The tie whistled through the air once more, trag a wide and menag arc, but Carmen moved with the agility of a panther, dodging it without any apparent effort.

  Her eyes, cold aless, left no room for misuanding: she was ready for the finishing blow!

  “So, what’s the matter? Not so tough anymore, huh?!” Krk shouted, his voice loaded with iisfa as his face twisted into a mask of pure madness. “Stop running and face me!”

  Not far from the heart of the csh, Mirac still y semi-reed against the trunk of a tree, his body battered by wounds and exhaustion. Every fiber of his being screamed in pain, every breath was a battle.

  A, despite his blurred vision and heavy limbs, his eyes remained fixed on Carmen and Krk, like a helpless spectator to that savage fight.

  His heart pounded furiously in his chest as he watched Krk gain ground.

  ‘Damn it!’ thought the young Prince, gritting his teeth. ‘I have to do something!’

  With agonizing effort, he tried to push himself up. Every movement was a decration of war against the pain ing him. His arms trembled uhe weight of his own body, his muscles stiffened by exhaustion and wounds. The world around him seemed to sway, shrouded in an oppressive fog that threateo overwhelm him.

  ‘Damn it!’ Mirac cursed inwardly, feeling helplessness grip him like a vice. What was the point of training so hard all this time if I ’t evehose I care about?!’

  Frustration and despair swirled in aional vortex as his mind rebelled against every physical limitation.

  ‘I have to get up… I have to help her!’

  The thought echoed in his mind like a roar.

  Mirac ched his fists again, his nails digging into his palms until they left bloody marks.

  His body trembled violently as he gathered every fragment of energy left.

  ‘I won’t just sit here while she risks her life to protect me! If I have to die trying to help her, then so be it!’

  Blood began to stream from his eyes, a thin and uling trail that further blurred his vision. It was a sign of the toll his body aying for this inhuman effort.

  But he didn’t care.

  ‘Whatever happens, I’ll give it my all!’

  With a muffled roar that reverberated in his gut, Miratio push his young body beyond its limits.

  ‘I must defeat that bastard! I must help Carmen… I have to do it! I… I absolutely must-!’

  “YOUNG PRINCE!”

  Carmen’s voice tore through the air like thunder, abruptly interrupting Mirac’s tormehoughts.

  The kid looked up, startled. Despite the pain gripping every muscle, his heart seemed to stop for an instant.

  Carmen, still locked in a fierce battle with Krk, moved with the agility of a dancer, retreating with a series of elegant leaps. Her stance was firm, her sword in hand gleaming menagly, yet her movements possessed an almost otherworldly grace.

  “Listen, young Prince,” Carmen said in a firm, authoritative tone, aking her eyes off her oppo.

  She parried Krk’s strikes with surgical precision, her dang bde trag lines of light in the air.

  “I imagine you’re trying to get up to help me… and I thank you for your ce… However…!”

  With o long leap backward, Carmen found herself once again at Mirac’s side, turning slightly towards him.

  Her eyes, whitil that moment had shoh cold determination, softened imperceptibly when they met Mirac’s.

  “Don’t uimate me!” she tinued, her voice resolute. “As I said before, I will handle him personally. Your task now is to rest and recover. Do not push your body beyond its limits, or I’ll have to punish you ter for disobeying me. Uood?”

  Mirac stared at her, speechless. Carmen’s fident, protective tone, so ued, struck him like lightning.

  “C-Carmen…” he stammered, feeling the tensio from his body like snow in the sun.

  His shoulders gave way, and he slowly leaned back against the tree trunk. His eyes barely closed, and before he could realize it, Mirac lost sciousness and fainted.

  “It’s over!” Krk roared, charging at them like a furious bull.

  His tie whistled through the air, snapping like a deadly whip.

  His objective was clear: t down Carmen and the young Prih a single, devastating strike.

  But Carmen turned sharply, her movements as lightning-fast as those of a predator.

