The man tied to the chair was none other than Viscount Alden Blackwood—a man of great virtue. He was well-known for his acts of charity, often helping the commoners and regularly donating large sums to orphanages. He was one of the most famous young businessmen in the Empire, admired for his generosity and integrity.
The revelation sent a wave of confusion and fear through the crowd. How could someone so respected be tied to a chair, at the mercy of a mysterious woman, in a public performance?
The Knights came running, swiftly positioning themselves to cover the stage. The tension in the opera house grew thicker with every passing second.
Suddenly, another Knight appeared from the outside, breathless, and rushed toward the commander who stood at the back. He handed over an envelope, dark and mysterious, its contents concealed from view.
"Here is evidence about Viscount Alden," the Knight said, his voice low but urgent.
The commander's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his mind. "Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice steady yet filled with unspoken concern.
The Knight hesitated for a brief moment before answering, his tone colder than before. "Someone… someone left it in the office."
The words hung in the air. The commander took the envelope, his eyes widened as he saw the evidence, his voice booming through the opera house, "No one move! We will have the situation under control."
The commander moved forward, his eyes now focused on the woman who had a knife pressed to Viscount Alden's neck. "We have the evidence. You can let him go. You don't have to get your hands dirty. We will ensure you get justice."
"Nobody came to save you," the commander continued, his voice softening, "but now, you're saved."
The woman hesitated for a moment, her grip on the knife loosening.
Just when the knights thought they had the situation under control, the woman suddenly drove the knife into the man's lower abdomen.
A pained scream tore through the opera house as the viscount writhed in agony.
Gasps filled the air, but then-laughter.
"Serves him right," someone murmured.
"A man like him deserves no mercy," another whispered.
Some looked on in horror, while others watched with grim satisfaction, the line between justice and vengeance fading before their eyes.
The knights pointed their swords at her, ready to strike. The commander stepped forward, his voice firm but measured.
"Stop this now. Killing him won't bring you justice."
The woman let out a bitter laugh. "Justice?" She spat the word like poison.
"Where were you when I came to your grand, gleaming office, begging for help? You barely even looked at me—like I was nothing. Like I didn't matter. But now…" She tilted her head, eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Now, I wonder… do I finally have your attention?"
A heavy silence settled over the opera house.
"They call you the Black Hound," she continued, voice sharp as a blade. "A hunter of criminals. But tell me—when I sent you hundreds of letters, pleading for you to stop him… did you read even one?"
The commander's jaw tightened. He said nothing.
She turned to the audience, her piercing gaze sweeping over them.
"A mask can hide a monster, but it can't erase the sins beneath it."
"My suffering was a story no one wanted to hear—until I forced you to listen."
Her voice hardened. "And you—" She pointed at the crowd. "Just moments ago, you laughed at me. Now you laugh at him?"
She let out a hollow chuckle. "Tell me—what makes you any different from him? You turn your heads, you pass your judgment, but in the end, you only know how to watch. How to hurt."
Her eyes darkened as she whispered her final words.
"You are all murderers."
Her gaze shifted, instinctively rising to the shadowed balcony above the stage. As she looked up, her mind flooded with a memory, a flashback to a time before all of this began.
---
"You will die miserably in one year, at the hands of Viscount Alden, who will eventually discover your existence."
I stared at the strange woman with red hair and purple eyes who had just spoken these unbelievable words about my future.
"You have two choices," she continued coldly, "one is dying miserably, and the other is dying after taking revenge. Which one would you choose?"
"Is there no choice other than death?" I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.
"The day you hear the words 'you are saved,' the person you love most will die," she added.
In that moment, I thought, Who would I love anyway?Everyone I loved is dead.
But now, standing here, I realized the painful truth—I love you the most.
---
She gave a faint smile, then with a swift motion, cut her throat, collapsing lifelessly to the floor.
"The commander screamed 'Nooo!'—a single word that echoed through the silence, a cry of helplessness that shattered the illusion of control.
In that moment, it was clear: even the strongest could not escape the consequences of their actions."
"The past does not stay buried, nor does suffering remain silent. When the powerless are crushed beneath the weight of cruelty, their pain does not vanish—it lingers, waiting for the moment when the world is forced to remember. If justice will not come, then vengeance will rise in its place."
"And her death was one of her victories."
With that, the young prince ran outside, while the aide stood frozen, unable to move. He had witnessed countless deaths before, but this one was unlike any other.
The festival came to an end.
Fireworks illuminated the night sky, casting vibrant colors over the crowd. As the celebration unfolded, a figure dressed in a black cloak moved swiftly through the masses, their face hidden from view.
Behind them, the young prince pushed through the crowd, his voice urgent. "Stop!"
"You are Shadowbane, aren't you?" the prince shouted, recognition in his voice.
"The Shadowbane who killed nine people and destroyed three noble families."
The figure slowed for a moment, casting a glance back over their shoulder. In a calm voice, they responded, "Stay away from this case."
As she spoke, she tossed something into the air. A cloud of fine powder quickly engulfed the prince, blinding him momentarily. When he wiped his eyes and looked again, the figure was gone—disappeared into the shadows.
The prince stood still, hand pressed against his mouth, processing the moment. "The Shadowbane... is a woman."
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. "You told me to stay away, but now I'm only more determined to get involved."
---
I knocked on the door four times before a young woman opened it. She glanced behind me, expecting to see someone else, but when she saw that I was alone, her expression turned angry.
Before I could even step inside, she slapped me across the face.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you only save people just to watch them die?" she asked, her words cutting through the silence.
I stayed silent, my eyes empty, as the weight of her words sank in.
"Emily..." she sobbed, her voice breaking. "That girl stayed with us for a year. She adored you so much. How could you let her die?"
The old man sat in the corner, his face hidden behind his hands. He said nothing, unable to offer any words of comfort or explanation.
I walked into the room and locked the door behind me. Then, I collapsed to the floor, overcome by the sorrow. Tears streamed down my face as I whispered, "I told you... I can't save anyone. Changing one story only brings another misery."
Sob- Sob-
Sobs escaped from my mouth, each one heavier than the last.
"Ivy, don't worry so much,I won't die that easily. And there's no way I will kill myself."
"Emily, you said that last night. I even left evidence in the office so you could live. But in reality, I already knew how this would end. I knew you would die..but I never stopped you."
"Because I don't know how to stop. I only know how to start."
Sobs wracked my body, each breath a painful reminder of what I couldn't change.
As my tears continued to fall, I finally collapsed to the ground, my body too weak to hold itself up any longer. The world around me blurred, and in that moment, I gave into the crushing weight of my sorrow, falling asleep right there, on the cold, unforgiving floor.