As soon as the darkness lifted, everything snapped back into focus. It felt like I'd only blinked, yet something was different. Was this the result of the ritual? I turned my gaze to the platform and saw Duke Merca standing there, frozen, his eyes wide.
"H-Huh?" He looked down at his hand, trembling, and saw a knife clutched tightly, its blade buried deep in his daughter's chest. Crimson streaked his hand—his own daughter's blood, spilling by his own doing. The shock shattered whatever spellbound trance he'd been under. "W-What have I done?"
The horror in his face said it all. The memories from when he was brainwashed were still intact, and it was tearing him apart. He adored his daughter, cherished her so much he even increased cake production just so she'd have her favorite treat. And now, he'd stolen her life with his own hands.
"Noooooooooooo! What have I done?! What have I doneeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
