Trigger Warning!
This chapter contains sensitive, heavy content, dark psychology, PTSD, depictions of the reality of war, bloody violence, death and implicit SA references. Not suitable for sensitive readers.
On the Forest Road out of the Western Rose Garrison City...
“Thud—!” The horse-drawn carriage jolted as it rolled over the gravel road. A woman in a gray suit stood silently behind the carriage.
Detective Clara remained frozen. Her lips opened slowly. "Captain Reynard..."
Her green eyes reflected the image of a knight with short orange hair sitting stiffly on his galloping horse. His silver armor gleamed in the moonlight.
“Clop… clop…” The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed alongside the carriage. The knight’s hands would not stop trembling as they gripped the reins.
Reynard turned his head to the right, unblinking. The figure of a misty woman in white kimono floated in the air like a fish was swimming. Her lip merely smiled at him.
“Impossible… you are—ugh…”
His right hand clutched his head. A woman with white dress stood in the castle hall, smiling at him. "Reynard—" her soft voice echoed in his head.
"Hah... hah..." Sweat dripped down his temples. His breath was ragged, tried to remember that woman's face. But a hazy mist veiled his mind.
The mist-born woman drifted closer to Reynard’s face. Closer and closer, until she was only an inch away. Her lips kissed his forehead.
A wet sensation crept across his forehead. His vision blurred and blurred. Fragments of memory flood his mind.
His blue eyes fluttered as those memories grew clearer and clearer. Pieces of memory fit together and were tied together in his mind like puzzle pieces. His eyes widened—
…
Memories of the Past…
February 10, 1050 Years of Rose Ages (RA) — the Heyday of the Rose Kingdom Before the Amnesiac World.
The smell of iron and fishy smells wafted through the air. A burly man gasped weakly upon a stone throne.
The sword wrapped in a green aura pierced through the snake tattoo engraved on his chest. The man clutched the blade until his palms bled, yet the sword continued to sink deeper.
“Ugh—” The man vomited blood. “Do… you really think… you can survive… after doing this… to me, Reynard?”
“Stab—rip…” The blade was driven straight into his chest. Blood splattered as the sword was swiftly withdrawn.
“I don’t need validation from a leader of the Serpent Gang like you, Yazi."
The young knight sheathed his sword, then turned his back on Yazi’s body slumped upon the throne.
His steps walked on the moist floor and stopped in the underground hall. His eyes narrowed.
Hundreds of corpses lay scattered across the underground chamber, blood soaking the stone floor. A arm was stretched out, revealing the snake tattoo on his shoulder.
Reynard took a piece of gray paper from his dark robes. His lips curled downward, his eyes sharpened reading each line of red ink.
Drug trafficking, robbery, premeditated murder, fraud through gambling and loan sharking—the Snake Gang had committed many heinous crimes in the city of Western Rose Garrison.
He stood still for a moment. His hand crumpled the paper.
"Tap... tap..." His steps walked on the stone floor. His pupils dilated as darkness greeted him along the gray stone-walled passage
His steps stopped in front of an iron cage in the corner of the hall. He stood still, gripping the hilt of his sword—
“Shriing—swoosh…” He slashed the iron cage four times before sheathing his sword again.
“Clang—” The iron door was severed and fell onto the stone floor. Inside the cage, a white haired girl in a white dress cowered, trembling in the corner.
Reynard stood in silence and extended his hand. “Miss… come here. No one will hurt you anymore.”
The girl slowly turned her head. Her face went pale when she noticed the bloodstains on his sword sheath. She curled back into herself, hugging her body.
Reynard glanced at his sword sheath. He removed it and placed it on the floor.
He raised his hands. “I won’t hurt you, Miss. Please trust me."
Hearing his gentle voice, the girl looked at Reynard again. Her lips trembled, then forced themselves open.
“Will… will you… force me… to marry you?”
“Marry?!” Reynard frowned. “Miss, you misunderstand! I’m just a newly appointed knight assigned to protect this city.”
He tapped his chest. “Your parents have been crying at the knight garrison ever since you disappeared for three days. I just want to help them.”
“Did the Serpent Gang… force you?”
The girl’s face turned pale. “They… haven’t touched me. But they almost forced me… to marry… a drunk boy… who was violent.”
He sighed heavily. “Don’t worry, Miss. I’ve defeated them. Let’s go home. Your parents are waiting for you.”
The girl slowly stood and stepped out of the cage. She stopped in front of Reynard and bowed her head.
“Thank you… for saving me.” She looked up. The young knight was smiling.
She reflexively lowered her gaze again, a faint blush colouring her cheeks.
“What… is your name… sir?”
“Reynard. You may call me Knight Reynard, Miss.”
“Safira… is my name.”
