The unease could wait.

  The path out of the manor was far smoother than Pandora had expected. Maybe the panic from the night before had magnified her fear, or maybe the power she’d given Elsa was just that overwhelming.

  The path to the gate was a slaughter.

  Elsa was a killing machine, a whirlwind of crimson steel. Shlick. Crack. Every swing of her sword brought a spray of gore. Her steps were steady, her rhythm a deadly percussion.

  From the kitchen to the main corridor, and from the corridor all the way to the front gate, wherever she passed, limbs and remains blossomed, paving a crimson carpet for Pandora.

  “My Lady, we have arrived.”

  Elsa stood before the manor’s heavy iron gate, undoing its lock. She stepped to the side, respectfully holding it open.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  Pandora took a deep breath, as if bracing herself, then pushed open the gate, spattered with blood and grime.

  Sunlight poured in, an instant, warm wave that dispelled the accumulated cold and stench of blood within the manor.

  Outside was the familiar tree-lined path leading to the town. A breeze blew past, carrying the scent of grass and earth. She took it all in, as if the horrific zombification of the night before had never happened.

  As long as she didn’t look back—didn’t look back through that gate, at the mess on the ground, the severed limbs, the staring, unblinking, ferocious eyes… As long as she didn’t look, the world still seemed to be the peaceful and serene medieval one from yesterday.

  “We… we finally got out alive.”

  Betty’s sigh of relief shattered Pandora’s wistful fantasy.

  She took a deep breath, suppressing the complex emotions welling up inside her. She looked toward the distance. “Let’s go. Our target is the town.”

  That was where her father was.

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  Elsa had silently returned to her side.

  “Betty, you know the way to the mill, right? Lead the way.”

  “Huh? The mill?” Betty's eyes widened. “My Lady, aren’t we going to town?”

  “The mill first.”

  Pandora’s tone left no room for argument.

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  She needed a buffer zone. An observation point. A baseline.

  To just barge into the unknown? That was a fool’s move.

  This time, Betty didn’t ask any more questions and started leading the way. She pushed her own questions aside. After all, she was just a little kitchen maid. She knew her place. Don’t ask what you shouldn’t ask.

  ………………

  After walking along the tree-lined path for a short while, the huge silhouette of a windmill gradually came into focus.

  But along with it came not the scent of wheat, but a thick, nauseating stench of blood, mixed with the smell of animal feces and rotting intestines.

  The stench hit them like a physical blow, an invisible hand clamping down on their throats.

  Pandora’s face turned sour. Elsa’s gaze grew sharp, her sword already raised without a sound. The color drained from Betty's face, and her legs began to tremble.

  The situation… was worse than she’d anticipated.

  The mill, the closest settlement to the manor. In her memory, it should have been bustling, filled with the rumble of millstones.

  Now, it was silent as a grave.

  Only the windmill blades creaked and groaned in the wind, playing a funeral dirge for this dead place.

  “Be careful.”

  Pandora whispered. Elsa understood, taking the lead. With her blood sword held before her, she was the first to step into the mill’s courtyard.

  The scene was a massacre.

  Beside the grindstone lay several mangled corpses. On the ground and inside the grindstone, the blood had long since congealed into dark red stains. The chicken coop was a mess of feathers and intestines. In the stable, a sturdy draft horse lay dead, its body covered in bite marks; its neck had been torn open by some unknown beast, its eyes bulging wide in a final, horrified stare.

  Interestingly, these animals, whether chicken or horse, showed no signs of having turned after death.

  “So this ‘zombification’ is a picky eater?” Pandora stood up from beside the horse’s corpse, wiping the filth from her hands. A humorless smile touched her lips. “It only targets humans? Or perhaps… only humans can be ‘activated’ by the ‘switch’?”

  Her heart felt heavy. Another piece of evidence pointing to human intervention. But the culprit was a ghost.

  “Perhaps I was wrong…” Pandora murmured to herself.

  At the same time, Elsa finished a quick sweep of the mill’s houses and storage sheds. She confirmed there were no living things. Even if you counted zombies as “living things,” the conclusion still held.

  After listening to Elsa’s report, Pandora was about to give the order to leave, when—

  Thump… thump…

  Thump… thump… thump…

  A faint, yet exceptionally clear, knocking sound came from beneath the floorboards!

  All three of them froze!

  Pandora snapped her head down, looking at the wooden planks beneath her feet. The sound was coming from down there!

  “There’s… something down there!” Betty whispered in terror.

  Pandora’s eyes narrowed, showing no trace of panic. She called out in a calm, clear voice, “Listen to me, whoever is down there! I am Pandora Douglas, daughter of Viscount Douglas! If there are any survivors, answer me!”

  A brief silence.

  Then—

  Click!

  In a corner of the shed, a floorboard, hidden under thick dry hay and torn burlap sacks, was suddenly shoved open from below!

  A dust-covered youth with sharp eyes was the first to clamber out!

  Then a second, and a third…

  Five of them. Boys and girls, maybe fifteen or sixteen. Covered in grime, clothes in tatters, but completely unharmed. They even had food and water down below, in better shape than Betty had been.

  The one in the lead was tall and thin, his face still holding onto a trace of youthful innocence, but his eyes were exceptionally sharp. Pandora had seen him at the town magistrate’s wedding. He was the miller’s eldest son, Ron.

  “Miss Douglas?!”

  Ron’s voice cracked with emotion when he saw Pandora’s face clearly. He practically scrambled out of the hole and fell to his knees before Pandora with a thud.

  “My Lady! Is that your father with the knights? Has he come to save us? The Viscount, where is he? Oh, thank the heavens! We've been cowering down here all night... Last night was a nightmare. My father... he and the rest of them, they all became monsters!”