As the night deepened, the Maple Leaf Snow lay tranquil and serene.
In this city, renowned as the capital of Demacia, the harmonious coexistence of commoners and nobles was largely attributed to Demacia's relatively just and stringent laws compared to other nations.
Here, the rampant bullying of commoners by the nobility, so often witnessed in other realms, was a rare occurrence.
However, it must be acknowledged that Demacia was still predominantly governed by the aristocracy, and the dark sins borne of privilege among the high-ranking nobles were not significantly less than those found in other countries.
The shadows concealed beneath the opulent lights, and the malevolence lurking beneath the polite veneer of grand soirées often instilled a profound sense of dread, even in those who had orchestrated these evils.
It was a ruthless interpretation of humanity's most selfish and wicked facets.
Yet, in this realm, the existence of law prevented the nobility from freely oppressing the common folk; even a powerful noble, if intent on eliminating a commoner, had to meticulously erase all traces of their deed. Should any evidence fall into the hands of political adversaries, it could spell utter ruin before the throne, with some unfortunate nobles losing not only their fortunes but their very lives as well.
Perhaps the world is indeed as beautiful as some bards proclaim, yet humanity has never ceased its intricate machinations against one another. Such behaviors have merely become more frequent among the aristocracy, resulting in greater destruction.
Thanks to Demacia's legal framework, the nobles' ability to cover up their misdeeds far surpassed that of their counterparts in other nations.
Although legends depict Maple Leaf Snow as a city brimming with freedom and kindness, it remains, like any ordinary city, divided into noble and commoner districts, with dark alleys still concealing malevolence.
At this hour, the night had grown deep; even the nobles, accustomed to revelry day and night, had mostly retired to their chambers. The once brightly lit noble quarter now lay in silence, as the radiant full moon cast its gentle light, illuminating the cobblestone streets alongside the lampposts.
Baron Cleo Belial paced restlessly in his study, anxious that his loyal old steward had not yet returned with the common girl he had requested.
Recalling the enchanting little girl he had chanced upon days prior, Cleo felt a tickle in his throat and a fiery desire igniting within him, intensifying his impatience.
Why... why has she not arrived yet?
Cleo frequently glanced at the study door, yearning for his devoted steward to knock and present the girl before him.
He envisioned the pitiable girl bound with coarse ropes, her delicate form rendered helpless beneath him, crying out in desperation, her sweet, childlike voice pleading for mercy, yet ultimately powerless to resist, destined to be pierced through by him...
Cleo shuddered violently, never before feeling time stretch so interminably.
As an ordinary baron without significant influence, he had always kept his distance from the oppression and abduction of common women. He understood that, as a minor noble, any misstep would lead to a fate no different from that of an ordinary criminal under Demacia's laws.
Yet everything changed one fateful day.
That day, while merely passing through the streets, he encountered a charming little girl, so captivating that she seemed an angel to him, and he found himself utterly enchanted.
His infatuation surged with overwhelming intensity, consuming him entirely.
Since then, he had been trapped in a state of despair, enduring a relentless torment.
Even his once-beloved pastime of horse racing lost its allure, and meals that had previously delighted his palate now tasted like mere ash.
In just seven days, he had become gaunt and unsteady, resembling a terminally ill patient on the brink of death, feeling as if he were nearing his own demise.
Yet he dared not act; he knew that a noble of his stature could not recklessly challenge the empire's laws without facing dire consequences.
Having adhered to the rules since childhood, he had navigated the aristocratic circles with trepidation, never daring to offend those of greater power, even among his peers, where he remained subservient as a lowly servant.
He recognized his desires but lacked the courage to pursue them, resigning himself to the belief that perhaps his life would conclude in this manner.
Then, perhaps the goddess herself could no longer tolerate his cowardice and finally granted him an opportunity for change.
When he was stealthily led by his loyal steward to the woodshed in the backyard, his timidity nearly overwhelmed him.
The girl who haunted his dreams, the very source of his torment, was bound tightly with rough ropes, a rag stuffed in her mouth, leaving her to emit only muffled sounds.
Upon seeing the door open, the girl struggled fiercely, her large eyes brimming with tears. Yet her pitiful demeanor ignited a fervor within Cleo that had been suppressed for days.
After an indeterminate time, when Cleo regained his senses, the girl lay lifeless beneath him, her tender form marred by countless bruises, both large and small.
Cleo could not recall how he departed, but as he stumbled out of the woodshed, disheveled and in a daze, his ever-loyal steward bowed respectfully, performing a gesture of fealty, uttering a phrase that etched itself into Cleo's mind:
"Master, you are a noble."
Indeed! I am a noble.
Cleo finally comprehended something profound; deep within his long-weak heart, a seed had broken through the shell of his exterior, beginning to sprout quietly.
After trembling through a month, when the Demacian guard had not come knocking at his door, that nascent seed within him burgeoned with alarming vigor.
Thus, when he once again beheld a similarly enchanting little girl on the streets, he smiled.
His smile radiated with excitement, happiness, and unrestrained joy.
In that moment, he felt as though he were the happiest person in the world.
Look! I have the fortune to possess such beauty! Oh, goddess! Surely this is your most merciful gift to your humble devotee! How else could I be so fortunate as to encounter such a beautiful angel?
Ah... fear not, dear goddess! Your humble servant shall not betray your gift or expectations.
So, this time, he discreetly informed his steward of his intentions, and, as anticipated, his loyal steward swiftly uncovered the girl's identity and background, confirming that she hailed from a common family.
He smiled with delight; indeed... the goddess was on his side.
Creak—
The opening door interrupted his reverie, as a chill wind, incongruous with the summer night, swept into the room, causing Cleo to shiver.
He turned in surprise, only to find that the figure at the threshold was neither his faithful steward nor the girl he awaited. Instead, it resembled a demon emerging from the depths of hell, cloaked in an aura of dark malevolence.
"Who... who are you?" The cold wind struck him, forcing a shiver from his spine, as an ominous premonition gripped him. "Ulrick! Ulrick! Come quickly!"
Yet Cleo had forgotten that his loyal steward was not home this night; no amount of shouting could summon him.
As he watched the uninvited guest silently advance into the study, step by deliberate step, Cleo retreated in panic, crying out, "Help! Anyone! Please... please come!"
But his cries went unanswered, his terrified pleas dissipating into the stillness of the night.
He had forgotten that, for convenience, he had sent away all the household servants that evening, leaving the baron's residence eerily silent under the night sky.
"Who are you! Who are you! Who are you?!" Cleo found himself cornered against the study wall, pressed against the cold surface, tears streaming down his face as he gazed at the diminutive figure before him. "Don't come any closer! Please, don't!"
"Please... don't come closer! I beg you!"
Under the flickering candlelight, the figure's steps did not falter at Cleo's desperate pleas, advancing with the inexorable pace of a cold reaper come to claim a life.
As the distance closed, a pure sky-blue hue appeared beneath the dim light, only to be swept away by a chilling breeze, vanishing into the oppressive darkness.
Suddenly engulfed in darkness, Cleo's terrified scream pierced the silence, "I know! I know! It's you! It must be you... ah!!" In a heart-wrenching wail, the baron's estate succumbed to an eerie stillness, and beneath the cool, watery moonlight, a waltz of the night began to play.