  “Yes, it’s over…”

  Her voice, firm and unyielding, rang out like a sentence.

  With lethal precision, Carmen delivered a sharp strike with her sword. The bde hit the tie with perfect timing and force.

  The fabric, worn down silently throughout the battle, snapped in several pces, exploding into shreds. The fragments of the on scattered into the air like leaves carried by the wind.

  Krk froze, paralyzed. His gaze locked, incredulous, on the remains of his on.

  “What?! H-How is this possible?!” he shouted, his voice trembling with shock.

  In that silent fra of a sed, a thought crept into his mind, a revetion that struck him like a punch to the gut:

  ‘This woman… She wasn’t just retreating to avoid my blows… NO! From the very beginning, she’s been striking the same exact spot on my tie, weakening it little by little until it gave way pletely!’

  Carmen stared at him with an unshakable gaze, her features etched sharply uhe colors of twilight.

  “So, you’ve figured it out, have you?” she said with icy calm, before vanishing.

  Krk barely had time to hear the faint whistle in the air before Carmen reappeared in front of him, just inches away.

  As before, the palm of her left hand pressed against his abdomen, the pressure as intense as it was inescapable.

  “However, it’s far too te now…”

  With an explosive blow, Carmen hurled him backward.

  The force of the impact was inhuman: Krk flew like a rag doll, crashing through the trees. Trunks splintered under his passage, crag with sinister sounds, and branches burst into the air like shards of gss.

  His flight seemed to st ay before his body smmed violently onto the gravel path of the garden.

  He rolled through the white roses, an immacute carpet now stained red. The delicate petals, torn and soaked with his blood, floated in the air like a tragic rain.

  Krk y still for a few moments, disoriented, struggling to catch his breath.

  Every breath ainful ordeal, every fiber of his body screaming in agony. He spat a mouthful of blood, further staining the roses around him, as he tried to rise with slow, uain movements.

  ‘D-Damn it…!’

  His legs trembled uhe weight of his body, yet he mao stand. Staggering, his muscles burning like fire, he raised his gaze towards the forest from which Carmen could emerge at any moment.

  “Damn bitch!” he hissed, his face twisted into a mask of hatred and pain.

  Clutg what remained of his on—a strip of fabric barely half a meter long—his eyes burned with a crazed light.

  His mouth curled into a chilling grin, revealing blood-staieeth.

  “I’ll cut out your tongue, rip off your arms and legs… and torture you in the worst ways you could imagine!” he screamed, his voice distorted by rage.

  Then, with a theatrical gesture, he spread his arms wide, motioning toward the roses around him, their petals glinting uhe dying light.

  “And finally, I’ll use every single drop of your blood to paint all these roses red!”

  For a moment, the garden seemed ed by his madness.

  The fake professor didn’t spare a gnce for the body of the old gardener he had killed earlier, left abandoned on the white gravel path not far from the killer.

  No: Krk had no time for the dead!

  His gaze was fixed straight ahead, his feverish, sharp eyes sing the darkness of the forest.

  At that moment, he had to ighe pain ravaging his body: the only thing that mattered now was killing his oppo!

  Then, the waiting ended.

  From the shadowed forest, something moved with terrifying speed.

  A gleaming sword shot out of the darkness, flying straight towards him with precise, lethal i.

  Krk reacted on instinct. Summoning the st reserves of strength in his battered body, he moved with surprising agility.

  Drawing what remained of his on-tie, Krk struck the flying sword with precision, intercepting it before it could hit him and defleg its trajectory.

  The bde hissed through the air, then veered off to nd just to his left, embedding itself in the ground.

  A triumphant smile spread across Krk’s twisted face.

  “Huh, foolish!” he excimed, panting but still full e. “What did you think you’d aplish by throwing your swor-?!”

  His words echoed in the silence of the garden, but they were quickly smothered by a suddeion.

  A shiver.

