ever find."
"...!"
"I spoiled you, indulged your every whim — and that made you think I was actually beneath you, didn't it? When compared to your two older sisters, you have nothing. You've never accomplished a single thing worth boasting about."
She couldn't bring herself to open her mouth.
Her two older sisters were capable enough to shoulder the affairs of House Bagrand on their own. Compared to them, Flora was pathetic — she hated reading even a single passage of text, kept her distance from books, and was a fool who could do nothing at all.
And so, when disaster like this actually struck, she had no idea what to do.
She should have watched for the moment her gag came loose and screamed for help. She should have called out for someone to save her.
She knew how to do nothing.
He's... right. About all of it.
The world outside the ducal estate was a treacherous place. Nothing that happened there would be strange — not even being kidnapped, like this, right now.
The glamour of being the duchy's daughter had drawn Theo Ramstair's covetous eye. And with nothing to her name but her body, stripped of even her title, there was nothing she could do.
Reaching out from that cold, dark, terrifying place, the hand that had grasped hers had borne, beneath its kindness, the lingering shadow of malice.
And he had tried to use her.
To make Karsein into a criminal.
Not a single one of Karsein's words — the ones she'd heard long ago — had been wrong. That this world was far, far too cruel. Only now did she understand.
And so, trembling all over, Flora was still able to answer Theo with her eyes fixed straight on him.
"Yes. That's right. I can't do anything. But I will not help someone like you. Never."
"What did you say?"
"To a bastard like you, I won't even leave behind a crime for you to pin on Karsein. I'll testify — plainly and truthfully — that you're the one who tried to deceive me and use me!"
She would never be deceived again.
"Look at you, getting all defiant. So you're siding with that bastard after all."
The veins bulged thick along Theo's neck.
"Ha. Fine. If that's how you want to play it, I have no choice. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."
"...!"
"You're reasonably pretty, so you'll fetch a fine price as a slave. Sell you off while I flee to another country, and money will come pouring in. Perfect, really."
"...!"
"You brought this on yourself. Spend the rest of your life as a beggar on foreign soil."
Theo picked up the gag again.
"No! Let go! Let GO of me!"
"Hold still, you fucking — if the merchandise gets damaged, its value drops!"
Flora thrashed and squirmed, struggling with everything she had.
SLAP!
"KYAAH!"
"If I'd known it would come to this, I would've seduced one of your sisters instead of a stupid, useless brat like you. Tch!"
His rough hand seized her jaw once more, forcing the gag into her mouth.
Blaming her own helplessness, blaming it again and again, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
The moment that single tear touched the floor—
a shaft of light burst into the darkened space.
CLANG—!
Along with a heavy ring of steel.
Flora's kidnapping. Theo Ramstair, who had somehow succeeded in breaking out of prison.
Together, those facts pointed to only one conclusion for me.
Take him down.
There was no other inference to be made.
In Episode VI, Karsein would remove both of his enemies from the ducal house completely. Until that was resolved, the next chapter would never advance.
So simply finding Flora could not be the end of it. What the Status Window wanted from me, by skipping ahead to this Hidden Episode, wasn't mere reconnaissance.
Elimination. The disposal of every obstacle standing in Karsein's path.
It was telling me to show results — not just through internal growth, but external growth as well. The moment that dawned on me, I already knew exactly where to go.
This situation was, for all intents and purposes, Chapter 2's content arriving early.
The appearance of the serial killer in the early part of Chapter 2. And the culprit, shockingly, was none other than Theo Ramstair, escaped from prison. In the worst of the branching scenarios, Flora was taken hostage, and there was a scene where you had to go rescue that hostage entirely alone.
The reason was never explained, so I didn't know it either. All that remained in the game was a note that Theo Ramstair had escaped the ducal prison with someone's help and systematically wiped out every witness.
If I frame it as 'his escape was somehow foreseen all along'...
There was one thing I, too, had overlooked — so I could call this situation foreseen. The day Claire visited, one man had been quietly transferred to the 2nd Knight Order. If Theo had summoned that man and escaped, he could likely have gotten out of the prison the same way he got in. There would have been hiding places to exploit in the gap between the ducal estate and the Training Grounds, too.
Besides, the imperial family didn't transport the prisoners directly — they spent a day in the ducal jail before being dragged off to the Tulea Mine. That one-day grace period would have been Theo's opening. The warden was one of Emma's people, too, so arranging it would have been easy.
