Gray clouds loomed over the Ravensword estate as Charles and Vespera arrived at the scene. Without a word, without even a gesture of comfort, Charles simply stood at the doorstep of the house. There, Hugo knelt on the ground, shivering between sobs, his body hunched over a pool of blood that hadn't yet dried between the cracks of the stone floor.
Charles said nothing. He walked past his grieving friend, past the bloody footprints that no one had dared to clean.
His steps were slow, heavy, but certain as he made his way to the living room. There—the bodies lay covered in white cloths. Only the smell of iron and death lingered, piercing down to the bone. Charles knelt beside the corpses of Lord and Lady Ravensword and gently lifted one of the cloths. His hands didn't tremble, not even slightly.
His eyes locked onto the gaping wound in the chest.
"…Clean cuts. Silent. No signs of struggle," he murmured.
He glanced toward the body of a servant lying nearby, with a similar wound. Then another. And another.
"These slashes…" Charles narrowed his eyes. "…they're just like the ones on Lily."
Vespera stood behind him, silent, like a dark shadow that never left his side.
Charles rose slowly and stepped toward the old fireplace, now cold. On the ground—something small had fallen.
A pin.
Charles picked it up and studied it closely. A white mask was etched into the surface, emotionless, with a single black line running down the middle of its face.
"…This emblem," Charles whispered.
Vespera stepped closer, but said nothing.
Charles clenched his fist, gripping the pin tightly.
"This… it's the same as the man with the strange sword."
His voice was calm, but the tone cut like a blade. His gaze pierced through the room.
"This is a noble's emblem."
"…We'll hunt them down."
Vespera bowed slightly, half-smiling. "What are your orders, my Lord?"
Charles turned to her. Those crimson eyes gleamed with a cold fire that no longer needed fuel.
"Go. Investigate this symbol. Whoever owns it—now or in the past—I want to know."
"As you command, my Lord." Vespera bowed deeply, but behind her loyal expression, her eyes glimmered with glee.
At last, she thought. The darkness in your heart has returned, Charles. This is who you truly are.
---
At the Ravensword family cemetery, London's sky wept with a fine drizzle.
Charles stood beside the freshly-dug graves. Smoke curled from the cigarette between his fingers, blending into the fog that hung among the tombstones.
Hugo stood beside him, silent. His eyes were swollen, his breathing ragged.
"…Hugo," Charles said quietly. "Does your heart hurt?"
Hugo turned, his gaze hollow. "Are you seriously asking me that, Charles?"
Charles looked back at the grave. "Of course."
"My parents are dead, Charles!" Hugo snapped. "Murdered. In my own home. Brutally. And you ask if it hurts!?" He grabbed Charles by the collar, shaking him.
"What did I ever do to deserve this!? I'm not a killer like you! I've never hurt anyone!!"
Charles stared into Hugo's eyes in silence. His hands remained still, only the cigarette between his lips continued to burn.
That sentence cut deeper than any blade ever could. But Charles didn't defend himself. He didn't deny it. He didn't flinch.
Perhaps… this was the price of his sins.
Charles gently lowered Hugo's hand.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, then turned away. He exhaled slowly and let the cigarette fall—crushing it beneath his heel.
"Just hold on, Hugo… I'll do something about this."
---
That evening, Vespera returned with light steps, though her face remained as unreadable as ever.
Charles was waiting in the study.
"Well?" he asked without turning to face her.
Vespera replied calmly, "No such emblem is registered to any noble family. Neither in the present… nor in the past."
Charles turned. "Are you certain?"
"I am. I checked royal archives, old crest records, even banned noble symbols. Nothing."
"Impossible."
"That's the truth, my Lord."
Charles closed his eyes, trying to connect the threads he had gathered. But it was all a blur. Too many things defied logic. Too many missing pieces.
---
The next day.
Charles and Hugo sat in the back garden of the Milverton estate, among the old trees and the white lilies Lily had planted before her death. Charles smoked again, his thin fingers holding the cigarette like a lifeline burning slowly to ash.
"Hugo…" he said.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry… but I found this in your mansion."
Charles revealed the pin with the mask emblem.
"I believe… Lord Ravensword resisted. And he managed to take this as a clue before he died."
Hugo took the pin with trembling hands. His eyes widened.
"This… No. This can't be…"
"You recognize it?"
"I heard of it… a long time ago. An organization with this symbol. Mysterious. Said to operate in the shadows of the nobility."
Charles stared at Hugo. "Go on."
"They call themselves… The Falacy. An organization of assassins. Bandits. Spies. But the most terrifying thing is…"
"…What?"
"They don't work for money. They… carry out the will of someone unknown. But no one knows who leads them. And they all wear masks."
Charles clenched his teeth.
A name emerged in his mind.
A dot in the darkness.
The Falacy.
"Then," Charles stood, flicking his last cigarette away, "we have a new target."