Reynard picked up his sword sheath and secured it at his waist, then stepped forward to lead the way. “Let’s go home, Miss Safira.”
Safira nodded and followed him.
Reynard stopped before a table draped with a white cloth. Steak, bread, and wine sat untouched atop it.
Across the table lay a corpse soaked in blood, the body of a gang member he had just killed.
His right hand covered Safira’s eyes. “Don’t look, Miss.”
He kicked the table over to conceal the body. But beneath it, a bald teenager was revealed, clutching his head.
“Don’t kill me—” the boy trembled.
Safira reacted as she peeked through his fingers. “He… he’s the Serpent Gang leader’s son… the one who tried to force me to marry him.”
His eyes sharpened at the boy. “Miss… please close your eyes for a moment—”
Safira closed her eyes. Her left hand held Reynard's robes. The sound of blows followed by sobs echoed in his ears.
“Forgive me—I didn’t touch her! Aarrgh—My father never even hit me! You’re cruel… hic…”
“Open your eyes, Miss.”
Her blue eyes opened. The boy’s hands were bound tightly with rope.
“Let’s continue our journey, Miss. Night is falling.”
The three of them left the dark corridor together. Along the way, Reynard covered Safira’s eyes whenever they passed rooms heavy with the metallic scent of blood, dragging the bald boy behind them.
...
June 10, 1050 Years of RA
“Congratulations on your marriage. I never expected… that you would marry so soon.”
Reynard stood while holding Safira’s hand. He smiled at her words.
“Thank you, Lady Serena. I was simply fortunate.” He scratched the back of his head.
“Miss Safira… may you be blessed with a happy life.”
Safira nodded. “Thank you, Lady Serena.”
Lady Serena smiled for a moment. Her golden eyes reflected the image of a man in a white suit and a woman in a white dress. She left the newlyweds and headed toward the banquet tables.
Reynard watched the guests enjoying their meals in the castle hall. He fell silent for a moment before speaking.
“Safira… I still can’t believe how quickly time has passed. It feels like only yesterday I saw you crying in your parents’ arms.”
Safira nodded. “I’m glad you were there for me… and that you freed me from that cage.”
She lowered her head, her cheeks flushed.
“You’re right. I remember how you thought I was forcing you to marry me back then. Haha…”
Safira nudged her husband’s arm and covered her face. “Don’t tease me… I really thought you were a bad person back then—”
“And what about now?”
“Now… you’re my husband.”
Reynard smiled and extended his hand. “May I have this dance, my wife?”
Safira took Reynard’s hand. “Of course, my love.”
…
November 11, 1051 Years of RA
Reynard stood before a mirror, adjusting his steel armour and fastening his sword sheath at his waist.
His lips curved downward as he stared at his own reflection.
"
I don’t want to go—"
“Darling… are you certain you’re going?”
A soft voice called him. Reynard turned back.
Safira stood in front of him. She wore a simple house dress.
“Our child may be born any day now.” She stroked her swollen belly gently.
Reynard smiled. “I want to stay by your side—but the Kingdom of Rose has summoned me,” clenching his fist.
Safira lowered her gaze. “If only… you weren’t a knight. Maybe we could have spent more time together.”
Reynard embraced his wife. “Don’t say that, my love. I became a knight because I wanted to protect you and this kingdom.”
Safira returned his embrace. “But they’re forcing you to fight the rebels.”
“I heard you’re being sent to fight Mist Garden… the first nation of females on the continent.” She bit her lip. “What if you don’t come back?”
“Don’t say that. I promise I’ll return.”
Safira loosened her embrace and extended her little finger. “A promise?”
“A promise—I swear it.” He linked his little finger with hers.
...
November 20, 1051 Years of RA
“Clop… clop…” Hooves struck the dusty ground. Clouds of dust rose into the air, mingling with drifting mist beneath the crimson dusk sky.
Thousands of cavalrymen advanced in orderly formation across the barren desert, slithering like serpents. They wore full plate armour.
They rode while chatting among themselves, their lips curling into smiles as they spoke of war rewards.
“I heard…" A knight stroked his bald head. "Mist Garden is filled with beautiful girls.”
“The commander said they’ll distribute the ‘spoils’ of war once we conquer that land of mist.” A red-haired knight held his chin.
“I can’t wait to fight!" A knight's hollow-eyes sharpened. "Shadowmist are nothing but discarded women. I could cut them down without blinking. Haha.” Saliva dripped from his mouth.
They continued their vulgar jokes throughout the journey.
Yet among them, a young knight rode with his head lowered the entire way. Reynard's lips curved downward each time he heard their words.
"This is wrong! Knights should protect."
Reynard rode alongside the line of knights. His eyes dimmed at the sound of metal clanking.
