The Girl's Past
After a desperate, life-or-death struggle, the girl finally reached the door to Serena's room.
Leaving behind the corpses of the monsters that had blocked the burning corridor, she stood before the firmly shut door, gasping for breath.
Her condition was wretched.
Her entire body was torn and raked by claws and fangs; smoke still rose from the burns seared into her flesh by the flames. The blood-soaked, tattered remnants of her clothes were so ruined that their original color was barely recognizable.
Yet in stark contrast to her catastrophic physical state, her face was strangely flushed. Not with pain or exhaustion—something far more unsettling burned in her eyes: a peculiar excitement, a feverish heat.
"No. That can't be..."
She murmured the words under her breath in a trembling voice, as if trying to soothe herself—or desperately deny reality.
Out loud she kept repeating that it would be fine, that her sister would be unharmed. But deep down she already knew. While cutting her way through the monsters, she—more sensitive to the aura of Contamination than anyone—had felt the increasingly ominous power seeping from Serena's room. And she had already begun to grasp the terrible meaning of that power.
With a shaking hand she gripped the doorknob. After one deep breath, she opened the door.
Creeeak—
The moment it swung open, a thick stench and the reek of blood slammed into her nose.
The first thing that met her eyes was the body of the head maid, Mari, collapsed right in front of the doorway.
Mari...
Multiple deep wounds scored her body; she had already stopped breathing.
The girl held her breath for a moment.
One of the very few people in this cold ducal house who, along with her sister, had treated her like an actual human being. Always full of scolding, yet every word had carried genuine concern. Just as Annie once had, Mari had stayed by her master's side until the very end—and died for it.
Forcing down the grief that surged up, the girl shifted her gaze deeper into the room.
And there she saw the scene she had feared, the one she had never wanted to face.
In the center of the room stood Serena Bennet.
But she was no longer the person the girl had known. Her entire body was covered in black blotches so dense it was hard to believe she was still alive, and her eyes glowed with empty light. Around her, a sinister energy swirled, tearing open a warped Gate that summoned monsters.
Serena had become the core of the Gate itself.
Beyond the rippling surface of the Gate, another monster writhed, trying to crawl through—ugly claws and fangs bared, waiting for the chance to pour into the ducal estate.
"…!"
The girl realized there was no time left for despair. Without hesitation she hurled a dagger at the head of the monster just emerging from the threshold.
Crunch!
With a sharp, wet sound the creature's skull burst apart. Then, gathering every scrap of mana in her body, she condensed a colossal force into her fist and drove it into the unstable Gate.
CRACK—! BOOOOM!!
An enormous roar tore through the room as the Gate shattered into fragments. A shockwave that felt as if space itself were being ripped apart swept through the chamber. At the same instant the Gate, stripped of its core, collapsed—and Serena's body crumpled lifelessly to the floor.
The black blotches still covered her, but her empty eyes had closed once more.
The girl rushed to her side at once and checked her condition. Faint, but she was still breathing. Her pulse still beat, however weakly.
…She's still alive!
A hopeful whisper rose in the girl's heart—only to waver at once before cold reality.
Anyone fully infected by Contamination could never return to normal, no matter what was done. That was the absolute rule of Contamination as established in the game she knew, Tales of Etheraisha.
Serena, already steeped so deeply in Contamination… the chances that she could ever again become the kind, strong sister the girl had known were vanishingly small.
But—
The girl shook her head.
She no longer blindly trusted the game's settings. She had learned, through bitter experience, that the arrogance of knowing a game's lore and flow could lead to irreversible catastrophe. After that painful lesson she had stopped treating game settings as absolute truth.
The Evil God's power.
She thought of the other force sleeping inside her—the ability to seal the Evil God's power while also drawing on a portion of it. Dangerous, difficult to control… yet perhaps—
If I can just use this… somehow, Sister…
Her eyes blazed with renewed resolve. Even if the chance was faint, she could never give up. She would not lose her only family, the sister she loved, like this.
Just then she felt a familiar presence behind her—ragged, panting breaths. Someone had come running desperately into this horrific scene.
Without turning around, the girl spoke in a voice gone cold and flat. Beneath the low tone seethed suppressed rage.
"…You're too late."
"Se… Serena…!"
A voice thick with despair rose behind her.
It was Duke Isaac Bennet.
