Betty trembled like a frightened chick, but in her eyes, a fragile light fred to life—the kind that comes from being rebuilt from ruins.

  Ham was frozen solid, his mouth agape in a silent scream. His face was a mask of unspeakable terror, as if his brain had just… short-circuited, unable to process such a horror.

  Aurora, on the other hand, took it best of the three.

  Her worldview had already been shattered once, by that stream in the woods. She still hadn’t managed to piece it back together. You can’t shatter gss that’s already in pieces.

  So, since she had no solid worldview to begin with, it couldn't exactly break again. She was, in fact, the first to calm down after the initial shock. The first to try and understand… and accept the truth.

  Her recovery was far, far faster than the other two.

  And it was precisely because of this that, after learning the truth, she finally and completely understood the deep meaning behind Pandora’s words.

  For example, “This world… is not what you imagine it to be.” And, “In a few days, the word ‘knight’ will become meaningless.”

  The clues connected. Everything made a terrible kind of sense.

  But a more fundamental question still pgued her.

  Who… who do I want to become?

  Regardless of the inner tempests raging within these people, Pandora had done what she needed to do. All that was left was to wait for the time to come, and then head for that unknown Demon Hunter Academy.

  That said, how exactly were they going to leave this world? Pandora was a little curious. Her thoughts began to wander, uncontrolbly.

  ………………

  The morning mist had not yet burned away, but the wide wn outside Dougs Manor was already a sea of chattering voices, a cmor of anxious noise.

  Arthur, just as Dulles had commanded, had led all the survivors from the town to the manor grounds, right on time, awaiting instructions.

  Since his heavy armor didn’t meet the “one item” requirement, Arthur wasn’t wearing the suit of pte that symbolized his status as “King.” He had, however, changed into the most magnificent clothes that could be found in the town—a dignified bck suit, trimmed with gold thread, left behind by the previous magistrate.

  Closest to him were a few of his core loyalists. They, too, wore no armor, but all had longswords at their hips, their expressions vigint as they instinctively cleared a small space around their “King,” a zone into which no one else dared intrude.

  Further off were the still-clueless vilgers, and the other knight squires he didn't trust as much. They stood in groups of three and five, chattering away, their noise especially loud and especially… fragile in this moment of mingled hope and uncertainty.

  Arthur’s gaze traveled over the crowds, fixing on the second-floor balcony of the manor house.

  There stood the daughter of the former Viscount Dougs, the second-most-noble person in name.

  And there was the knightess who would rather die than submit to him, Aurora—the prime suspect in the armory fire.

  As for Betty, the shivering “Little Kitchen Maid” behind Pandora, he paid her no mind.

  His gaze, at this moment, was complicated and difficult to read—a mix of st night’s humiliation, a yearning for greater power, a tangle of conflicted emotions regarding the former lord’s daughter, and… a wariness born of the unknown.

  Pandora stood on the balcony, the wind in her hair. She felt Arthur’s undisguised stare, but just as Arthur paid the “Little Kitchen Maid” no mind, she, too, paid him no mind.

  This complete disregard was, in turn, an even stronger irritant to Arthur. His fists tightened, his knuckles trembling slightly. That shred of guilt he felt for betraying the person he had pledged his loyalty to vanished in that moment, leaving behind only pure hostility.

  But… Pandora still had no reaction. Because Pandora genuinely… wasn't looking at him.

  She turned, her body angled toward the sea of people outside, and bowed her head, asking softly of the person beside her. “Have you all got your things?”

  Elsa stood beside her, as perfect as ever, holding nothing. Aurora and Betty stood to either side. Aurora had removed her heavy pte armor and was holding what she considered most important—the longsword Pandora had personally given her that night at the hunter’s cabin. Betty, meanwhile, was clutching a bloodstained, worn-at-the-edges cookbook. To her, this cookbook was clearly more important than anything else. Both answered in low voices that they were ready.

  At the same time, the other survivors from the outlying vilges were also arriving. In another direction, a little further off, Patrick, leading the surviving children of Calfskin Vilge, stood there quietly. Their gazes held none of the noise and blind excitement of Arthur’s group; instead, they looked upon Pandora with a pure reverence and dependence.

  Over a hundred children who had survived the camity, in the faint light of the early morning, had converged into a silent, oppressive ocean. Their eyes were filled with excitement for the future, and also with a confusion about the unknown path ahead. They didn't know what kind of future they were walking toward; they were simply looking forward to… a tomorrow where they no longer had to fear for their lives.

  ………………

  The morning mist did not burn away as it should have.

  On the contrary, at some unknown point, it began to thicken, fast. Unnaturally fast.

  It wasn’t a damp, fragrant water vapor, but a dry, coarse gray mist, mixed with choking particles of soot. It silently crept in, completely shrouding the wn outside the Dougs Manor.

  Visibility vanished. A person standing a few feet away was just a blurry shape, as if separated by a sheet of frosted gss.

  The crowd, its incessant, excited, and anxious whispers, were brutally suppressed by the sudden, deathly silence of a fog that seemed to swallow all sound.

  In its pce, a panic spread like a pgue.

  Arthur’s men instinctively huddled closer, their hands tightening on the grips of their crude weapons. They swept their gazes warily around them, at the ghostly shadows that writhed and twisted in the fog.

  Pandora, the moment the strange fog began to envelop the entire manor, led Aurora, Betty, and the statue-like Elsa out of the manor house. The other survivors from the manor stood behind them, likewise struck dumb by the supernatural spectacle.

  Pandora looked at that gray-bck vapor, and for some reason, a flicker of familiarity sparked in her mind.

  A wild, insane guess.

  No… way.

  Could it be…

  AnnouncementWant to read ahead? Or maybe listen? You can now read or listen to 30 advance chapters on my Patreon and help me keep Pandora’s adventure going strong ?

  Thank you all so much for the Favorites?? and Ratings????? — it really means everything to me!