Day turned into night. The knights set up camp upon the desolate land. Some tended to their horses, others cleaned their metal gear or prepared the evening meal.
When dinner was ready, the cook struck his metal pan. The knights lined up neatly to receive their rations.
After waiting his turn, Reynard stood before the banquet table. Bread, soup, roasted pork, wine, and water were laid out before him. He paused, staring at the spread, then asked the cook.
“Why is the meal so lavish? We’re going to war, aren’t we?”
The cook sneered. “Be grateful, Reynard. The commander granted us a luxurious meal. He said greater rewards await after we conquer that land of abandoned women.”
The fat cook leaned close and whispered into Reynard’s ear. “I heard the commander plans to give each of us a captive girl.”
He licked his lips. “They say the women of Mist Garden are famous for their beauty. Those red eyes are truly exotic. Hehehe…”
Reynard frowned at the whisper. He immediately took only soup, bread, and water, then left the banquet table.
“Thank you for the meal.”
The cook puckered his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want roasted pork and wine? Your plate looks rather poor, dude.”
“This is enough… I’ll save my strength for tomorrow.”
Reynard walked through the camp. Knights clinking cups and devouring roasted pork greedily by the campfire. Most of them talked about what they would do to the ‘spoils’ of war.
Reynard passed them by and entered his tent.
He sat cross-legged, holding his bowl. His lips were tightly pressed together.
Reynard pulled a black pill from the pocket of his cloak. He dropped it into his bowl, dissolved it into the soup, and slowly ate.
“This soup tastes more bitter,” he spooned it up. “But it’s better for me.”
Three, eight, ten spoonfuls. The bowl was empty.
Reynard drank the water to the last drop, then returned his utensils to the cook.
After dinner, Reynard went to sleep early. He entered his tent again, lay down upon the cloth bedding, and pulled the blanket over himself.
Before sleeping, Reynard took a pocket watch from his cloak. The shorthand pointed to the number eight or indicates the time 20:00.
"
I hope I can return home soon. Safira… wait for me."
Reynard closed his eyes, and his consciousness faded.
He dreamed of clashing metal and the sharp, nauseating stench of blood mixed with the fragrance of roses. Cold sweat soaked his forehead.
His breathing grew uneven. This time… he heard screams, sobs, wails. But the voices were not feminine, they were masculine voices begging for mercy.
“Forgive me…!” A man stammered.
“I was only following orders. Please forgive me…”
“I’ll leave this land of women.” Another man pleaded. “Spare me just once. Aarrgh—”
“Forgiveness belongs only to the victims.” A cold feminine voice replied.
“Don’t eat me. Please… I beg you… Ugh—”
“Crack… crack…” The sound of flesh, bone, and metal shattering echoed, followed by a calm, feminine voice.
“Devour them as they devoured their victims.”
Reynard writhed within the nightmare. He turned his head left, then right. His hands trembled as they clenched the blanket.
The voices felt terrifyingly real. He swallowed unconsciously as those screams of despair echoed through the night air—
Silence. The terror of those horrific sounds vanished abruptly, as if the world itself had fallen mute.
Reynard’s breathing steadied. His grip on the blanket loosened—
“Cesshh…” His forehead felt a cold sensation, like morning mist condensing in the air. The touch grew stronger, piercing.
Pain flared. His forehead split and bled. Reynard snapped his eyes open.
Before him stood the face of a girl cloaked in dark robes. Her crimson eyes blazed as if they could burn him alive.
Reynard froze in place. “Who… are you?”
“Silence, you vile oppressor!”
She drew her sword and swung it toward Reynard’s neck.
“Stop, Reema!” A feminine voice commanded.
Reema halted her blade just before it touched Reynard’s throat.
“Lady Saviour… this knight is a brutal oppressor. We must eliminate threats to the land of women.”
The woman in the rose-patterned gown stepped forward gracefully and placed a hand on Reema’s shoulder.
“I understand your unrest… Your words resemble Black Mist’s. You have learned much from my sister.”
Reynard caught the fragrance of roses as she approached. Her silver bangs swayed gently as she looked down at him.
“Your name?”
“Reynard…”
“Knight Reynard… I will grant you one chance.” Her blue eyes sharpened. “Deliver my message to the Kingdom of Rose.”
“What message is that?”
“Don't set foot in the land of women, Mist Garden,” her voice was cold. “If you dare return… I will slaughter you all!”
“Slaughter us!” Reynard swallowed hard. “Have you already slaughtered… the thousand of knights outside this tent?”
The woman in the rose gown nodded slowly.
Reynard gave a bitter smile. “So it truly was a suicide mission. I still remember them laughing just moments ago. Haha…”
The silver-haired woman fell silent for a moment, then her lip opened again.
“You don't mourn them?”
Reynard looked up at the canvas ceiling of the tent. “I don't mourn men who wish to toy with women.”
