TPWTL 13

Chapter 13. I’m Afraid of You

“Send a messenger to the Empire.”

The Crown Prince repeated Greta’s words like a puppet. His eyes were clear—so unnaturally clear that no one could dare say something was wrong with him. He hadn’t blinked even once, which was eerie, but no one in the room noticed.

Then, Greta’s words flowed out of the Crown Prince’s mouth.

“There is someone who can track down the culprit behind the incidents occurring on the outskirts of the capital.”

An unexpected incident spoken by an unexpected person in an unexpected place. Before Olivia and Cryer could even begin investigating, Greta had already sensed what was happening from the distant Norden Royal Palace. She had felt a faint presence even before she killed her father, the mage. Her father might have missed it, but Greta, a far superior magician, had noticed—it was growing steadily. And if she could sense it, it surely must be connected to the Ancient God.

Her green eyes shimmered like a serpent’s. She licked her lips, and the Crown Prince echoed her murmured words.

“I will help capture the culprit as soon as possible.”

As soon as Greta closed her mouth, so did the Crown Prince. When she turned, he followed beside her. Upon returning to the King’s office, Greta gently tapped the Crown Prince’s cheek and whispered,

“Well done.”

Only then did the Crown Prince close his eyes, and Greta placed a light kiss on his forehead. For a fleeting moment, the mark of the Ancient God appeared on his forehead—but it vanished as quickly as it came. Greta gave the now limp Crown Prince a glance, then seated herself deeply into the King’s chair. She closed her eyes and followed the disturbing presence that kept tugging at her mind.

The heart of the Empire—the outskirts of the capital.

The chaotic and unstable aura swirling there was undeniable.

“What a useless stunt.”

She clicked her tongue shortly. It was irritating that someone was invoking the Ancient God’s power beyond her sight. If an unworthy fool conducted a botched ritual, the descent of the Ancient God might be delayed—or worse, canceled altogether. She would need to find the person and burn them to ashes. Whatever they’d done would have to be purified completely.

“Should I contact Cryer?”

He had reportedly been caught by the imperial princess. No, more likely, he chose to stay there. A mere princess couldn’t restrain someone like him.

Still, she shook her head.

There was no need to bother him with such small fry.

“All things are by the will of the Ancient God.”

If he was truly the holy warrior of a sacred god, then whatever he chose to do must be divine will.

“Cryer…”

As she whispered his name and stroked an empty canvas, a dazzling smile bloomed on her face.

“No matter how far away you are, you’re always so vivid to me.”

She hugged the blank canvas and closed her eyes. A deep shadow fell over her eyelids.

At that same moment, while blood splattered across the corridors of Norden’s palace, Olivia and Cryer had just pushed through dense trees and bushes to reach a wide clearing.

“This is the place.”

At Cryer’s words, Olivia carefully surveyed the surroundings, but nothing stood out.

“I should’ve asked earlier, but…”

“Hm?”

“This case—do you remember it?”

Realizing he meant from before the regression, Olivia shook her head.

“There was a case like this. Yes. But…”

She narrowed her eyes and tried to recall.

“A different investigator was assigned to it at the time, and not long after, it was closed.”

“Closed? Then they must’ve found the culprit.”

He didn’t need to finish the question; Olivia already knew what he was getting at and shook her head again.

“They never identified the culprit.”

“So they closed it without catching them?”

“No. They found someone, but it was a completely charred corpse, and the body was found in one of the missing victims’ homes.”

In other words, there were no real leads. No clues to the real perpetrator.

“You said you smelled blood. Where?”

“Here. And over there, too.”

Cryer pointed to patches of earth darker than the surrounding ground—freshly disturbed. A deep crease formed between his brows. The stench of blood and decomposing bodies was so intense it made one’s nose curl.

“Here?”

Olivia stepped where Cryer had first pointed and blinked in confusion.

“What the—?”

Her foot suddenly floated in the air.

“Cryer?!”

He swiftly caught her in one arm and kicked off the ground. The soggy soil crumbled beneath them, exposing even darker, bloodier earth.

