“The festival was lively. Everyone was happy… When the midnight bells chimed, the celebration reached its peak. The Viscount and the Magistrate… they struck the bell together. Everyone was cheering…”

  Lucien’s voice hitched. “And then… and then…”

  His breathing grew ragged. In his eyes, an indescribable terror bloomed. “Then… everything changed! It was as if… as if a devil had cursed us!

  The cheering stopped. Just… stopped. All the adults. Every. Single. One. Their eyes went blood-red. Their faces twisted, mouths agape, drooling… they… they started tearing into the people beside them! Every single one of them!

  My father… he was the first to lunge at me!”

  “We were frozen. We had no idea what was happening! The square… it became hell. Screams, shrieks, the sound of bones being crushed… blood was everywhere! Blood was everywhere…”

  “Big-mouth” Lucien couldn’t go on. He covered his face, his voice choked with pain. His shoulders trembled violently.

  Beside him, “Thumbs” Ham also lowered his head, gritting his teeth so hard his knuckles turned white. He, too, was clearly trying his best to suppress the grief.

  The air fell silent again. Pandora’s face grew increasingly grim.

  Just as she thought… just like at the manor, just like at the mill. The collective “switch” was flipped the moment the midnight bell rang. No warning, no exceptions.

  Except for… the children.

  Elsa stood at her side, her grip on her sword tightening. As she heard the words, a flicker of something unreadable passed through her eyes. Her voice gained a tremor she herself didn’t notice.

  “The Viscount… My Lady, he… did he also…”

  Lucien still had his face covered, trembling, and said nothing.

  It was Ham who raised his head, his voice low and filled with sorrow. “Lady Elsa, the Viscount… he… he was just like the others. After the bell rang, he… he became a monster. It was… it was Lord Arthur… it was Lord Arthur who granted the Viscount a final peace…”

  Elsa fell silent.

  She lifted her head, gazing in the direction of the town. For the first time, in the eyes of the handmaiden who had always upheld her beliefs, an emotion named “confusion” and “pain” appeared.

  The words were unfinished, but their meaning was terrifyingly clear.

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  Betty clapped a hand over her mouth. The suppressed sobs she could hold back, but the tears instantly gushed forth, unstoppable.

  The Viscount, her father… that dignified, old-fashioned man who had always protected this land… in the end, he had not been spared.

  Pandora closed her eyes.

  She’d guessed it long ago. In the face of that terrifying “filter,” things like noble status or a lord’s authority… were all a complete joke! Anyone who was meant to turn, would turn. The only exception was the children.

  “Continue.”

  Pandora opened her eyes, placing a hand on Elsa’s shoulder. Her emotions were locked down, back to a state of calm. “Tell me. What about Arthur? What’s his story?”

  At the mention of Arthur, a different expression finally appeared on Lucien’s face. It was the relief of a survivor, and… a complicated form of worship.

  “My Lady, in that moment, we truly thought it was the end. I saw my father lunge at me, and I just froze. I almost got bitten… It was Ham, he yanked me back with all his might, and the two of us managed to hide behind a stone statue.”

  As he spoke, his voice grew urgent. “Everyone was running, everyone was screaming. Monsters were everywhere. We thought… we thought we were dead for sure!”

  “Then, Arthur appeared!”

  Ham took over the story. His voice was still low, but it held a new, elevated tone. “He was right near us. He was the first to react! He didn’t freeze like us, and he didn’t run around aimlessly!”

  “He first shoved the dazed ‘Pebble’ out of the way, blocking his own father’s attack. Then, he charged out and saved ‘Little Hammer,’ who had been tripped…”

  “The three of them formed a small team and charged toward the weapon rack at the edge of the square. My God, why didn’t I think of that then? It was their actions that inspired us! They got the swords and armor from the adult knights, and then… and then they fought, they fought like real knights, charging through the chaos! They cut down the monsters and saved more children!”

  “He shouted at all the children who were still hiding, still screaming, telling us to follow him! He told us that only by uniting, by taking up arms, did we have a chance to survive!

  His voice… his voice seemed to have a kind of magic to it. It made us less afraid. He led us, one by one, saving everyone he could from the clutches of those monsters.”

  Ham’s gaze grew distant. “Aurora… Aurora was saved by him too. She was surrounded by monsters while trying to protect some of the villagers’ children. It was Lord Arthur who led a charge and rescued her!”

  At this point, Aurora’s expression was rather complex. What Ham said was true. Arthur had indeed saved her life… So, in a way, she had indeed “betrayed” Arthur. Aurora thought, a twinge of unease as she glanced at Pandora.

  But Pandora wasn’t looking at her. She was thinking about Arthur. Arthur… all she knew was that he was the son of a down-on-his-luck knight, usually quiet and withdrawn. For a youth like that to show such astonishing decisiveness, such leadership, in the very first moments of the disaster? And he had saved Aurora?

  “And after that?”

  Pandora’s voice was soft. “What did Arthur do next?”

  “After that, Lord Arthur… he led all of us who survived to the town hall. It was the sturdiest building, with a basement. We barricaded the doors and windows. Lord Arthur personally stood guard at the entrance with a few others…”

  Ham and Lucien exchanged a look. Lucien hesitated for a moment before saying in a low voice, “The next day, today, he gathered us together. He… he said that the old order had collapsed, that the Douglas family had… perished along with the Viscount.”

  The topic had finally reached the heaviest, most unspeakable part.

  He swallowed, his voice dropping even lower:

  “He said that the new era needed a new order, a new king.”

  “The Viscount is dead. Long live the King.”

  “He asked all of us… to swear fealty to him.”