Yet in that very instant, the tightly-shut eyes of the man on the floor snapped open—Homet jerked awake, dodging the blow by a hair’s breadth.

  For the first time in his pampered, indulgent life, this noble scion felt death brush coldly past his cheek. Terror seized him so violently that a foul-smelling liquid seeped uncontrollably from his lower body.

  “Pe… Perna?s! What are you trying to do?!” Homet’s voice cracked with terror, trembling through every syllable.

  The blonde young lady had indeed panicked when he suddenly woke— but when she saw fear twist the face that had haunted her nightmares for years, a strange flicker of satisfaction rose within her. It washed away a large part of her dread.

  “He’s not out? No matter—Miss Pérnas, try again. I believe you’ll land a hit.” Glenn’s calm encouragement drifted from the conjured magus-telephone.

  From the frailty in the man’s voice, Glenn already knew Homet no longer posed any real threat—and judging from that weakness, he doubted the noise would draw anyone from outside.

  His reassurance worked. Pérnas raised the flowerpot once more.

  “No! No, don’t—Pérnas, I love you! I adore you! You can’t do this to me! Please!” The pitiful cry of the man on the floor trembled with terror.

  And that pitifulness—almost—softened her. A moment of hesitation, a flicker of mercy.

  Just then, Glenn’s voice cut in, perfectly timed:

  “Do not pity him, my dear lady. Those are crocodile tears. You have no idea how many vile deeds men like him commit. Human life means nothing to them. When they see a comely peasant girl, they simply abduct her—use her—and then kill her. It’s their daily pastime. If you spare him now, you will condemn others to suffer. You wouldn’t do that… would you?”

  “No! He’s lying! Pérnas, don’t believe him! I’ve never done such things!” Homet shrieked desperately.

  “Never?” Glenn sneered faintly. “Then why is this lovely young lady here?”

  “I—!” Homet faltered, unable to produce even a flimsy rebuttal.

  “Nothing left to say?” Glenn’s tone sharpened. “Miss Pérnas, strike. I know it is cruel for a girl your age… but everyone faces a first time.”

  Her hands trembled. She still could not bring herself to deliver the blow.

  Glenn poured oil onto the fire—quiet, steady, precise:

  “Good girl. Kindness is a virtue, and I admire it. But think of the ones you care about—your mother, for instance. If he can spirit you away without a trace, he can do the same to her. Picture it: your dignified, noble mother bound and tormented by this filth, used to threaten you. That— that is what sparing him today may bring.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “Stop!” The young noblewoman cried out—

  —and without another second of hesitation, she brought the flowerpot crashing down.

  “No! Don’t believe—” Homet’s final plea cut short as the ceramic shattered across his face. Soil spilled everywhere, masking whatever remained of his features.

  Pérnas collapsed onto the floor, dazed, her mind momentarily blank.

  Suddenly, the body on the ground stirred—Homet coughed twice. He was still alive.

  “He isn’t dead…” she murmured, her voice oddly empty.

  Before Glenn could speak, she continued faintly, “I’ll… get another flowerpot.”

  “No. Stop.” Glenn caught the change in her tone.

  The girl had reached her psychological limit—her first kill had pushed her to the very edge. His voice softened, steady and guiding:

  “Pérnas… you’ve taken the step. You were brave. You defeated the monster who tormented you. He deserved it. You’ve done nothing wrong. You should not feel fear now— you should feel pride. From this moment on, no one will ever be able to hurt you again.”

  “No one… will ever hurt me again…” she repeated, then clearer: “Yes. No one.”

  Glenn blinked—surprised at how quickly she accepted it on her own. Good. That would make the next part easier.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Much better. What must I do next?” Her voice was calmer than ever—steady, composed, almost matured in a single moment.

  “My time speaking with you is running out. Listen carefully—remember every word. Leave the body. He won’t survive long. First, find a bag—or anything similar—that can carry food and some essentials for surviving outside. Do not use the front door. His men may be waiting there. Go through the rear courtyard and scale the wall. The estate must have a perimeter—there’s an easy method for climbing it…”

  Glenn’s instructions came rapid-fire, smooth and decisive. Leira, at his side, could only stare in stunned silence.

  From the moment Glenn began coaxing Pérnas into killing, she had felt as though she were watching something more terrifying than any demon— yet everything he did was to save that young noblewoman.

  No matter how she tried, she could no longer see him as merely a clever storyteller or a charming craftsman. The man before her clearly possessed far more power—and far more darkness—than she had ever imagined.

  Yet she remembered, too, how he had treated her from the start—warmly, kindly, never condescending. Perhaps he was simply too good an actor. Or perhaps—in her heart—she did not want to doubt him.

  For she liked Glenn— his wit, his gentleness, the fairytale worlds he spun with his hands.

  When the magus-telephone finally died and the connection cut off, Glenn turned and met Leira’s complicated gaze.

  He paused, then said quietly, “Just think of it as the cruelty of the adult world. I’m still the same person you know.”

  The girl startled, then waved her hands quickly. “No, no, Mr. Glenn, you misunderstand! I’m not afraid of you—I just… I just…”

  Unable to articulate her tangled feelings, she fell silent.

  Glenn smiled. “I understand. But right now, worry about the young lady. She isn’t safe yet.”

  The reminder snapped Leira’s thoughts back. “She isn’t safe? But she escaped!”

  Glenn shook his head. “She’ll escape the house—perhaps the entire estate. But what comes after… that’s another story.”

  Just as Glenn predicted, Pérnas had already climbed over the rear wall of Homet’s hidden residence and fled into the night— but she had no idea what awaited her beyond.

  When that strange, enchanted device vanished, panic surged through her again—despite her earlier composure.

  I will escape. I will survive. She whispered the words to herself, as though steadying her courage with each breath.