WOSE Chapter 21

A single weapon hung on the ash-gray brick wall, unaccompanied by any other decoration.

It was a poleaxe—sharp spikes at one end, a blade at the other, both mounted on a shaft intricately carved with snake-like creatures.

For something abandoned in such a remote location, the weapon bore no dust. Clean. Except for the strange pattern near the blade's edge.

Iyu rubbed her fingertip against the dark reddish circles scattered across the metal. The pattern she'd thought decorative crumbled away like powder, erasing under her touch.

She brushed the dried residue clinging between her fingerprints and recalled an equally dried memory.

It had been a strange night. She'd gone to bed later than usual yet woken impossibly early.

A time when even the servants slept deeply. Her hand had slipped—she'd knocked over her water glass. The bedding soaked through, her clothes drenched. She'd wrapped a blanket over her wet clothing and set out to find the laundry room.

That night, the corridor had been frighteningly dark. She'd walked its long, silent length with shortened steps. Then lost her way. And stumbled upon this weapon by accident. Or more precisely, upon the 'vivid red traces' at its tip.

Horrified, she'd rushed back to her room and stayed awake until dawn broke. At breakfast, she'd immediately told Kelgrida what she'd seen. The answer had been:

'Oh... really? Must be ink.'

The smell had been too metallic for ink, she'd tried to explain. But Kelgrida had dismissed her opinion casually.

'It's nothing. Probably chemicals from the workshop. Metal rusts easily, so we maintain it regularly.'

'...I see? It was too dark. I must have seen wrong. Sorry for making a fuss.'

Perhaps the child at the village entrance had made too strong an impression—the one who'd cried not 'missing' but 'abducted.' She'd believed Kelgrida's words, thinking that.

But—

'What if I hadn't seen wrong?'

Truth was, even after accepting that explanation, Iyu hadn't been able to shake the unsettled feeling. It had grown worse with every conversation she'd had with the victims. Some of the missing weren't even blacksmiths by trade. And Kelgrida's firm dismissals of every question had added fuel to her suspicion.

Still—she was an outsider. She didn't understand things well. Besides, Kelgrida wouldn't do anything harmful to her own people.

For those reasons, she'd locked away every thought.

But then she'd heard the story about the 'missing person' at the inn. When the small doubt had swelled uncontrollably and begun taking shape. Iyu had recalled past fragments and decided she needed to confirm this with her own eyes again.

And now one thing was certain. This trace wasn't ink or chemicals. This was clearly—

'Blood.'

And not particularly old, either.

Why would blood be on this poleaxe? Why had Kelgrida lied about this trace? And why, the moment she'd thought the disappearances might not be 'accidents,' had this place come to mind?

"What are you doing here?"

The cold question came at that very moment. She turned, startled, at the familiar voice.

Behind her, Kelgrida stood motionless as a shadow, her face expressionless.

"Coming all the way to such a remote place—you must have gotten lost."

"...The manor is larger than I thought."

Iyu answered while subtly curling her fingertips—they might still bear dark red traces.

She observed the other woman like a small animal before a predator. The skin beneath Kelgrida's eyes had darkened further overnight. Her lips were parched white. And her chest rose and fell irregularly—she must have searched for Iyu quite urgently.

"There's nothing to see here, what were you looking at—ah."

A cold gaze swept past Iyu to the weapon on the wall. For a moment, Kelgrida's breathing thinned. The breath that had been slowly filling her ribcage expelled more roughly.

"...It's just one of many ordinary pieces. What, is there something strange about it?"

The voice was flat, making the brief flicker of disturbance seem like a lie.

Right. No change at all.

Realizing that Kelgrida had never shown such an expressionless face before—whether feigned or genuine—sweat trickled down Iyu's spine.

The corridor was silent as death. No presence nearby. Kelgrida's main weapon hung within arm's reach.

To say she wasn't afraid would be a lie. But Iyu trusted in her usefulness as the savior.

She swallowed dry saliva and asked with forced calm.

"I thought it was decorative, but it looks used."

Kelgrida glanced at the still-vivid bloodstain and answered casually.

"Ah, that. The servants use it to butcher animals. Sometimes we catch ones with tough hides—regular axes can't handle them."

'Too expensive-looking for that purpose...'

The design seemed more suited for someone of leadership rank to use for hunting.

More importantly, if servants used it, shouldn't it be stored in a warehouse rather than displayed like this? And this was a different excuse from her previous life. What little trust remained evaporated completely.

"Can anyone working in this manor freely use any piece displayed in the house?"

"Weapons have value when they're used."

Perhaps sensing the skeptical nuance, Kelgrida roughly swept back her red hair.

'What exactly is she hiding?'

It seemed like too much of a leap based on just a lie, but perhaps it related to the 'disappearances,' Iyu thought.

Between the two probing women, a silence like thin ice settled.

Had seconds passed that felt like minutes? Beyond Kelgrida, another presence broke the stillness.

"You were here."

The Hundredth White Branch extended his long legs and approached Iyu.

Not an unexpected figure. Odynne had been the only sword-wielder in the drawing room who'd seemed uninterested in weapons. But she'd thought he'd also be uninterested in her—that he'd overlook her slipping away. He appeared more conscientious than expected.

"It's dangerous for you to wander alone."

His sunken golden eyes moved slowly across Iyu's rigid face, her curled fingertips, the poleaxe, and finally to Kelgrida.

"Everyone is waiting."

His appearance shattered the subtle tension between the two women. Kelgrida turned around with her usual pleasant smile.

"Then shall we return to the drawing room?"

The questions hadn't cleared—they'd only grown more uncomfortable. But Iyu had confirmed everything she'd wanted to confirm, so she quietly followed behind Kelgrida.

After staring at the swaying red hair like a horse's tail for some time, Iyu turned her eyes to the man walking alongside her.

His still remarkably beautiful face revealed not a single emotion.

Had his arrival been mere coincidence? Had he noticed the blood on the poleaxe? And—she wanted to confirm what Kelgrida was hiding, but would he cooperate with her intentions?

Aside from Tamia, Odynne was the only one among the group worth trusting. At least he wouldn't force sacrifice for this world's sake or turn a blind eye to injustice.

But that meant she could trust him—not that he trusted her.

'Maybe I should just search for evidence alone.'

While she was lost in thought, the three had already arrived before the drawing room.

Kelgrida threw the door wide open and apologized to those inside with an exaggerated voice.

"Have you been waiting long? Sorry for calling you so early and then being late."

"There were so many fine pieces, I lost track of time."

"If you see a weapon you like, tell my son. I'll gift it to you."

"Really?"

The knights showed excitement like children receiving presents.

Leaving the small commotion behind, Iyu sat on the drawing room sofa. Across from her sat Kalix, diagonally sat Kelgrida, and on either side were Odynne and Tamia.

Because of this arrangement, when she lifted her head, her eyes met Kalix's directly. He too must have noticed her empty seat—he seemed about to mouth a question.

But just then, servants poured freshly heated tea, and Kelgrida began speaking.

"The reason I've troubled you by bringing the savior to the manor is to discuss the upcoming schedule. You remember the purpose of this pilgrimage, yes?"

Iyu nodded. She remembered both the real reason for the pilgrimage and the surface excuse they'd given.

'To deliver hope to those whose bodies and minds had been afflicted by suffering from the darkness.'

Kelgrida toyed with her teacup, taking her time before getting to the point.