Dry reeds greeted the wind, bending like waves. The desolate path, as barren as the parched land, stretched endlessly towards the grey sky, and an old castle sat on the horizon at the road's end. Like a child imitating a monster with shadow puppets, the haphazardly jutting battlements and the base filled with old moss clearly showed the castle's age.
A man, sporting a beard and a fedora, was riding a skinny donkey down the road. A heavy cart rattled along, pulled by the donkey. Every time the cart tilted, pained voices echoed from inside.
'Help me.'
'Get me out.'
'Is anyone there?'
The pleas for help, muffled by gags and impossible to pronounce properly, vanished along with the harsh wind, like a flare tossed into the water. The castle, like an abyssal anglerfish, gaped its main gate wide and devoured the cart and the man.
In the window, a woman looked down at the cart with a noble air. She stood facing away from the sun, ensuring the sunlight wouldn't reach her, and observed the outside from the corner of her eye. The window, made of thick, light-blocking material, had a dim hue, but her red eyes pierced right through the murky light.
From the cart that entered the courtyard, men bound in chains emerged in a line. Early twenties. Brown hair and blue eyes. Former slaves. Though they all differed in origin and appearance, these men shared that commonality. With a pounding heart, the woman gazed intently through the window, waiting only for the 'guests' to come up.
"No."
As she flicked her hand lightly, the slave rolled across the floor like straw blown by the wind. Before the slave could say anything, the attendant grabbed his neck and said to the woman,
"What should I do with this one?"
"Leave him. Grind the rest up."
"Understood."
Behind the bearded man were numerous slaves, beaten by the woman in the same manner. Despite being lightly struck, they couldn't stay upright. Some had dislocated jaws, while others had crushed noses with blood streaming down.
The attendant, with a practiced expression, unfolded sacks and packed the slaves in as if they were trash.
'Help me.'
'Get me out.'
'Is anyone there?'
Though the gags were removed, none could speak coherently. They didn't understand the misfortune that had befallen them, destined to die before they could comprehend their situation. The heavy sacks were dragged away. The woman brushed back her silver hair and began scanning the newspaper.
She needed to read the newspaper because international affairs had changed significantly lately. According to the attendant, staying quiet like this might soon become impossible.
"Ah, aah...! Ah..."
The man lying on the floor struggled, shedding tears. Just as a fish dropped on the dock flops towards the sea to survive, he moved his body towards the window where light seeped in. Did he believe that reaching for the window would allow him to escape this place? Foolishly yet persistently, the man continued to crawl forward.
Meanwhile, the woman walked on, scanning the newspaper. Her slender ankles, clad in black shoes, made a clicking sound against the marble floor with every step. The newspaper articles were filled with content surprising even to her.
There was a report about a being called Imp Drak-Sai annihilating a hero's army in the North and making people tremble in fear. The woman found it curious that the name Drak-Sai was similar to the Imp K-sai she kept. And she wondered how Imps, which she thought were all tiny, could possibly defeat a hero's army.
Could there have been a high-ranking demon among the Imps?
"Ah, aaah...!"
The man braced himself against the wall with his hand. His skinny fingers scratched at the wall.
The woman turned the page. This time, it was news from the city of Ithaca in the East. It reported that Ithaca's authorities and the Charlotte Law Firm had collaborated to execute corrupt nobles. The article speculated that the hero's family's influence in the East would likely decrease significantly, as quite a few of the hero's acquaintances and relatives were among the executed corrupt nobles.
"Ugh! Aaaah...!"
The man tried to get up somehow. Despite scratching the wall repeatedly, he couldn't lift himself up. Watching his body constantly slip, the man whimpered. And the woman shifted her gaze to a newspaper published in the East.
The Eastern newspaper also covered the execution incident in Ithaca prominently. Since she had already read it, the woman skimmed through that section and moved on. It covered the same content as the capital's newspaper, and the writing skill was even more crude.
The woman reached out. Her hand emitted a silver aura, and the collapsed slave floated gently upwards.