But even granting that I'd caught on and finished the cleanup in time —
would this game ever have allowed me such a comfortable development?
No. Not a chance.
Since Theo was still alive, the system would have twisted the episode's progression somehow to push it forward anyway. Given how consistently the system had maintained that stance...
Theo Ramstair's prison break had been an unavoidable fate.
Thankfully, I hadn't forgotten this — and I had come alone. If I'd brought Harnie, the man might have sensed the threat, killed the hostage, and fled. Just like when we hit the bad ending in Chapter 2.
...So this is the place.
A pitch-black cabin. I had arrived at the spot where he must have been conducting his covert dealings all along.
My body, wound tighter than tight, was screaming at me that I could not loosen even a single thread of tension. The stench of blood hanging over this place had every hair on my body standing on end.
Can I actually win?
Once I stepped inside, I, too, would be spilling blood in there. His sword would be aimed at my throat.
So if I wanted to live, I had no choice but to win with every ounce of strength I possessed.
Against Theo Ramstair.
But could I really manage it?
I asked myself the question honestly. The answer came quickly.
And so I would have to mobilize everything — dirty tricks and all.
BANG!
"What the hell — who the—!"
CLANG!
He reacted by drawing his sword. Even ambushed, he'd drawn steel to meet me — I had expected as much. Karsein's body was hardly frail enough to be disabled in a single strike.
CLANG! CLANG!
SHLK!
"Ghk!!!"
Even so, I exploited his panic and carved open one of his shoulders. Blood sprayed.
I can't stop.
While he was still reeling from the ambush, I had to press him relentlessly.
Against Bruce Ivan — a man who looked down on his opponents and let his guard down completely — I could have closed that gap in an instant and brought him down. But even that fool lagged visibly behind Theo Ramstair.
Even our stats were mismatched.
With stats this far inferior, no matter how hard I tried to break Theo Ramstair, victory was simply impossible. And it was the same even setting aside the cold, numerical differences of the game's system.
Even granting that he wasn't fighting at his best — could Karsein's tottering body actually beat him?
Not a chance.
That was exactly why I'd struck in one decisive rush instead of letting it drag into a war of attrition.
Slash!
I cut into his left thigh. He must not have been in perfect condition to begin with, because the moment his thigh was opened, he began to give ground.
Finish this. Now.
I had to end it by rendering him unable to even lift his sword.
But—
Slash!
"...!"
"Nothing but dumb luck. That's all it was. Face it — even with a sword in your hand, you're still just you."
My shoulder had been cut open as well. He gripped his sword once more. Inside the pitch-black cabin, bloodlust poured off him without restraint.
"You — you thought — you could actually — beat ME?!"
CLANG! CLANG!
An unrelenting barrage of attacks came at me.
I was losing ground. Decidedly losing, from raw strength alone. The gap in muscle power and the crushing force of his grip on the sword was beyond any comparison.
Despite my ambush, his stamina hadn't waned. If anything, it was my HP — bleeding out through the bleeding status ailment — that was draining away.
He was a step faster. When I moved one step, he was already moving two. Even in a contest of pure speed, the difference told — even though he should have been the more exhausted of us.
With no time to steady my ragged breathing, I was forced to taste not only the crushing weight of his relentless blade but the refined technique of a hardened, trained body. Whenever our swords locked and the contest became one of strength, his blade bore down with such pressure that I was driven back before I could hold for long. And the moment I barely parried one blow, the next slash was already flying at me.
Before I knew it, the one pressing the attack — me — was being shoved deeper into the cabin, gasping for breath.
And yet.
"Pathetic little pest. You know how many people are suffering because of you, huh? So hurry up and die already, just die—"
CLANG! Slash!
"Ghk—?!"
And that was how I knew.
I can win this.
"Analysis complete. Just a bastard with nothing but an inferiority complex stuffed inside his skull."
As Kim Minhyuk — not Karsein — there was no way in hell I would lose to this man.
His sword carried nothing but brute force.
For all his physical superiority, his swordsmanship was wretched.
"You're DEAD! I'm going to kill you as slowly and painfully as I can manage. You will NOT get a clean death!!"
CLANG!
"Y-you...!"
SHLK!
And so I could bat him aside with ease.
With far less strength. With far slower speed.
Because the only thing that sword held — was pure, seething resentment.