The coolness and dampness of the forest had already begun to permeate the air, but Roy pressed deeper into the trees, carefully examining every centimeter of the woodland scene.
*Where are you?*
He had wandered through the forest for hours—all in vain.
The first to realize Juliet had vanished was Theo Lebatan. He had also been the one to raise chaos in the temple while searching for her.
Everything was exactly as Theo had claimed. Juliet had truly disappeared without a trace.
Roy wiped the sweat dripping from his chin with the back of his hand.
Though he had searched the forest surrounding Lucerne—not to mention every corner of the Terrarium—he had found nothing.
*Juliet...*
It had been far too long since he'd last seen her. A powerful thirst was beginning to build within him.
But this wasn't ordinary thirst.
It was unique—the kind that could only be calmed by the scent of an imprinted partner. Moreover, the anxiety he was desperately trying to suppress made it increasingly difficult to maintain control.
*If this continues, my condition...*
Roy bit his lip painfully, trying to push away the oppressive thoughts.
It happened then.
A woman emerged from behind a tree—like a forest nymph stepping from a dream—and asked:
"What are you doing here?"
"Juliet...?"
"Yes, it's me. So what are you doing here?"
"Juliet..."
At the sight of her, such overwhelming relief flooded through Roy that his knees nearly buckled.
He walked unsteadily toward her. The moment he drew close, he reached out and pulled her into a tender embrace.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been searching? Where have you been all this time..."
"Were you worried?"
"Of course! How could I not—"
"I'm sorry to have caused you concern, Sir Romeo."
"......"
"Sir Romeo?"
Roy froze.
Meanwhile, Juliet raised her head and gazed at his face with an innocent expression.
"Is something wrong, Sir Romeo?"
Suddenly Roy's arms fell limp at his sides. He stepped back from her.
"Juliet never called me Romeo."
He didn't know why, but she had always insisted on calling him Roy.
In turn, Roy had never cared what name she used—as long as she remained beside him.
Moreover, the woman standing before him didn't carry anything resembling Juliet's unique scent. He hadn't noticed at first, overwhelmed by joy at seeing her. But now he was absolutely certain.
"What do you mean by that, Sir Romeo?"
"Who are you?"
The instant Roy posed the question, the silence of the forest was pierced by an eerie grinding sound...
And the next moment, Juliet's neck bent at an unnatural angle.
"...Have I been exposed?"
At the same instant a sinister grin spread across the doll's face—the one that looked exactly like Juliet—a blade sprang from her hand.
*Whoosh!*
"......!"
The blade in the doll's hand arced upward in a swift swing, slicing through the air with a screech.
Roy dodged quickly—but the doll possessed two arms.
Consequently, two blades rushed toward him.
He attempted to evade the second strike as well, pivoting sharply. But he sensed he was too late and braced himself to minimize damage.
*Damn it!*
It happened then.
*Whoosh!*
Before the blade could reach Roy, a sword erupted from somewhere behind the doll's back and cleaved through her body as easily as a knife through butter.
"...?!"
"You seem out of shape. But alright—I'll help you out this once."
Roy looked up toward the mocking voice and found Lennox regarding him with supreme indifference, head tilted slightly to one side.
"You think they all look the same? How could you fail to recognize your own woman?"
Lennox spoke slowly while flicking the viscous liquid from his blade with a movement so swift an ordinary person wouldn't have noticed.
When he'd struck the doll, his sword had been stained not with red blood but with a strange, black, sticky substance.
However complex and sophisticated the mechanism, all it could do was pretend to be a real person. It could never truly become one.
Now, instead of blood, black liquid pooled from the fallen doll lying on the grass.
After Lennox sheathed his sword, he regarded Roy with exaggerated surprise—as though the realization had only just struck him.
"Ah, yes. She wasn't yours to begin with. This woman is mine. She always will be." His voice dripped with mockery. "Forgive me, pup—but that's reality."
"Ah-ha...!"
Roy tried to laugh at his words, but it was useless. He knew Lennox was right.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke:
"How about calling a truce?"
"Truce?"
"Yeah. Let's shake hands as a sign of truce." Roy shrugged casually.
"In case you haven't noticed, I can't do that." Lennox's tone had turned serious—no longer mocking. "I'm holding a cub."
"Q!"
"What...?"
Instead of explaining, Lennox thrust Onyx—whom he'd been carrying—directly into Roy's arms. Then, without another word, he strode toward the forest's edge.
Roy stood momentarily stunned. When he recovered, he shouted after the retreating figure:
"Hey! What exactly am I supposed to do with this devil's spawn?!"
"Q!?"
*Thwap-thwap-thwap!*
Onyx, abandoned with Roy, bristled with indignation at being called a "devil's spawn." He lashed out with his tail, striking his insulter repeatedly.
---
## — The Seventh Day —
On the final day of the festival, a ritual was held—conducted directly by the bishop himself.
The essence of this ceremony was for the bishop to call upon the Goddess Efreet, beseeching her to grant protection and grace to the people for an entire year. A brilliant light descending from the sky would signal that the Goddess had answered this call.