Confronted by the nightmare inside the room and the sight of his daughter collapsed in Contamination, he seemed shattered, able only to force out his daughter's name.
The girl slowly turned her head and looked at him. Contempt and cold mockery filled her eyes.
"Is this… another one of your brilliant experiments?"
She asked with a sneer.
"Just like last time…"
Her voice was ice.
"No…! I… I only…"
The Duke floundered, trying to offer some excuse, but the words died in his throat. Before his daughter's ruined form, every justification rang hollow and scattered into nothing.
"Aaaagh…!"
At last he sank to the floor, clutching his face, and let out a despairing howl like a wounded beast.
"Serena…! My daughter…!"
Watching that wretched display, the girl snapped at him in frustration.
"Pull yourself together! Sister is still alive!"
The Duke stopped crying and stared at her blankly.
"No one saw her like this in all this chaos. Hide her somewhere safe for now!"
She assessed the situation in an instant and issued orders.
"And then… figure out a way to save her! Are you just going to give up like this?!"
Under her sharp rebuke the Duke nodded dazedly. The faint hope that his daughter still lived, and the desperate need to keep her alive, seemed to rekindle something in his empty eyes.
He staggered to his feet, steadied himself, and carefully lifted Serena onto his back. Then, following the girl's guidance, he began moving toward the mansion's secret passage.
The recollection ended. The girl slowly opened her eyes.
The cold reality of the present still stretched before her.
Her sister Serena, covered in black blotches, unconscious and bound in thick iron chains. Her appearance had not changed in the slightest from the memory of moments ago.
The girl rose quietly and turned toward the figure standing behind her.
"Shall we begin?"
Her voice was calm, yet a subtle anticipation threaded through it.
Duke Isaac Bennet stood there. But he looked nothing like the dignified duke of ordinary days. His face was twisted with complicated anguish; both hands trembled violently, and he could not even bring himself to look properly at his daughter or the girl.
He gave no answer to her question. He only hung his head in torment.
"…What are you doing?"
The girl asked irritably.
There was no time.
The Duke averted his eyes from hers, murmuring as if apologetic.
"This… this is too…"
"Ha."
The girl let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"What exactly are you trying to pull now?"
She took a step closer and fixed him with a frigid stare.
"Don't tell me… you're feeling guilty all of a sudden?"
"…!"
The Duke's shoulders flinched.
The girl could not hold back her scorn.
"You called me a tool! Who was it that screamed at me to fulfill my purpose like a proper tool?!"
Her voice rose, sharp as a blade.
"Don't start playing the good man now. It's disgusting!"
Under her cutting rebuke the Duke seemed momentarily speechless. Then, as if steeling himself, he tightened his grip on the sword in his hand. Agony still filled his eyes, but the desperate conviction that this was the only way to save his daughter burned stronger.
"…Fine."
Confirming his resolve, the girl spoke calmly.
"Remember. You can't kill me in one blow. My power grows stronger through pain. Make it… as painful as possible."
She paused to catch her breath.
"I've calculated it. Exactly five times. That leaves just enough margin for me to endure the backlash and keep myself from dying completely. Exactly five times. Understood?"
Her matter-of-fact explanation was horrifyingly cruel, yet the Duke had no other choice. He nodded in silence.
"Ah, right. And one more thing…"
As if something had just occurred to her, she added. From her clothes she produced a small glass vial containing a clear liquid.
"I asked Lady Dorothy ahead of time and obtained a memory-erasing potion."
"…Erase memories?"
The Duke asked, puzzled.
"Yes."
Looking down at the vial, the girl continued evenly.
"Unlike you, Mari was real family to Sister. If she ever learned she killed Mari with her own hands… she would never forgive herself for the rest of her life. She would suffer forever."
She looked back at the Duke.
"And… you remember our plan, don't you? The culprit for everything that happened today has to be me."
Her eyes held unwavering resolve.
At her words the Duke could only stand in heavy silence. In the end he nodded weakly.
"…Then begin."
As if every preparation were complete, the girl spoke with quiet finality.
Perhaps it was some last scrap of conscience.
Isaac Bennet squeezed his eyes shut and raised his sword with trembling hands. Then he swung it at the girl.
Shhk—
Because of that, he never saw it.
The eerie smile of strange satisfaction that rose on the girl's face the instant his blade cut into her.