Reema frowned. “Stop pretending. Weren’t you planning to enslave our nation as well?”
Reynard exhaled deeply. “I do not deny the Kingdom’s orders. But I never agreed with them. Besides… my wife is waiting for me at home.”
Reema clenched her teeth. “Lies! Men like you speak sweetly to our faces… and act differently behind our backs—”
The woman in the rose gown raised one hand, cutting Reema off.
“Enough, Reema. Let blood be the judge." She snapped her fingers.
"Click!” A rose thorn pierced Reynard’s neck.
The woman closed her eyes briefly. Her blue eyes widened. She turned to Reema, then back to Reynard.
“This knight is not lying. He poisoned himself to prevent participating in the war.”
Reema’s crimson eyes widened as she stared at Reynard. “He… that’s impossible—”
“Knight Reynard… I will spare you. Deliver my message!”
The woman in the rose gown turned away. She paused briefly, her back still facing Reynard.
“Take good care of your wife.”
She walked away. Reema snorted, casting Reynard one last glare before following her. As the woman disappeared from sight, the fragrance of roses faded with her.
…
December 5, 1051 Years of RA
Reynard arrived at the city of Western Rose Garrison. His face was deathly pale. His hair was dishevelled. Clutching his aching, nauseous stomach, he urged his horse onward.
When he reached the city gate, no one greeted him. Knights were running through the streets in panic.
“Hurry… put out the flames!” A knight shouted.
Knights hauled water with carriages, rushing toward the eastern district.
Reynard stopped in the middle of the road and looked eastward. Thick smoke billowed into the sky, blotting out the sunlight. The smell of charcoal hit his nose.
His hands tightened the reins and spurred his horse forward at full speed through the city streets.
He halted briefly in front of a residential district. Stone houses lined the road neatly.
His teeth were grinding, remembering that the street would be filled with townsfolk—mothers holding their children’s hands, newspaper vendors shouting for customers on ordinary days.
“Brrrsshh—” But now, smoke and flames devoured every corner of the neighbourhood. Thick black smoke assaulted Reynard’s senses.
"Clop... clop..." He spurred his horse onward again, his hands trembling violently on the reins.
“Safira… hold on. I’m back—”
...
Moments later… he arrived at his stone house.
Reynard dismounted. His arms fell limp at his sides. His eyes blinked uncontrollably.
His home was burning. Flames devoured the windows, the doors, the roof—turning even stone a blazing red.
His eyes widened. “Impossible—Safira…”
“Let me go—”
Reynard turned left. A bald teenage being restrained by a knight. His hands were bound. A snake tattoo was visible on his shoulder.
“You knights destroyed my family… now taste my fury. Haha…”
“You… the Serpent Gang—" He clenched his right fist.
Her feet stomped on the red stone, charged forward and slammed the boy to the ground.
Punches struck cheeks, jaw, and temples. Reynard pummeled the delinquent relentlessly until the boy’s face was swollen and bruised.
The final blow shattered teeth from his mouth. The boy collapsed unconscious, his mouth agape, blood dripping from his lips.
“Stop, Reynard! We will judge this criminal,” a knight shouted, trying to restrain him.
Reynard covered his face with his right hand. Tears streamed through his fingers.
“Safira… my wife… I’m sorry—” He bit his lip, his chest tightening. “I… failed to keep my promise… hic… hic...”
Reynard collapsed on the spot. His vision blurred. As his awareness faded… his mind heard the last gentle voice of his wife.
“My husband come back safely—"
...
Back to the Present...
Captain Reynard opened his eyes. His vision was moist.
"Safira... my wife?!"
“Drip… drip…” Tears fell onto his horse’s back.
His eyes reflected the face of a white haired woman floating in the air.
The night breeze swept back her bangs, revealing her eyes were red like pomegranates. Her lip smiled as gentle as an affectionate face.
“Reynard… my love.”
“Safira... how... could I forget? I’m sorry… forgive me… I failed… to protect you… I even forgot you—”
Captain Reynard slowly lifted his right hand, reaching out to touch her face.
She closed her eyes, as if welcoming her beloved’s touch—
“Cesshh…” A cold sensation crept along his fingertips. His fingers passed straight through her face.
Captain Reynard withdrew his hand and pressed it against his chest. A crushing tightness pierced his heart.
“Oh… my wife—how could you… become like this?!”
He shut his eyes, biting his lip until it bled. His eyes opened again and looked upon her.
The mist-born woman smiled tenderly at him, floating gently as she caressed her belly. Her white hair fluttered softly in the night wind.
That smile had accompanied him for many years before the world chose to forget.
And now… as those memories returned, only profound sorrow remained to haunt him—an idealistic knight who failed protecting the woman he loved.
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