Flashback—
After Dragomir took Arthur to his office, he ordered his men to escort Arthur into a dim, empty room. The walls were bare stone, lit only by a single torch crackling weakly in the corner. Arthur sat on a wooden bench, his hands trembling slightly—not out of guilt, but from exhaustion and the weight of what had just happened.
Meanwhile, Winston was taken to a heavy-security prison beneath the fortress. There, they bound him with sealing magic designed specifically by the royal army. Chains forged from enchanted steel wrapped around his limbs, and a shimmering prison of runic threads encased him. These threads looked delicate as silk, but they were unbreakable—woven with mana that grew stronger the more the prisoner resisted. Even an immortal like Winston was helpless inside them.
Arthur waited in silence until the door creaked open. Dragomir entered, tall and imposing, his armor gleaming even in the weak light. His face was unreadable as he closed the door behind him and approached.
"I spoke with a few villagers," Dragomir began, his deep voice echoing in the room. "They told me you have never hurt anyone. They spoke of your kindness, your willingness to help without asking for reward. And even though that monster killed the doctor, you still spared his life."
Arthur raised his tired eyes, unsure where this was leading.
"It takes courage to do so," Dragomir continued, his tone softening just slightly. "We thank you for that."
Arthur's lips parted. "So… you won't arrest me?"
Dragomir gave a faint smile, though his eyes remained sharp. "Of course not. Why would we arrest you? Winston framed you, and we were all misled into believing you were a vampire. You have committed no crime. There is no reason to keep you here. You are free to go."
Relief washed over Arthur like a cool wave. He exhaled shakily. "Thank you… thank you so much, Commander."
But Dragomir lifted a hand. "I do, however, have one condition."
Arthur stiffened. "What is it, sir?"
Dragomir's expression hardened. "You will tell everyone that it was me who defeated and captured that vampire… not you."
Arthur blinked, stunned. "But, sir…"
Dragomir leaned closer, his voice low, carrying an edge of authority that brooked no argument. "Listen, Arthur. This assignment means everything to me. Tomorrow, a royal knight arrives in this town. My rank is on the line. If I present Winston as my victory, it secures my position. If not…" His jaw tightened. "I lose everything. You understand, don't you? Nobody else knows what really happened. There won't be any problem for you. And besides—" he narrowed his eyes— "you wouldn't want to say no to an army commander, would you?"
Arthur's breath caught. The threat was clear, hidden beneath the polished words. His first instinct was to argue, but then he thought of Eamon… of Skarn… and of his own secret. If Dragomir took the credit, Arthur and Eamon's involvement would remain hidden. Their identities would be safe.
Arthur lowered his head. "I understand, sir. You can take the credit. I'll keep my mouth shut."
Dragomir's smile returned, colder this time. "Thank you, Arthur. You've saved me from ruin."
They shook hands. Arthur's grip was firm, but inside, anger twisted in his chest. He hated this charade, but he had no choice.
Arthur cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask one thing, sir. Has the killer confessed his crimes?"
Dragomir shrugged. "He has regenerated, but his tongue… oddly enough, it refuses to heal. He cannot speak. I don't know why you destroyed his tongue, but it seems fate has silenced him permanently."
Arthur smirked faintly, hiding the truth. "Just luck, I suppose."
Dragomir chuckled and motioned to the guards. "Do you want to see him?"
Arthur nodded. "Yes. Just once."
He followed the guards into the dungeon.
Inside, the air was thick with dampness and the faint hum of enchantments. At the center stood the prison: a vast cage of glowing, thread-like lines woven together in intricate patterns, each line pulsing faintly with energy. The seal suppressed mana itself, draining strength from the prisoner and turning power into weakness.
Arthur stepped closer. Winston sat within, bound by chains that glimmered with runes. His pale skin was scarred from burns, his chest still marred by wounds. Yet his eyes burned with fury as he stared at Arthur.
Arthur crouched near the seal, his face expressionless. "How does it feel, huh? Sitting here, knowing you're going to rot for eternity?"
Winston's lips curled, but no sound came. His tongue was gone, his voice stolen forever.
Arthur leaned closer, his words sharp as knives. "It's sad to see you like this. Defeated by a bunch of kids. But if you have even a shred of pride left, you'll stay silent. The world thinks Dragomir defeated you. And I think it's in your best interest to keep quiet."
He let the words hang in the air, knowing Winston's pride was his weakness.
Then Arthur's expression shifted. His eyes hardened. "I have one question. My mother… she always kept me hidden, saying the man who killed my father would one day come for her… and for me. That day, you told me you killed him because he tried to protect innocent humans. If that's true, then why chase us? Why hunt my mother? It doesn't add up. Why did you kill my father? Tell me the truth."
For a moment, silence. Then Winston chuckled—low, hollow, cruel.
Slowly, he extended one clawed hand, his long nails scraping against the stone floor. The sound echoed in the chamber as he carved letters into the stone. Arthur leaned closer, eyes narrowing, reading each word as they formed.
When Winston was finished, the message chilled Arthur to his bones:
"I was asked to kill your family by a man named Thorneval. I tell you this because I will not be here forever. Someday, I will get out and kill you and that cursed friend of yours. You have my word—I will not say a word about yesterday to anyone. Because I wish to kill you myself, by my own hands. So go live your life… while you can."
Arthur's hands clenched into fists. "Thorneval… who is he? Why would he want my family dead?"
Winston's cruel smile deepened. He shook his head, scratching over the words until they vanished into dust. His eyes gleamed, mocking Arthur with silence.
Arthur exhaled sharply. "Fine. Keep your secrets. I'll find the truth on my own. And if you do get out of here…" His voice hardened, his gaze fierce. "Come find me. We'll defeat you again."
He stood, turned, and walked away, leaving Winston bound in the glowing prison, his silent laughter echoing through the halls.
Present time—
Arthur finished speaking, his voice heavy with memory.
"This is what happened," he said quietly.
Helena placed a hand over her heart. "That means… you're safe. They won't arrest you." Relief filled her voice, her eyes softening.
Arthur gave a small smile. "Yes. We are safe now."
But Eamon hadn't spoken a word. He sat still, staring at the ground, his jaw tight, his expression shadowed.
Arthur frowned. "What happened, buddy? They don't suspect you or me. We're safe. Why are you sad?"
Eamon slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes burning with something deeper than relief. "The name you mentioned. Thorneval." His voice trembled, filled with both anger and dread. "I am also looking for a man with that same name."
Arthur froze, his blood running cold. His eyes widened. "What???"