FMLDM 45

Chapter 45

The Monster Attack Incident

Standing in front of the shop, Macaron’s eyes grew wide.
There were just too many kinds of ice cream.

But then he quickly recalled that Coral’s favorites were chocolate and strawberry, and placed his order. With a rich chocolate ice cream and a refreshing strawberry-colored one in hand, a satisfied smile spread across Macaron’s lips.

Immersed in happy thoughts, Macaron turned—and spotted Calyps smiling at him.
At that moment, a masked figure approached Calyps.

At first, Macaron frowned, thinking it might be Shubil, and quickened his pace.
But no—the mask, the clothes, the build… it definitely wasn’t Shubil.

Then Macaron noticed something strange.

“No shadow…?”

Fixing his gaze on the suspicious figure, Macaron hurried toward Calyps. Sweat trickled down his pale face, and his eyes pleaded as he looked at her. But the masked man was faster.

“…No!”

Sensing something, Calyps quickly pulled Kai and Coral into her arms.
But it was already too late.

Behind Calyps, the being revealed its true form, unsheathing sharp claws.

“Aaaargh!”

With a scream, Calyps collapsed.
As the monsters shed their human disguises, the festival instantly descended into chaos. The music filling the streets was replaced with shrieks of terror. People scattered in every direction.

The knights and Einte surrounded the area, and Macaron rushed to lift Calyps in his arms.

“Calypso? Calypso!”

Dark crimson blood soaked through her dress as she groaned. Holding her tightly, Macaron swung his sword mercilessly with his free hand.

Momont quickly gathered Kai and Coral and brought them onto the carriage, with Macaron following close behind. The carriage sped away from the scene toward the estate.

Inside, Macaron tore his clothes to bandage Calyps’s wound. She lost consciousness on the way and did not wake. Blood poured without end, staining the cloth bright red.

Watching this, Macaron’s heart sank in despair.
Every moment felt like an eternity until the carriage finally reached the estate.

While Macaron laid Calyps on the bed, the household bustled frantically. Soon, Momont rushed in.

“I brought a doctor.”

“No need. Send him away.”

“…What? But—”

By then, Kai was already by Calyps’s side, channeling white energy, though Momont couldn’t see it. He never could have imagined Kai possessed such an ability. Seeing Macaron’s expression, Momont bowed his head and withdrew.

Coral, eyes brimming with tears, watched as Kai quietly clasped Calyps’s hand. His face, usually full of mischievous childlike expressions, was grave and determined.

“Can she survive?”

If Kai could not heal the wound, no one in the Empire could. Macaron, too, was skilled in magic and alchemy, but Kai’s innate Halatis healing ability was his alone.

Yet, no matter how many times Kai examined her insides with healing light, his expression only grew darker.

Macaron could only stare blankly, his insides burning. At last, after what felt like forever, Kai finally spoke.

“…A high-level monster.”

Macaron clenched his fist but forced himself to stay calm. Losing control would do nothing to help Calyps. Yet his large hands trembled despite his will. He hid them behind his back, swallowing the pounding in his chest.

“Fortunately, it missed her heart.”

At this, Coral’s tear-stained face lifted with hope.

“Then… Mom will live?”

“Of course. I’ll make sure she does.”

But Macaron noticed Kai’s hands trembling faintly. Even he could not promise survival.

In the Creid territory, the cycle of night and day repeated endlessly.
Macaron remained by the unconscious Calyps, his eyes swollen and red. Food was brought in daily, but for days now he had not touched a single bite. How could he eat when his wife lay unmoving?

He glared at her closed eyes, his voice a silent whisper.

“When will you wake, my wife? Must I die for you to open your eyes?”

His anger turned inward.

“If only I had noticed the barrier breaking… If I had strengthened the wards for the masquerade just a bit more…”

“No—if I had never held the festival in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

As nights of regret piled up, Macaron grew thinner by the day. That regret transformed into rage aimed at an unknown enemy.

“This time, it had better not be you, brother.”

His throat bulged with veins as he clenched his fists. Whoever was behind this, he vowed, would not be forgiven.

Meanwhile, in Liner Creid’s chamber, someone burst in.
The sound made Liner’s hand freeze mid-motion as he polished his sword.

The man immediately dropped to his knees, trembling.

“…”

“I told you—I hate having my time wasted.”

Liner’s low voice carried a killing intent.
Shuddering, the man forced himself to speak.

“Your Highness, the mission… failed. Pagan was captured. The rest… were annihilated.”

As Liner stepped closer, the man shook even harder.

“Give me one more chance—ugh!”