"Aah, aaaaah! Uwaaah!"
The man screamed and thrashed about, but there was no way to escape. Just as a stone thrown into a huge hole falls down, it was natural for him to be pulled when she reached out. Enveloped in the silver mist, the man suddenly found his hair grabbed by the woman.
"Uwaaaaah! Aaaah!"
The man tried to resist, swinging his hands, but both were already bound by magic. His hands were bent backward and tightly bound, and his head was rigidly fixed as if splinted. Holding the slave's hair, the woman opened her mouth.
"Uwaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaaaah!"
The man screamed, filled with horror. He knew what she was about to do. With bored eyes, the woman read the newspaper article while opening her mouth wide towards the crown of the man's head. Her sharp teeth glinted in the light, and the man's scream was abruptly cut off.
"Aak...! Ugh...! Ggureuk...! Keuk......!"
Then came the sound of chewing bones. With an indifferent expression, she crunched on the man's head, then spat out the hair. Bone fragments and drops of blood littered the floor. Taking another bite of the man's head, she turned the newspaper again.
[Today's Farm]
And the woman's eyes fixed on one newspaper article. It was an unremarkable article. It was a newspaper corner introducing a noteworthy farm, the kind likely found in regions like the East, abundant with ranches and farms. This article discussed a grape farm region recently acquired by the Flancia family.
The woman threw aside the now unconscious man and picked up the newspaper with both hands. Leaning over, she read the article carefully.
[Flancia Isabel. She is quite a dramatic figure. Born into the Flancia family, she lived without relying on their prestige at all. She divorced the man she married by family order and married 'Evan', a man of slave origin whom she loved. She took control of all the local lords who had previously ignored her, integrated the grape farm region, and built up her fortune.]
"Of slave origin......"
The woman's face lit up. She caressed the photo with a bright smile. In the photo, Isabel and Evan were smiling affectionately at each other. Their hands clasped tightly together and the gentle atmosphere hinted at the couple's affection.
The woman pushed her hair back and hugged the photo tightly.
"Evan. His name now. Evan."
She kicked the corpse aside and ran to the vanity table. Although her reflection wasn't visible in the mirror, she sat before the vanity, busy adorning herself. Another attendant, wandering around the room, asked while scooping the corpses she had made into a sack,
"Taffy-nim. Is there some good news?"
"I found him."
Taffy said with a bright smile. Her silver hair shone, and her eyes, which must have been a different color once, emitted a brilliant red glow. The attendant asked,
"You found him? What do you mean? Are you perhaps referring to that brown-haired boy?"
"I'm sure of it. Yes. I'll know him when I see him."
Saying so, Taffy continued trying to apply makeup. But since her reflection wasn't visible in the mirror, her attempts were no different from drawing graffiti on her face. Unable to watch Taffy's clumsy makeup application any longer, the attendant put the sack aside and approached her.
"Here, Taffy-nim, I'll do it for you. Where is the man?"
Taffy held up the newspaper. The attendant looked at the photo of Isabel and Evan in the newspaper, nodded his head, and said,
"He is certainly a handsome young man."
"His name now. It's Evan."
"Evan, huh? That's a fine name too."
With skillful hands, the attendant wiped away the lipstick marks drawn haphazardly on Taffy's face. Taffy stamped her feet and beamed.
"Evan. Evan. Evan."
Repeating Evan's name several times, she looked at the ceiling and said,
"Evan. Live with me now."
The plain ceiling reflected the past. Taffy recalled her miserable past and Evan, who had been a ray of light in that life.
Evan.
Evan.
Evan.
"Live with me. Evan."
Her teeth were sharp.
"And."
She had lived as a slave, even transforming into a demon due to greedy humans. No one had loved her besides Evan.
Taffy said with a smile.
"Let's get revenge."
Her laughter spread. The attendant kept correcting the lipstick that kept getting askew every time she laughed.
"Together. Let's get revenge. Evan."