This ritual—in which the Goddess's blissful radiance enveloped the city—was considered the culmination of the Lucerne festival.
It was performed annually at the holiday's conclusion, demonstrating to the populace that the Goddess watched over them and would forever shield them from evil forces.
Originally, magical power had been believed to originate from evil spirits, while divine power flowed from the Goddess Efreet.
Therefore, priests believed wizards served evil spirits, just as they themselves served the Goddess. This was, of course, entirely incorrect.
Nevertheless, the priests took great pride in being fundamentally different from the wizards they so despised.
"Where is His Holiness?"
And so it continued—until genuine panic erupted at the Terrarium. Due to unforeseen circumstances on the eve of the festival's final stage, their inflated pride began rapidly deflating.
Priests ran feverishly throughout the building, searching for the bishop.
"You haven't found him yet?!"
The ceremony was imminent when Bishop Sebastian suddenly vanished.
Meanwhile, Father Solon—the bishop's first assistant—was beside himself with fury. Shaking his fists, he bellowed at the junior priests.
"You idiots! If you don't find His Holiness, you'll all be thrown in prison!"
However, even if they had searched the Terrarium and all of Lucerne with absolute thoroughness, they never would have discovered Sebastian's location.
*Surprise.*
*Why the hell is he so calm in this situation?*
Father Solon glanced back at the man leisurely sipping tea and fixed him with bloodshot eyes. The sight only enraged him further.
"Father Gilliam! Doesn't this concern you at all? How can you simply drink tea at a time like this? His Holiness vanished without a trace hours ago, and we still have no idea where he is!"
Father Gilliam shrugged mildly.
"I don't even know if I should dignify that with a response. Of course I'm just as worried as you are. But in the bishop's absence, doesn't the responsibility for performing the ritual fall to the first assistant?"
"...Father Gilliam!"
"Moreover, not only the bishop has disappeared—but one other person as well."
"What are you getting at?"
"Don't pretend you don't understand."
Father Gilliam regarded him meaningfully.
"A girl—Lionel Lebatan's granddaughter—has gone missing."
"......"
At this remark, Father Solon fell abruptly silent.
"What happened, Father Solon? Why so quiet? Don't we both comprehend the significance of what we witnessed with our own eyes?"
Father Gilliam was referencing what had occurred after he delivered the statue of the saint from the village of Kanavel.
"When Bishop Sebastian first beheld the statue of the Sorrowful Saint, he wept."
And what proved even more remarkable—shortly afterward, a woman bearing the exact same face as the saint appeared in the temple.
Juliet Montague. Currently missing.
"Don't you find it suspicious, Father Solon? This doesn't remotely resemble simple coincidence."
*Tap. Tap. Tap.*
Gilliam drummed his finger against the table.
"A few hours after the girl vanished, His Holiness also disappeared. Consider carefully what that might mean."
"Shut up! I understand perfectly well without your commentary!"
Suddenly Father Solon—who had maintained stubborn silence—screamed and leaped from his seat.
"Oh? So you grasp my meaning?"
"Yes! Of course I do!" Father Solon shouted again. "Now listen carefully, everyone! From this moment forward, we're searching for the *criminal* who kidnapped our bishop!"
"W-what?" Gilliam sputtered, stunned—but Father Solon, ignoring him entirely, continued.
"The criminal's name is Juliet Montague! The only granddaughter of the notorious criminal Lionel Lebatan! Find this wretch! Immediately!"
"Hey—what are you saying? Father Solon, wait! Have you lost your mind?!" Gilliam shouted in frustration, also springing to his feet. "A girl whose whereabouts are unknown is clearly a *victim*! Besides, what we witnessed near that statue proves it!"
But Father Solon clamped both hands over his ears and began screaming.
"Shut up! I don't know anything—period! Do you truly wish to disgrace our bishop by branding him a kidnapper? You must be insane! If we do that, we'll *all* be disgraced!"
After bellowing this, Solon began issuing orders to the remaining priests.
"Find that wretch immediately! She kidnapped His Holiness—!"
"Are you genuinely mad, Father Solon? If so, we need to address this immediately—!"
"Let go of me! We must locate this criminal first!"
The moment had finally arrived when the two holy fathers—long at odds—clashed openly with one another.
*BOOM-BOOM!*
"......?"
A thunderous noise made both priests freeze mid-argument.
*BOOM-BOOM!*
"Um... what is that sound?"
*BOOM!*
The repeating percussion grew louder and louder.
"Wait—that sound..."
*CRASH!*
With a final devastating blow, the tightly sealed doors of the temple burst open with an explosive crack.
The noise they'd been hearing was caused by someone forcing entry into the chamber.
And this someone had opened the door by sheer, brutal force...
"I was told there are people here who kidnapped my granddaughter."
*Tap-tap-tap.*
Though the red-haired old man—dressed in pristine white robes—limped on one leg, his presence radiated menace as he surveyed the room with a terrifying gaze.
"You bastards. Was this *your* doing?"
It was none other than Lionel Lebatan.
The Red King.