Masquerade Ball
Even after that somewhat heavy topic, Lizzy continued her conversation with Ferzen. With each exchange of words, she sank deeper into his boyish voice.
In truth, Ferzen possessed no special gift for captivating words. It was merely his innate charisma—seeping out like a habit—that compelled his listener to pay close attention.
But in a certain sense, Ferzen knew Lizzy all too well. Even in her guise as a little lamb, he effortlessly bound her in his web.
The counseling offered from perpetrator to victim was ironic, lightly grasping and shaking her heart.
And then... as the two-hour banquet drew to a close...
Lizzy broached the subject with Ferzen indirectly. No, she sought his opinion.
"If..."
What must be done, even if it seems impossible to achieve—how should one go about it?
Ferzen smiled at her words.
"You already know the answer, don't you?"
"Don't tease me."
"I'm not teasing. Quite literally. If it were truly impossible, you wouldn't have asked me."
"..."
"Isn't it because you know it's not merely impossible, but utterly unachievable, that you're seeking counsel?"
"That's...! No, I mean..."
"If it only seemed impossible—merely a slim chance—then you'd already know the means with the lowest probability."
Lizzy shrugged at Ferzen's words, though she hated to admit it. Hated to deny it.
"Yes..."
"..."
"Then, when something utterly unachievable must be realized... how would you act?"
"I'd give up."
"..."
"If effort alone could shatter a rock by hurling eggs at it... there'd be no greater absurdity in the world."
Effort never betrays the self.
But the dreams and ideals one cherishes? They betray you all too often.
If effort always rewarded those dreams and ideals...
Humans would never have become social creatures.
"The premise is that I can't give up."
"No such premise exists in this world."
"..."
"If you truly couldn't give up, that egg you still clutch would have long since smashed against the rock."
"..."
"The mere fact that you're still holding it means you're hesitating. In that sense... this premise of 'can't give up' is a contradiction."
The deeper she fell into this conversation, the more Lizzy felt suffocated. Like sinking into a swamp. Into its fathomless depths. Her whole body dragged down.
And it was unpleasant, too.
He was like a mirror forcing her to confront reality.
And through it, Lizzy realized just how much she'd been turning away from her cruel reality.
Brother...
Had Roer always faced this reality head-on?
"Thank you."
"..."
"The more I resist your counsel... the more I realize how childishly I've been acting."
"..."
"They say bitter medicine is good for you—for times like this."
11:55 PM.
The banquet would end at midnight soon enough.
Seeing her resolve harden like soil after rain, Ferzen extended his hand. He clasped her slender hand with his small one.
"You must be someone with nothing left to lose."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Only those with nothing but themselves to lose would challenge the unachievable."
Was it concern or not? Ambiguous words.
Lizzy gave a wry smile in response.
"No. That's not it. It's just... steeling oneself to give up nothing, even if it means losing everything."
11:58 PM.
Three black mages from the Imperial Magic Corps entered the banquet hall.
The monster they had borrowed through a transaction was the Shy One.
11:59 PM.
"Curious."
Ferzen spoke in his true voice.
"Pardon?"
It differed slightly from the voice she'd been hearing until moments ago. Yet in that subtle difference, Lizzy felt both unfamiliarity and a chilling familiarity...
His final words made her body stiffen.
"Among those resolved to lose everything, not one ever regrets it once they've truly lost all."
Her trembling pupils contracted rapidly.
And as he raised his free hand—the one not holding hers—to remove the little lamb's mask...
Fwosh.
Midnight.
The world went dark.
No sound.
No light.
Nothing at all.
Not even the beating of her own heart.
This was the ability of the Shy One, a monster inhabiting the first layer of the Netherworld. It formed a specific domain, blocking all light and sound within it.
And in this pitch-black darkness, some began altering their disguises entirely. To shake off any tails who might follow and uncover their identities upon leaving the hall.
A courtesy from the Imperial family.
And since only touch remained unaffected...
Lizzy felt the small hand holding hers slowly growing larger.
"Ah..."
Moments later, when the veil that had shrouded everything lifted...
She saw it.
A neat black suit. A crisp white shirt. A simple, patternless necktie at its center.
And the chilling wolf mask gazing down at her.
Thump!
The heartbeat she'd been unable to hear exploded in her ears.
"Ah... aaah..."
Lizzy knew instinctively. No, her body told her.
Who this wolf was, beneath the lamb's mask.
"Lizzy."
He called her name.
A voice she could never forget.
"No, no... no..."
She expended mana. But no corpse to control was nearby.
Creak.
Forced upright by Ferzen's hand, Lizzy buried her face in his chest, her body trembling violently.
The maid at the door noticed something amiss and moved to intervene, but...
A glance back met the red glow of his eyes through the mask. She recoiled in terror.
Even the nobles stepping out to the terrace for fresh air now that the banquet had ended...
They couldn't withstand Ferzen's oppressive, violent, threatening gaze and aura. They quietly shut the door.
"Even as the little lamb is about to be devoured..."
The other sheep don't even bleat.
In the silence of those sheep...
Ferzen personally removed Lizzy's mask, though she couldn't even scream.
Gremory Eldin Ishtar Elmark.
Even cloaked in the appearance of one who had reached the pinnacle of Aura Knight, her pitiful expression was stained with tears.
No matter how thick a shell she wore on the outside, Ferzen could shatter it effortlessly and drag her true self into the light.
"Ah, uht... hngh..."
Then Ferzen licked the tears trailing down her cheek, a sinister sneer curling his lips as he whispered.
"If your resolve is truly that firm, Lizzy."
"Ah... ugh..."
"First... dig four graves."
One for me.
One for you.
And the rest for your brothers.
"Without even that much preparation, revenge is laughable, isn't it?"
Still wearing that mocking sneer, Ferzen placed her hands on the terrace railing.
His fingers trailed down the exposed white skin of her backless dress, pressing his lips softly to her waist.
Smack.
The kiss at her waist signified bondage.
"Hngh... kuhk...!"
At the chilling, repulsive sensation from her tormentor and enemy, Lizzy bit her lip hard.
Blood trickled from her mangled lip, but that pain wasn't enough to escape.
Her body still cowered before Ferzen, steeped in fear and terror.
Ferzen pulled his lips away, gripping her waist with his left hand.
With his right, he pressed gently on her lower abdomen.
"Shh..."
In a husky murmur, as if savoring something, he intoned softly.
"Ah, ah..."
Fear.
Terror.
Tension.
Lizzy's body, marred by every negative emotion, responded to the hot breath in her ear and that voice.
Squeeze.
Even as she desperately clenched her thighs.
Drip.
In the end, it stained the hem of her beautiful dress.
Drip. Drip...
Something trickling down her thighs formed a small puddle beneath her shoes.
"...Good girl."
Watching this, Ferzen uttered a single phrase before quietly stepping back.
To dispel darkness, one must light a fire.
But could damp wood ignite itself into flame?
Glancing at the maid frozen in fear, Ferzen reentered the banquet hall.
Even with the wolf mask, those with keen eyes recognized him as Ferzen immediately.
People began flocking around him.
The silent sheep now cheered.
Yes, the wolf.
Amid the sheep's cheers.
Left the little lamb's sobs behind.
And departed gracefully.
"Ah... ah... kuh... hngh...!"
And beside the still-weeping Lizzy.
Only the little lamb's mask Ferzen had worn.
Lay on the floor, mocking her.