The journey back to the manor began shortly before sunset.
Arthur had originally intended to return to his massive, empty estate alone to puzzle over ledgers and secret passages. Instead, he found himself walking down the quiet, tree-lined road leading out of the city, accompanied by a golden-haired woman who refused to walk beside him.
She remained exactly three steps behind him, keeping her head lowered, stepping carefully in his shadow.
Eventually, Arthur stopped and turned around. "Why are you walking back there?"
She looked up, clearly confused by the question. "Because I’m supposed to."
Arthur sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Walk beside me. Please."
She hesitated, her eyes darting to the road ahead, before slowly taking a few steps forward until she was level with him. They continued down the dirt path as the sky began to bleed into shades of deep orange and violet.
For a long while, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the crunch of their boots against the gravel and the distant calls of evening birds.
Arthur eventually broke the silence, keeping his voice casual. "You have a name, right?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Can I know it?"
Another long pause. She seemed to be weighing the cost of giving it to him. Then, she answered quietly.
"Elena."
Arthur repeated it once, testing the sound of it. "Elena. That’s a beautiful name."
She looked at him, genuine surprise flashing across her features. "Thank you."
It was the longest conversation they had managed so far. Arthur smiled, and as they kept walking, the silence between them didn’t feel quite as suffocating.
By the time the sun disappeared entirely behind the dense forest canopy, the air grew incredibly cold. Arthur decided to stop beside a small, rushing stream to rest before finishing the journey to the estate.
He gathered a small pile of dry branches and arranged them in a circle of stones. Elena sat on a fallen log nearby, watching him work with quiet curiosity.
"You don’t have servants?" she asked.
Arthur looked up from the wood. "I probably do."
"You don’t know?"
"Not yet," he admitted.
She stared at him, completely baffled.
Arthur laughed. "It’s a long story."
He finished arranging the wood, held his hand out over the branches, and pushed a tiny, focused fraction of his emerald mana toward his fingertips. A spark of brilliant green energy snapped into the wood, and a warm, crackling fire instantly bloomed to life.
Elena’s eyes widened, reflecting the dancing flames. "Magic."
Arthur nodded, sitting back against a large rock. "I have mana."
"Most humans do," she noted softly, watching the fire.
"But mine is... unusual," Arthur said. Get faster updates on g.com.
She studied his face carefully in the flickering light. The suspicion in her eyes was slowly being replaced by an intense, analytical focus. "You’re very different from the man I heard stories about."
Arthur’s smile faded instantly. "You knew the previous owner? You knew Valen?"
"I didn’t know him," Elena corrected quietly. "But I heard stories in the holding cells."
"What kind of stories?"
She looked away, staring deeply into the fire. "That he was incredibly cruel."
Arthur remained silent, letting the crackle of the fire fill the space.
"That he bought people," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper.
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
"That he sent them away," she finished.
Arthur leaned forward. "Sent them where?"
She shook her head, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I don’t know. Nobody knew. They just... never came back."
Arthur stared into the flames, his thoughts immediately returning to the horrifying dungeon beneath his beautiful manor. The rusting cages. The coded documents hidden in his study. The strange crest carved into the heavy iron door. The guildmaster’s mention of missing shipments on the northern routes.
It was all connected. He had initially assumed the previous Arthur’s criminal activity was just a dark side hustle hidden beneath a legitimate trading empire. But as the pieces clicked together, a much worse reality took shape.
The legitimate business wasn’t a cover. It was the delivery system. The trade routes, the missing caravans—they were all being used to move people.
Arthur clenched his fist, the emerald mana flaring involuntarily beneath his skin. "Then I’ll find out where they went."
Elena looked at him, the orange firelight illuminating the exhaustion in her face. "Why?"
"Because I inherited his mess," Arthur said, his voice hard as iron. He looked directly into her eyes. "And because I don’t want anyone else ending up in those cages beneath my house."
She slowly lowered her gaze, resting her chin on her knees. For several long minutes, the only sound was the rushing water of the stream and the popping of the wood.
Then, she spoke, so quietly he almost missed it.
"Thank you."
Arthur looked at her. It was barely a whisper, but it carried the heavy, unmistakable weight of absolute sincerity.
He smiled, a genuine, warm expression that finally reached his eyes. "You’re welcome, Elena."
They reached the grand iron gates of the manor late in the night. The massive estate was bathed in pale moonlight, its tall windows dark and imposing.
Elena stopped dead in her tracks at the entrance. Her expression shifted rapidly from exhaustion to utter disbelief. She looked at the sprawling, palatial estate, and then turned to look at Arthur.
"This... this is where you live?"
"Apparently," Arthur said, pushing the heavy iron gate open.
She stared at him. "You own all of this?"
Arthur shrugged, adjusting his coat. "Apparently."
"You really don’t remember anything, do you?"
She looked at him with an expression that clearly said she thought he was completely insane.
Arthur unlocked the massive oak front door and pushed it open, revealing the dark, luxurious foyer. "Come inside."
Elena hesitated, looking nervously at the threshold. Taking a slow, unsteady breath, she stepped into the manor.
The absolute second her foot crossed the threshold, the dark wire around her neck flared with blinding light.
She gasped, a choked, agonizing sound, and collapsed to her knees.
Arthur spun around instantly. "What happened?"
She gripped her throat, her fingers clawing at the metal. "It burns!"
Arthur rushed toward her, dropping to his knees. The dark metallic crest beneath her skin was glowing violently. But it wasn’t just a collar anymore. A complex, jagged geometric pattern was spreading outward from the center of the crest, creeping up her jawline and down her collarbone like glowing, infected veins.
Arthur reached his hand out, intending to pull her fingers away to inspect the damage.
The moment his fingers drew close to her skin, his own mana reacted aggressively. Brilliant emerald light surrounded his hand, rushing to his fingertips to meet the threat.
The crest on her neck responded instantly.
It flashed.
*Violet.*
Arthur froze.
It was the exact same color. The exact same cold, jagged sensation. It was the same violent pulse he had felt waking up beneath his own heart by the underground lake.
His expression shifted from concern to profound shock.
Elena looked up at him, tears of pain pricking the corners of her eyes. "What’s wrong?"
Arthur didn’t answer her. He couldn’t. He could feel the resonance vibrating through the air between them. The crest around her neck wasn’t merely a slave mark used to enforce obedience.
It was connected. It was anchored to something incredibly dark, something massive and ancient that instantly recognized the dormant mana resting inside his own chest.
Arthur slowly withdrew his hand. The moment his emerald mana retreated, the violent violet glow faded from her neck, sinking back beneath her skin until only the dark wire remained.
She collapsed forward, breathing heavily, her hands shaking.
Arthur remained on his knees, staring at the dark metal resting against her throat. "This isn’t normal."
"What do you mean?" she gasped, holding her neck.
"I don’t know yet," Arthur said softly, standing up and looking down the dark, cavernous hallway of the manor. The shadows suddenly seemed much deeper than before. "But I’m going to find out."
Deep inside his chest, beneath the warm safety of Xetra’s gift, the violet presence stirred again.
*Thump.*
Arthur’s eyes narrowed into the dark.
The curse was completely awake.
And somehow, the broken woman kneeling in his foyer was directly connected to it.