  Cold as the touch of death, it crawled up his spihe chill wasn’t just physical—it seemed to pierce him from the inside, seeping into his nerves and paralyzing him.

  Krk stiffehe smile disappearing from his lips as a dark realization began to settle into his mind.

  Slowly, almost against his will, he lowered his gaze. His breath grew irregur, his chest rising and falling with basps.

  It was then that he saw it.

  The bde of a sword was emerging from his chest, a deadly, gleaming point making its way in with surgical precision, sinking deeper and deeper.

  Blood began to stain the bck fabric of his shirt, a vivid red spreading slowly like poison c through his body.

  “W-What-?!” Krk tried to speak, but blood filled his mouth, choking his words.

  A coughing fit seized him, expelling a crimsohat slowly dripped from his and staihe grouh him.

  Krk staggered, trying to turn, his movements stiff and shaken by the agony tearing through his muscles. His face, a mask of suffering and rage, torted further as he realized what he already knew.

  Behind him, Carmen stood watg. Her gaze was unshaken, the chill in her eyes seeming to pierce him more than the bde embedded in his body. With firm hands on the sword’s hilt, her stance was still aairaying an icy calm that was terrifying in its simplicity.

  ‘She stabbed me in the back? H-How did she-? No… Wait… The one she threw earlier… That was the sed sword!’ The realization hit Krk like a lightning strike.

  As Krk had suspected, Carmen had acted with merciless calcution, sidering every detail.

  Immediately after hurling him away with force, the red-haired servant had wasted no time. She had rushed to retrieve the sed sword, the ohat had fallen during the initial csh between Mirad the fake professor. With impressive agility, she had grabbed it and swiftly moved to front Krk.

  Before emerging from the woods, Carmen had thrown the sed sword towards Krk, using the on as a perfectly calibrated distra.

  While he was focused on defleg the flying strike, Carmen had stealthily moved to his left side, exploiting his blind spot.

  Indeed, Carmen knew very well that Krk’s left eye—severely wou the start of the fight by the small stone she had thrown with preade him vulnerable: his field of vision was halved, and his left side was pletely exposed!

  Moving with the lightness of a shadow, Carmen had taken a wide arc, calg every step to avoid betraying her position. Meanwhile, Krk had no idea that the threat roag from behind.

  Finally, Carmen had reached the perfect spot.

  With a decisive ahal move, she had driven the sword straight into her oppo’s back. The bde had pierced with force, breaking any ce of resistance.

  And in that moment of realization, as the bde tore through his back, Krk could do nothing but release his grip on his on, which slowly fell onto the rose petals: after all, Krk had lost.

  “D-Damn!”

  Krk coughed again. Blood sprayed from his lips, staining the roses at his feet, already soaked with the red of his blood.

  For a moment, the pain reflected on his face, a twisted grimace that, however, cealed something else: a hint of sadness…

  “W-Who are you?” he suddenly asked, his voice broken.

  Carmen didn’t flinch. Her hands remaieady on the hilt of the sword, her tone unged. “Why do you care to know?”

  “J-Just answer! W-Who are you?! H-How did you know about me… and t-the Last Storm?! W-Who gave you this information? A-A member o-of anization?!” Krk’s voice grew louder, filled with rage and desperation. “e on, answer, damn you!”

  Carmen tilted her head slightly, as if those accusations were irrelevant to her.

  “I… I’m just someone… who wants to protect the young Prihat’s all.”

  The words rang out like a verdict.

  Krk remained silent for several long moments, his face streaked with blood, his breath ragged.

  Then, without warning, he burst into a choked, broken, painful ugh. Every ugh was apanied by a coughing fit and another wave of blood, but he couldn’t stop.

  “Heh… f-funny!” he finally excimed, his voice hoarse and vulsed, but ced with a dark irony. “S-Saving the young P-Prince, huh? W-Well… that’s bullshit!”

  The mad smile returo his face as his eyes gleamed with a manic light.

