Synchronization with the curse.

The place that had seemed nothing more than an ordinary forest moments ago had, in an instant, transformed into something terrifying. Upon closer inspection, one notices there is no wind, and no trace of the animals that once inhabited the woods.

"Wouldn’t you notice something strange about the forest if you looked at it differently?"

As if reading my mind, Lovell spoke in a flat, expressionless tone.

"Sensitive creatures have likely fled. Still, keep in mind some may have already been turned into monsters. The spirits will be most affected—keep them in the rear."

"Y-yeah, I got it."

A voice trembled from Gadiel—clearly shaken, but not afraid. There was tension in his face, yes, but no fear. Rather, a kind of resolve had settled in, and he was staring straight into the woods.

Lovell was no small amount startled by this. But then he suddenly realized—his age back during the Monster Tempest, when he’d experienced it firsthand, was nearly the same as Gadiel’s now.

(Back then, I’d given up on everything…)

He let out a self-deprecating laugh, flicking his right hand upward as if shooing something away. Light burst from Lovell’s palm, coalescing into a single point before being sucked upward into the sky. From above, right over the stunned faces of the others, light suddenly began pouring down.

“W-what’s…?”

“I’ve erected a barrier. But don’t get complacent.”

He gestured for the spirits to retreat behind him, then turned to Lovell with a nod. “Shall we?”

“Direction…?”

“No need for maps. I’ll guide you.”

Lovell stepped forward, leading the way into the woods. From behind, Gadiel hurried after, calling out.

“…You know where we’re going?”

"Yeah... I can hear it. The screaming."

"What...?"

The others strain their ears, shaking their heads in unison.

"It's a cursed voice. The girl was touched by it, and now she's trapped in that sound. You might not hear it now, Prince, but you've heard it before, haven't you?"

"...Yeah."

Gadiel grimaces, biting his lip. It was hearing that voice that first made him curious about spirits—and over time, it drew him closer to Elen, like a moth to flame.

"Spirits become audible when cursed things draw near. If you listen too long, you’ll be swallowed whole."

Lovell strides ahead, feet moving fast, and the rest scramble to follow.

But Sauvel, still anxious, blurts out, "Wait—aren’t we supposed to be watching our backs? Just charging in like this?"

Lovell snorts through his nose. "Fine. They’re already too weak to stand."

It finally clicked—Lovell’s casual, indifferent tone was off. Wrong. Too wrong.

That expression on Lovell’s face… it was the same one I’d seen before, back when we were still in the manor.

“Ah… elder brother…?”

Sauvel broke out in a cold sweat, staring at Lovell’s blank, emotionless face—something familiar, something deeply unsettling.

“Now I understand what the Dual Goddesses meant… how revolting.”

Just as Sauvel was about to speak, something shifted in the grass ahead.

Everyone instinctively gripped their sword hilts, crouching low.

“…a human?”

A surprised gasp escaped Lovell—astonished, even—until the grass parted in two, revealing a battered man collapsing face-first into the foliage, tripped by a stray blade of grass.

“H-h-help… please…”

They all stared, wide-eyed, at the man desperately flailing his arms, clawing at Lovell and the others.

Black mist clung to the man’s body. Upon closer inspection, countless tiny black hands sprouted from the mist, gripping his clothes.

The moment they saw it, a chill shot through them all—immediate, icy. Everyone stepped back at once, drawing their swords, as if to cut the man loose. Then, in that instant, they realized the hopelessness of it all. Tears welled up in the man’s eyes and spilled over, one after another.

“Help me!! No, no, no, I don’t want to die!!”

Guided by his screams, the black mist crept over him faster and faster. The sight—like something devouring a person whole—left everyone frozen, speechless.

“You’re not dying. You’ll become part of us. Of *us*, the royal blood. Isn’t that an honor?”

A woman’s giggling voice came from behind the fallen man.

Gadiel, recognizing the voice, stared blankly in its direction.

The moment a woman’s face poked out from the mist, a wave of unbearable screams tore from the onlookers’ throats, echoing through the air.

“Amiel!?!”

“Ah… what a relief… you’ve finally come… at last…”

Ignoring Gadiel’s shout, Amiel smiled sweetly at Lovell. “Father,” she said.

***

I’ve had tinnitus for years.

I escaped with Helgner, rescued Mother, who’d been isolated, and fled to Helgner’s lands—only to find it was just another kind of flight.

“Where is my Lovell-sama?!”

She said it, her voice bright with joy at seeing Mother unchanged. Soon, I’ll see you again, Mother.

Amiel lured Mother out, saying Lovell was coming to pick her up, then stabbed the grandfather who’d followed them, hiding the knife all along.

The knife was small, so Grandfather was still breathing—yet it was the knight sent by Helgner, assigned as guard, who finally put an end to it.

Amiel watched calmly as her grandfather fell. Even now, recalling the dazed look on his face as he stared at her, she can't help but laugh.

The knight praised Amiel for handling it so calmly. Amiel, who took the praise as perfectly normal, said.

"Of course. Father was the one meant to be king. All because of this one, Father was sent to the Spirit World. She’s the reason Mother and I were torn apart—she should just die and clear the air."

The knight’s face, hidden behind the mask, was unreadable—but she’d have nodded, surely, if she could’ve.

Around this time, the ringing in my ears grew worse and worse.

Mother, restless from the unfamiliar life on the road, had built up a constant irritation—she’d always be stuffing something into her mouth, escaping into food.

Spending all that time cooped up in the carriage, her body had grown wider than ever, even beyond what I remembered.

She looked different, yes—but now we were together again. That’s what I told myself. The life we were meant to have would return. I kept repeating it, trying to soothe her.

The ringing never stopped. Then, one day, I realized it wasn’t just noise anymore—it was a voice.

I began to sync with it. A wave of disgust and annoyance swirled in my chest. Sometimes, I’d feel like I wasn’t even myself anymore. Like I was dissolving.

The Helgner folk kept their distance, fussing over us without so much as a glance. We exchanged only the bare minimum of words. I’d thought that was fine. But then I learned to vent my uncontainable irritation on them—and that only made it worse.

How could they not understand why we were being driven to our knees?

It was the vassals’ duty to obey us, the royal family. Of course they should support us. Yet that Vanklyft Family condemned our mother—the princess.

Our uncle, the king, tore our innocent mother and daughter apart, declaring it for the good of the realm, and forced us into royal education. Can you even imagine how repulsive that was?

Even when we realized the royal bloodline was cursed, and that our half-spirit father could’ve easily resolved it by uniting with our mother—why couldn’t they see that?

Every time I heard mocking laughter from the people around me—directed at my mother, and at me—I’d scream inside my head: one day, I’ll kill them all. Absolutely.

The voices in my ears slowly merged with my own inner cries.

“Finally… finally, you’ve come to fetch me… it’s been so long…”

“…What are you talking about?”

Lovell frowned, narrowing his eyes at Amiel, who beamed with delight at having caught Mother’s gaze.

“If there’s a war, Father will come to fetch me. After all, Father’s a hero.”

In the black mist, Amiel smiled, genuinely happy, as he said it.