In an instant, Liner’s blade severed his neck. Blood splattered across Liner’s face, but his expression remained cold, indifferent. Only his fingers betrayed his rage.

“Those who can’t earn their keep must pay with their lives.”

He calmly wiped the blood from his face and blade, his movements far too casual for someone who had just killed.

From the shadows, another figure emerged to clear away the corpse.

“…Pagan was captured?” Liner muttered.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” the shadow answered, trembling.

A sharp crack rang out—Liner had twisted the shadow’s face with his hand.
As if used to such treatment, the shadow restored his posture and listened.

“You said you had someone planted inside the Creid estate?”

“Yes.”

“Then during the Crown Prince Selection, I must not see that man appear.”

“It will be done.”

The shadow vanished after bowing.
Liner picked up his sword again, a sinister smile spreading across his face.

Though the monsters were swiftly recognized and subdued, the damage could not be undone.
Twenty citizens of the territory were dead.
And Calyps was gravely injured.

Even after funerals and rites were completed without flaw, Macaron’s fury burned. Night after night, he stayed by her side in the eastern annex.

Feeling the faint warmth of her hand was his only relief. But her eyes remained closed. His face was pale from sleepless nights.

Kai had already exhausted his healing powers. Now, only prayer remained.

Three days passed, and despair gnawed at Macaron’s heart. Then—a faint twitch brushed against his hand.

“My wife? My wife!”

Responding to his voice, Calyps’s eyes fluttered open.

“…!”

“Call Kai—no, a doctor, now!”

Though she insisted she was fine, Macaron panicked and summoned doctors repeatedly. His hollowed face showed how deeply shaken he had been. Coral clung to her mother, crying, while Kai’s eyes reddened though he held back tears.

Time passed, and Calyps recovered enough to walk outside alone, her daily life no longer hindered. But Macaron never stopped hovering, scolding her to rest and shadowing her constantly.

All schedules were delayed, yet he didn’t care. Even Sir Momont reported matters in hushed tones, afraid to disturb him.

One day, just as Macaron tried persuading Calyps to stay in bed longer, Sir Einte entered.

“What is it?”

He hesitated, then said, “Today… you must meet Pagan.”

At the darkened look on Macaron’s face, Calyps realized who that was.
The very one who had harmed her.
She remembered, in that fleeting moment before she fell, what she saw—it was no human.

“…It will be dangerous. Please be careful.”

Macaron only smiled faintly, pretending it was nothing. But his back, as he walked away, radiated menace—as if violence could erupt at any moment.

On the way to the prison, Einte reported,

“The drugs have been administered. His power has been nearly stripped, and the prison is secured with strong wards.”

At the heavy doors, Macaron raised a hand, stopping Einte. Despite his protests, Macaron entered alone.

Inside, a monstrous figure hung upside down. Rage welled in Macaron’s chest, barely restrained.

“Who sent you?”

The massive, muscular form radiated a terrifying aura.

“Cut the crap and kill me already,” Pagan spat.

Even drugged, he tried to infiltrate Macaron’s mind with his psychic powers. But the wards were absolute—he failed. Realizing his state, Pagan thrashed in fury.

“Coward. Drugging me like this.”

“I’m holding back from killing you—so I can make it as painful as possible.”

Macaron smiled, but the madness behind it made Pagan flinch. His crimson eyes locked onto the monster’s.

Sensing his intent, Pagan convulsed. But the moment their psychic connection formed, Pagan fainted.

The strength of a psychic monster lay in reading others’ memories. But that was also its weakness—it left their own minds vulnerable.

As Pagan collapsed, his memories poured into Macaron’s head.
Among them loomed the vast schemes of his brother, Liner Creid.

“Give up? Who am I to give up? That coward.”

“He’ll always stand in my way. I’ll tear him apart first. And then…”

Visions of a blood-soaked territory.
Macaron and his family on the guillotine.
Their corpses displayed at the highest tower of the Imperial Palace…

Nausea and horror flooded Macaron’s mind. The cross-magic forced by the drugs would not end until the process was complete—a nightmare he could not escape.

At last it ended. Staggering, Macaron dragged himself up the stairs. Facing such truths made him feel filthier than ever.

“All these years, I kept my claws sheathed and withdrew from power to protect my people. But that was my mistake.”

The monster before him—Pagan—was the very beast that had wounded him on the battlefield years ago. He had only failed to recognize it because it had taken another form.

All of it had been orchestrated by one man.

Macaron’s crimson eyes gleamed like blades cutting the void.

“Brother, now you too will pay the price you deserve.”