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~Chapter 28~
“Noxian! Where have you been all this time?!”
As Noxian returned to Argen Castle, his lieutenant ran up quickly. More time had passed since he left the sanctuary than he had realized.
“I had something to take care of. So, the underground?”
Joseph’s pale face looked like he had just vomited. He couldn’t hide his disgust as he answered.
“…You should see it yourself. It’s horrible. Those madmen actually did this…”
Did what?
A chill of dread crawled up Noxian’s gut as he strode forward quickly.
“Any survivors?”
“The soldiers are guarding them separately.”
“Take me there.”
“But… the woman you described, we still haven’t found her.”
His expression froze like wax.
Shasha.
“My lord!”
His steps grew faster, almost a run. Noxian rushed into the underground place Shasha had always returned to, a place he himself had never visited despite being held in Argen for months.
According to her, there should have been a laboratory or pharmacy here.
But as soon as the iron door opened, the stench hit him—crushing his lungs with dread.
The smell of blood and rotting flesh, of corpses and chemicals mixed together.
In a haze of unreality, he stepped inside.
Cold corridors lined with cages—more for beasts than men. Inside were dried black bloodstains, twisted corpses barely recognizable, and others still clinging to life. Could they even be called living?
Chains on the walls held only parts of what once were people.
“Uuegh…!”
Even knights, used to fighting monsters, vomited all around at the sight.
Noxian pressed on, praying not to see pale blonde hair or gray eyes, pushing himself deeper.
Sticky blood pooled in the cracks of the stone floor, clinging to his boots with every step.
Turning the corner, he felt an icy chill.
Here was a room strangely clean and orderly, unlike the horrors before. Books and tools neatly arranged, glass bottles of drugs and powders, stacks of documents. A strong medicinal smell lingered—like the one Shasha always carried.
What had she done here?
His instincts screamed louder and louder, his heart pounding. His chest tightened, like unseen hands were choking him.
Joseph gathered surviving documents.
“It looks like they tried to destroy the evidence when they realized we were attacked.”
Noxian flipped through the half-burned and torn records.
Experiment logs. Research reports. Disposal ledgers…
And the same words repeated:
Immortality. Undying. Eternity.
“…Ha.”
A bitter laugh slipped out.
Noxian Rubellot had never once considered himself a just or moral man.
Even so, the sight of meticulous records documenting atrocities was suffocating. It felt unreal.
The scent of blood seemed to rise off the inked pages, each line recording countless deaths.
For this? To build a castle of slaughter and call it immortality?
A torn scrap fell from the disposal ledger. Joseph picked it up, his pale face stiffening in horror.
“My lord, these… they’re all names. Could ‘disposal’ mean…”
Noxian said nothing. He set the ledger down and looked around again.
Shasha.
‘What kind of hell did you live in?’
He had known she was treated badly—Blanche Argen had handled her without mercy from the very beginning.
But this… this was beyond anything.
Dizziness struck him.
Who are you, really?
[I’m fine. I’m useful, after all.]
What did “useful” mean?
The answer was all around him. Everything he thought he knew crumbled.
[I don’t want my medicine to kill people.]
[I’ll get scolded a little, but it’s fine. I even smuggled out some other failures—other people.]
How much of that had been truth? How much a lie?
In this hell humans built for humans, what had she done—or endured?
Expressionless, she had sent him away and returned to this place…
“…Everyone. You will never speak of what you saw here today.”
Noxian gave the order quietly.
The knights, speechless at the horror, silently obeyed.
He didn’t know what face he wore, nor that his hands trembled. Only one fierce conviction filled his head:
This research must never be known. This place must never exist again.
“Burn it all. Nothing leaves this castle.”
“My lord… you mean…”
Joseph realized what he meant and froze. But when he met Noxian’s eyes, he couldn’t say more.
It was the first time he had seen such an expression from his lord.
“Protect the survivors. As for the Argen family…”
Noxian clenched his teeth hard enough to grind.
“Execute them all. Leave their corpses hanging until vultures eat them clean. Until maggots rot them. Kill every last one with Argen blood.”
Immortality?
Try to live again. I’ll kill you as many times as it takes.
One death was not enough to pay for these sins.
Finally, he forced out one more command through his tight throat:
“And find Shasha.”
There was no body—she had to be alive. She was clever, she must have fled in advance. If so, good.
“Search the entire kingdom if you must. Find her, bring her to me.”
I’ll see the truth with my own eyes. Whether she committed these acts, or suffered them. Whether she ran from me out of fear or lied from the start.
Whatever the truth, I’ll hear it.
“Bring her alive. No matter what.”
Please. Just live.
Rubellot dungeon.
Noxian’s cold voice rang in Eden’s ears, making him tremble.
“Unfortunately, what you seek no longer exists. It was burned with the Argen family.”
“N-no… liar! You’re lying! You just want to keep immortality for yourselves…!”
Noxian sneered at Eden’s desperate denial.
“If immortality were real, the Argens would have revived themselves. I saw their heads and bodies rot separately with my own eyes. You failed, Evans.”
Eden shook violently, panting.
Immortality. Eternal life. The thing anyone would give anything for—he was saying it was all burned?
“You’re insane… insane! Do you even know what you did?! Twelve years! Twelve years of research—gone, wasted, by someone who doesn’t even understand its worth!”
“Then let me ask you something.”
Noxian’s boot pressed harder on Eden’s throat. He forced tea down Eden’s mouth again. A scream echoed through the dungeon.
“One. Three years ago, why exactly did Argen need me? How was it connected to that research?”
He remembered Blanche Argen trying to uncover his authority. Was it really just to target a rival family’s weakness?
If Shasha hadn’t helped him… if he had been fully handed over to them…
The thought alone was chilling.
Coughing blood, Eden shouted desperately before the next cup could be poured.
“I-I don’t know! I didn’t even know they had captured Rubellot’s heir! That was all Blanche and Mathias—”
“Tch. Then your next answer had better be useful.”
The suffocating pressure of Noxian’s voice dug into his ears.
“…Two. There was a woman there. Shasha. Short pale blonde hair, gray eyes, a mute apothecary.”
Shasha?
At that sudden name, Eden’s eyes blinked blankly.
