Chapter 112: The Strange Warm Place
Seamus blinked against the darkness. He couldn’t see anything around him, as if the place had swallowed every trace of light.
When he finally opened his eyes again, he was standing in a hallway that was certainly not Corvane’s manor.
It was an old building. The wooden floor creaked under his boots with each small step. Yet despite its age, the place was clean and well kept: large but not luxurious, simple yet inviting.
When he turned his head toward an open window, a warm breeze drifted through, carrying with it the soft scent of flowers. A few petals fluttered in and scattered across the floor.
This place somehow calmed down his heart. Seamus knew he wasn’t really killing Viviane. Even the blood in his hand was all gone as he was clean again. But still, it disturbed him.
Especially when he has been longing to meet her. Unfortunately, every time he did, she always became a weapon to weaken his mind. He gritted his teeth, "That fucking Corvane!"
His rage wasn’t held for long the moment he heard a child’s laughter echoed down the corridor.
"Hahaha! Catch me if you can!"
"You’re cheating! The game hasn’t started yet!"
Two children ran past him, their giggles filling the air before fading around the corner.
"What...?" he muttered to himself.
For a moment, he stood still, unable to breathe properly. The air here was clean and light, smelling of sunlit meadows instead of blood and rot.
The sunlight spilling through the windows was golden and warm, so different from the red moonlight he had grown used to, the kind that always brought screams and the scent of death.
"Where am I?" he whispered. "Another illusion?"
He braced himself, half expecting to see Viviane or his mother. Yet he could not bring himself to move.
His body refused to take even a single step. The silence around him was unsettling, and Madeline’s voice, which usually haunted his thoughts, was nowhere to be heard.
Something touched his back.
He flinched, instinctively drawing his bone sword through his palm, and spun around with the blade aimed at whoever stood behind him.
But instead of an enemy, he saw a little girl staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes. Tears welled in them as she trembled, the tip of his sword still at her throat.
"Ah... sorry," Seamus muttered, pulling the sword back into his arm.
He reached out awkwardly and gave her shoulder a light pat, unsure how to comfort her.
He was never good with children.
As he looked closer at her face, his eyes widened. There was something painfully familiar about her.
Long brown hair tied into a neat bun, hazel eyes that shimmered like polished amber, a small teddy bear clutched tightly in one arm, and a blue dress that suited her perfectly.
"Lilac?"
"Huh?" The little girl blinked, rubbing her tear-streaked cheeks as she looked up at him in confusion.
"How do you know my name?"
Seamus froze. His breath caught as he remembered the reports he had read in that underground lab.
He had seen her before, not alive, but as a head preserved inside a glass tank. The failed experiment.
So how was she here now, looking so full of life and color?
"Do you know where this place is?" Seamus asked quietly, his voice low and cautious. "Or how to get out of here?"
His hand, still resting on her shoulder, tightened unconsciously. The girl winced, gripping his wrist and crying out, "Mister, you’re hurting me!"
He blinked, startled, then quickly let go. "Ah... sorry," he said again, guilt washing over his face as she rubbed her shoulder.
"Ugh, I don’t want to talk to you anymore! Sister Elle is right, never talk with strangers!" Lilac turned sharply and ran down the hallway before Seamus could say anything.
"Wait! I’m not a bad guy!"
He chased after her, boots echoing against the tiles, until a man suddenly stepped out from a room.
The door suddenly flung open as someone came out and collided straight into him. The impact was small but enough to knock the man down while she bolted away.
Seamus hesitated for a second, torn between helping the stranger and catching the child. By the time he turned, Lilac had already disappeared into another corridor like a ghost.
He sighed, scratching his neck in frustration, then offered his hand to the man on the floor.
His bangs hid half his face, but he could tell this stranger was older, draped in a green robe that hung loosely over his shoulders.
His hair was unkempt, long enough to brush his collar, and there was something weary about the way he moved, as if he hadn’t slept in years and he also dressed like someone out of the cave.
