Chapter 561: Deep Darkness
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 561: Deep Darkness
"Help... help me..."
"Someone, please save me..."
"Ah! A monster! Don't come any closer!"
The night remained deep and heavy.
However, the panicked screams and the thick scent of blood had already shattered the quietude of this district.
Everywhere there were flickering fires, crowds fleeing in terror, flowing blood, and... monsters prowling in the darkness.
The creatures were hideous and terrifying, their eyes a bloodthirsty crimson. Countless innocent souls had already become fodder in their maws.
With nowhere left to run, the people instinctively fled toward the bridge, toward that peaceful, quiet sanctuary on the other side where the lights glowed with an alluring warmth.
"Please, I beg you, lower the bridge..."
"I don't want to die yet, I don't want to die..."
"The monsters are here! They're here! The bridge! Lower the bridge, quickly!"
As the crowd at the foot of the bridge grew larger, it naturally drew more of the Beast-transformed ones trailing behind. The helpless masses huddled there, offering humble, desperate prayers to the guards on the far side of the bridge.
However, the only response they received was a face pale with its own fear, yet remaining utterly indifferent.
"The bridge cannot be lowered!"
The man on horseback roared at his subordinates. "These are orders from above! We absolutely cannot allow those monsters—or those rioters—to enter the Upper District!"
"But..."
One guard glanced toward the far side of the bridge, hesitating as if to speak, but a sharp riding crop lashed across him, leaving a vivid red welt on his body.
"Do you intend to disobey orders?" the man bellowed. "Or do you want to become one of those low-lifes yourself?"
"I..."
The guard trembled, eventually lowering his head, not daring to utter another word.
And so, the bridge that symbolized hope remained hoisted high, never descending. Amidst terror and curses, the people gradually sank into despair.
The hungry Beast-transformed ones approached with low growls. The cries and wails grew more piteous, while some were so terrified they lacked even the strength to scream, collapsing limply to the ground, their hearts offering constant prayers to the Goddess.
"O Goddess above, please... save me, save my child..."
The prayer received no response from the Goddess, but the woman cradling her infant suddenly felt a touch of coldness on her cheek.
She opened her eyes and saw vast flurries of snow falling from the sky.
Snow? In this season?
She reached out blankly, catching a few flakes.
Whether it was an illusion or not, as the snow melted in her palm, it felt... incredibly warm.
"Roar!"
The mindless Beast-transformed ones would not halt their steps for a beautiful snowfall. Finally unable to suppress their craving for flesh and blood, they lunged toward the crowd with guttural roars.
It seemed a bloody feast was about to repeat itself, a vision of hell about to unfold...
But then...
"Fall."
A cold, clear voice instantly drowned out the countless cries of terror.
The snow fell in thick flurries. To the commoners, it brought a reassuring warmth, but to the Beast-transformed ones, it brought... the extreme cold of terror.
Cr-crack.
In an instant.
The world froze.
Pale frost covered the entire street in a mere heartbeat.
The crowd was still screaming in terror, but the dozens of hideous Beast-transformed ones had frozen mid-stride, a hair's breadth away from them.
It was as if time itself had stopped.
After a long silence, the people—realizing that neither death nor pain had claimed them—opened their eyes. What they saw were row upon row of lifelike ice sculptures.
The infant in the swaddling clothes waved its hands excitedly, flashing an innocent smile at this novel "magic trick."
"This... this is..."
The shaken survivors looked around in confusion until they finally spotted a silver-white figure on the other side of the bridge.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Celicia stepped down from the carriage, her stunningly beautiful face as grim as the winter frost as she glared at the man on horseback. "Why was the bridge not lowered? Why did you stand by and watch as those people were slaughtered by the monsters' fangs?"
"This..."
The man no longer held his previous air of superiority. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he spoke with a fawning expression, "Princess, these are orders from above. The goal is to protect the stability and safety of the Upper District. It was a necessary measure; I am merely following orders."
"Whose orders?"
"Well..."
"I asked you, whose orders?" Celicia’s tone was ice-cold.
"It was... Count Charles, who is responsible for maintaining the security of the Upper District."
"Where is he?"
"He..."
The man tried to stall with a few more words, but under Celicia’s gaze—which felt as though it might freeze him solid—he lost even the courage to lie. He could only stammer out an answer: "According to his usual routine, at this hour, he should be with one of his mistresses..."
"In other words..." Celicia interrupted him. "While such a massive crisis is occurring in Belland, Count Charles is still out trysting with his mistress?"
"Please calm your anger, Your Highness. Lord Charles likely didn't realize the situation would be this severe. Furthermore, from the perspective of the Upper District, he made the best—"
"Three minutes."
"Eh? What?"
"I said, three minutes."