Cryer set Olivia down a short distance from the scene and asked,

“Don’t tell me… you can’t smell it?”

Olivia responded, puzzled,

“I have to be really close to smell anything. Unlike you, I’m just a normal human.”

It sounded logical, but Cryer didn’t nod.

“You can’t smell this reek?”

When he asked again, Olivia scrunched her nose and sniffed—but smelled nothing but grass.

“Nope. If anything, it smells kind of sweet? Like flowers. A sweet floral scent?”

She looked around curiously and spotted Cryer, now back at the clearing.

“Hey! Don’t go off alone!”

“You’re better off staying there. This area is heavily tainted.”

“‘Tainted’? What do you mean?”

Her confusion was understandable. The area was covered in lush greenery, and there really was a subtle, sweet scent. Sure, the disturbed ground was suspicious, but “tainted” seemed excessive.

Instead of answering, Cryer picked up a broken tree branch nearby.

Whoosh.
He casually swung it. The air split, and the wet, black soil sliced apart cleanly like a soft cake. It was unbelievable—such a slim stick, barely twice the size of Olivia’s finger, had caused that.

But Olivia didn’t look surprised.

After all, this was the man who once shattered the Empire’s strongest palace wall with a single swing of his sword. Even if he’d done it with a finger instead of a stick, she wouldn’t have been shocked.

Instead, she stood on tiptoe and waved her arms.

“Cryer! Say something! What’s going on?!”

It was frustrating, but if he told her not to move, there had to be a reason. Olivia didn’t believe he always told the truth, but she didn’t think he lied needlessly either.

So she stayed put.

After what felt like forever, with several furrows forming on her brow, Cryer finally spoke.

“When did this start?”

“The disappearances?”

“Yes.”

Olivia recalled the documents she had reviewed the night before.

“A few years ago.”

“That’s what I thought. It began long before that. At least several years back.”

“What do you mean—wait, don’t—”

Before she could finish, Cryer was suddenly right in front of her.

Olivia was so startled she couldn’t even scream. She stood frozen, mouth agape, and Cryer gently closed her jaw with his hand.

Olivia’s lips sealed shut at his touch, but frustration surged within her, and she glared at him.

“I just wanted to show you quickly since you seemed frustrated.”

Though she hadn’t said a word, he seemed to know she was upset about how he kept popping up without warning.

Seeing her trembling shoulders and wide, watery eyes, Cryer lowered his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“If you know that, then don’t—”

“I’ll keep doing it. You’d better get used to it.”

Before she could even finish protesting, he cut her off.

“That’s your way of apologizing—mmph! Mmmph!”

His large hand covered her mouth. Olivia smacked at it in protest but froze at his next words.

“Get used to it.”

She couldn’t see his eyes, hidden in shadow, but his low voice was filled with unfiltered sincerity.

“I can’t warn you every time something dangerous happens and save you at the last second.”

Olivia looked up at him. There was nothing to refute. He was right—they were on the same boat, running toward the same deadly goal.

But…

Olivia gently removed his hand.

“Cryer.”

Her blue eyes, still as a windless lake, met his dark crimson ones, burning like an endless fire.

They stared at each other for a long moment before Olivia finally spoke.

“You’re right. I do need to get used to it.”

“Good.”

Cryer answered immediately, not even letting her breathe. Olivia pushed him lightly and shook her head.

“You’re right, but still…”

Yes, his words were perfectly logical given their situation.

But.

Four times.
Cryer had killed her four times—without hesitation, without mercy.

Even though she now walked beside him, even though she knew he wasn’t a thoughtless murderer swinging his blade around—

“I’m still afraid of you.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she looked directly into Cryer’s eyes. It was primal fear.

Like a prey facing the apex predator of the food chain.

Cryer didn’t try to comfort her. He didn’t understand, couldn’t empathize.

He only said what he meant, sincerely.

“I won’t kill you.”

How could she not recognize that raw honesty?

Olivia nodded hard.

“I know. But still, my heart sinks and—wait… What are you doing?”