  “If… you’re here…” he tinued, pausing to catch his breath, “it’s because… you already knew… I-I’d try to… kill him… today!” He coughed again, his body doubled over in the effort to speak, but he didn’t stop. “And you… you still decided to… go to… the capital… for your… damn ‘issions’… and show up… only at the st moment!”

  His voice, despite everything, grew louder, fueled by rage.

  “If… if you really wao save him… why… why didn’t you warn… anyone?!” he stammered, his words broken by the ck of air and the weight of the bde in his chest. “Why… didn’t you tell… the guards? If you had… the Prince… would have been protected! No… n-no, actually! You… you would have stopped me… from the very first day… I arrived! But no… y-you didn’t! So… stop… messing with me!” he shouted, or at least tried to, his voiow reduced to a hoarse roar. “Tell me… THE TRUTH! W-Who are you… really?!”

  His words faded into silence, broken only by the ragged sound of his dying breath.

  Carmen remaiill, her expression unged. Only her gaze, impassive, betrayed an awarehat seemed to weigh on Krk like a boulder.

  Finally, after a couple of long seds, she spoke:

  “Krk… whether you know the truth or not, it won’t ge the oute. You will die anyway. And with you, your family as well. After all, wasn’t that hotain Dilven had warned you?”

  “Y-You…!” stammered Krk, his face rigid, his gaze suddenly tense.

  Those st words from Carmen firmed to Krk that the servant was already aware of his meeting with Captain Dilven, and the message he had reyed on behalf of the Boss.

  But how did Carmen already know about it?

  It was impossible that she had spied on him the day he was at the capital, because Captain Dilven would have surely noticed.

  But then, how did she find out?

  What else did she know?

  Was that rhetorical question the servant had just asked perhaps a way to hint to Krk that she really knew everything?

  But why not say it clearly? Why just insi?

  And in the end, who was Carmen really?

  Feeling once again mocked, a tremor e coursed through him.

  “D-Damn… damn b-bitch!” Krk barked, spitting a clot of blood that stained his lips. “Y-You think you’ll get a-away with it? W-With whoever you’re w-w with… d-do you really think you s-stand a ce a-against the Captain or the Boss?”

  Carmen didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze was cold, devoid of aion.

  Theilted her head slightly, and her words slid out like an unappeable verdict:

  “Don’t worry. You’ll find out the answer when they e to greet you themselves.”

  Krk wao respond, to shout again, even to try to turn and strike her with his bare hands, but his strength was leaving him. Even keeping his eyes open had bee an unbearable weight.

  Carmen’s voice then dropped, a whisper as sharp as the edge of the sword still pierg Krk’s chest.

  “Goodbye, Professor Shirkenn…”

  With a fluid and precise movement, Carmen withdrew the bde from his body.

  Blood erupted from the wound, a crimson cascade staining the purity of the white roses.

  Krk staggered. His body, now devoid of strength, suddenly gave way. He colpsed forward among the flowers, the soft petals seeming to embrace him in a funeral hug.

  His eyes tried to focus on the sky above him, but all he could see was the dying light of twilight, distorted by the veil of death that was advang.

  After pulling the sword out, Carmen no longer looked at him. She circled his body with measured steps and walked away, leaving him there, among the flowers and the blood.

  Krk, lying on the ground, struggled to lift his gaze. His vision was now a mosaic of blurry images and flickering lights. But he still mao distinguish the figure of Carmen moving away, the silhouette of the red-haired woman disappearing into the woods.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lois… Petra… Please five me.’

  That thought, heavy with remorse, echoed not only in Krk’s mind, as he barely breathed, but also in Carmen’s as she silently headed toward Mirac...

  Moments ter, the gardeuro an eerie silence, broken only by the whisper of the wind through the petals.

  The roses, soaked in blood, swayed gently in the evening breeze.

  Suddenly, Krk’s breath stopped.

  And while the lies had trapped him for aire year, the silehat precedes death was the only truth he had left.