Celicia stared at the man, speaking each word with cold, emotionless precision. "In three minutes, if that 'dutiful' Count hasn't appeared here personally with medicine, food, and men to maintain order... then I will throw him, and you, into the river to feed the fish."
The man’s expression shifted, and he gave a forced laugh. "Princess, that's not a very funny joke..."
"Do you think... I look like I'm joking?"
Celicia suddenly took a step forward. A biting wind and snow swirled around her, instantly making the man’s teeth chatter from the cold.
"You now have two minutes and fifty seconds."
"I... I'll go right now!"
The man dared not hesitate any longer. He scrambled onto his horse and vanished down the broad streets of the Upper District.
Celicia turned her head, her cold gaze landing on the guards who were still dazed. "What are you all standing around for? Lower the bridge!"
"Yes... Yes, Ma'am!" the gatekeepers shouted in response, quickly engaging the mechanisms to lower the bridge deck.
Accompanied by the roar of grinding machinery, the bridge connecting the Upper and Lower Districts finally closed and became passable once more.
The survivors stumbled across, rushing from the other side as if walking through a dream, their faces still etched with the remnants of terror and despair.
It wasn't until they saw the silver-haired girl walking toward them that they truly realized they had survived.
But before they could even thank the world-renowned Princess, a profound sorrow enveloped them. They couldn't help but remember that in this chaos, many others had not survived.
"Your Highness..."
"Princess Celicia..."
"Why? Why do we have to go through this... Did we do something wrong?"
"Waaa... my children turned into monsters... my wife died in a monster's mouth to protect me... why? Why did it turn out like this?"
Celicia walked toward them.
She looked at the pain, numbness, and sorrow on their faces. She watched as they knelt before her, their blood-stained hands clutching at the hem of her skirt, asking questions she herself could not answer. Her slender fists gradually clenched, her nails digging into her palms.
Her exquisite face remained unchanged, like primordial ice that would never melt.
However, hot blood dripped from between her fingers one by one, turning into blooming crystal flowers in the air.
"I am sorry."
She could only whisper those words, for any other speech at this moment would be utterly hollow.
Passing them, Celicia looked at the ice sculptures. On those hideous faces, one could still see traces of their humanity.
However, most of what made them human had been replaced by grotesque beastification. Even their closest kin would likely fail to recognize them in their current state.
"Beast blood," Celicia murmured softly.
She turned her gaze toward the devastated streets.
Tonight, an unknown number of people had been harmed. While it might be a small fraction compared to the massive population of the Lower District, the absolute number was certainly not small.
"The Inner Council."
Continuing forward, carriages passed her by. Because they were traveling so fast, the occupants didn't seem to notice Celicia’s identity.
Celicia caught a glimpse of a prominent family crest on one of the carriages.
"Old Nobility."
Soon, she stood on a high vantage point, looking out over the profoundly deep night and darkness.
Under her orders and the direction of others who had finally come to their senses, the lost order was finally being re-established. The Guard Corps, which had been missing all night, was once again patrolling the streets. But she watched for a long time and never saw the one person who should have appeared most.
If things were as she suspected, then as the victor, wouldn't this be the most opportune time for him to show himself?
Or was it that, after sweeping away the obstacles, he no longer deigned to maintain such a facade?
"Albert... 'Brother'."
"Your Highness."
Beside her, a worried Wei'er brought over a letter. "New information has arrived."
Celicia took the envelope, scanned it quickly, and then handed it back to Wei'er.
"As I expected."
"Expected..."
Wei'er, who was still confused about many things, opened the letter and read it quickly. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Prince Andrew... is dead? Killed in the monster riot? Prince Albert is also heavily injured, but was fortunately saved by Marquis Angus? How could this happen?"
Wei'er felt like her brain couldn't process it all. But if this had happened, it meant...
"It's over, isn't it?" she asked. "The struggle for the throne... it's over, right, President?"
"Over... is it?"
Celicia looked down at her palm.
Under her deliberate suppression, the wounds in her palm had not yet healed. Bright red blood was flowing out.
The blood was vivid, looking no different from the blood of an ordinary person.
But as a strand of silver hair drifted before her eyes, that blood seemed slightly special.
Because many had forgotten—or perhaps many simply didn't care—that the blood in her veins was the same as that of the deceased Second Prince Andrew and the First Prince Albert, who had become the center of the Empire overnight.
It was the purest Imperial Royal Bloodline.
"No."
Celicia suddenly snapped her hand shut.
She looked up, staring directly into the deepest darkness before the dawn. Scenes she had just witnessed flashed through her mind. Beneath the calm surface of the frozen lake, something was surging with the fury of molten lava.
She whispered softly:
"It isn't over yet."