The man groaned, accepting Seamus’s hand and standing up with a faint downward smile. "Why are you here? Who are you?"
"I... well, I think I’m a lab experiment?" Seamus said without thinking.
It was a guess, but he met Lilac who was a victim of a lab experiment here. Lilac had also mentioned someone named "Elle," which is the Crow name.
That meant this strange man was likely one of them too. This place must be somewhere they souls gathered into who knows for.
"What?" The man laughed lightly, shaking his head.
"What a weird man." He brushed his robe and began walking away.
Seamus frowned and followed him. "What do you mean? Isn’t this the place where all lab experiments are gathered? Hey, answer me!"
"Are you maybe having memory loss and forgetting you already died?"
"I’m alive, you know. Aren’t you too?"
Before he could ask further, the man suddenly pulled him into the next room and shut the door.
"Hey, what are you—"
"Quiet!" The man’s tone was sharp but calm.
From outside, Seamus could hear Lilac’s trembling voice. "Miss, I saw a stranger here, and he almost killed me with a sword!"
"Hm? Can you tell me where he is? Don’t worry, Lilac, I will catch and punish him," another voice replied, low and distorted, almost humming through the walls.
"Really, miss? He was on—"
Seamus peeked through the small glass window, but what he saw made his stomach twist.
A creature stood there, tall and grotesque, its form made of brown, twisting veins that pulsed like living roots.
It didn’t have a face, only the vague shape of a humanoid figure. The strands that looked like hands reached out and patted Lilac’s head in a disturbingly gentle way.
His fingers clenched around the doorknob. He was ready to burst out, but the man beside him grabbed his arm.
"What do you think you’re doing? Still planning to chase that girl?"
Seamus blinked, unsure if the man had seen the monster. "Didn’t you see—"
"Are you a pervert?" the man interrupted, his voice teasing but suspicious.
"What? No! I want to save that girl! And you’re the one who looks like a pervert!" Seamus snapped back, whispering harshly.
"Darn it, keep your voice down!" the man hissed.
Before either could move, the door handle turned slowly. Through the glass, Seamus saw the creature reaching for the door.
His hand went instinctively to his sword, ready to draw. But a small voice shouted from outside,
"Miss! Elle has already woken up!"
The creature froze. "Oh my! What good news. I will go with you," it said, turning and gliding away.
Both men exhaled in relief. Seamus leaned against the wall, his chest rising and falling. He looked down at his wrist, where the cracked bracelet still pulsed with faint light.
The damn thing had eaten most of his power, but now he could feel a faint spark again.
’Maybe that’s why I can still use my bone sword,’ he thought as he didn’t even realize it as he was too busy grieving.
The man noticed. "Hmm... that’s an interesting bracelet. Give it to me, and I’ll get you out of here." He reached for Seamus’s hand, studying the device as its twin lights flickered faintly.
Seamus didn’t answer. His mind raced. There was a reason Madeline hadn’t removed this thing.
Perhaps she wanted him to be as harmless as possible when he got caught again and they won’t change this broken thing.
But still, this bracelet became a pain in the ass for him.
"You think too much, boy," the man muttered.
Before Seamus could react, the stranger touched the bracelet, and it split into two identical pieces that slipped off his wrist.
His eyes widened, Madeline herself could only disable it for moments—Though she confidently said she could disarm it too—yet this man did it effortlessly.
"You... who are you?" Seamus began, but his voice faltered.
Madeline’s voice echoed faintly in his mind, broken and distorted like a cracked radio before stabilizing.
’Seamus, can you hear me?’
’If you can, go to the window. You’ll see a dark forest in the distance. Go there. The Emblem of Enigma sleeps beneath those trees.’
He stepped toward the window. The room looked like a children’s classroom, full of faded posters and crooked drawings taped to the walls.
Outside, past the grey field and mist, he saw it, an expanse of black trees shrouded in crimson fog. The forest pulsed like a living wound.
"So... he was there," Seamus murmured, his eyes narrowing as he gripped his sword again, ready to move.