Kanna was asked about the punishment for Donau—her tormentor. In a normal world, she would have gone to the police, filed a report, and let the justice system handle the rest. But here, in this strange dimension, things worked differently. Besides, Evangeline was an aristocrat; perhaps she had the right to administer justice herself.
"Maybe we should lock him in the dungeon forever?" Evangeline suggested, her tone almost casual.
Kanna and Hena both turned to look at her. Evangeline seemed perfectly willing to condemn Donau to bread and water for the rest of his miserable days, if that was what they wished.
But Kanna shook her head.
_Did she really think this punishment was too harsh? Or was she simply an angel incarnate?_ No wonder she and Hena were close. *Silly girl, you should take better care of yourself!* Evangeline thought, though she kept her expression neutral.
"How is your neck?"
Only now did Evangeline notice how deep the wound truly was. A thin red line, delicate as a crimson thread, traced across Kanna's pale skin.
_I wonder if there's any holy elixir left at home? Perhaps it could help prevent scarring. Battle wounds are honorable, but no one needs a permanent reminder of a kidnapping._
"Good!" Kanna replied, her voice bright with undisguised delight.
Evangeline blinked, momentarily taken aback. _An overreaction, wasn't it?_ But then understanding dawned.
_Of course. She was kidnapped, and then the infamous villain swooped in to save her—and is now showing genuine concern for her well-being. Kanna is also a servant at the Rohanson estate. If some of the staff faint at the mere sight of me, this level of kindness must seem extraordinary._
"Ah—!"
Suddenly, Hena turned deathly pale, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Her gaze was fixed on something behind Evangeline.
_Don't tell me it's because of me?_ Evangeline's stomach dropped. _No—wait. Damn it, Donau!_
_I took the knife from him, didn't I?_
She whirled around, expecting to see Donau lunging at her with a blade. Instead, she witnessed something entirely unexpected.
He had stabbed *himself*.
"Did you see that?"
"Yes." Kanna's voice was steady, almost eerily calm. "He did it to himself."
Donau had committed suicide. The knife—the only weapon he'd possessed—was now buried in his own throat. Not his wrist. His *neck*. Had he truly been that desperate to escape punishment?
_Criminals always try to avoid consequences by choosing death! Even in another world, nothing changes._
"I'm sorry," Evangeline said quietly. "He's dead."
She had so wanted to teach him a proper lesson in justice...
"It's okay." Kanna's eyes shone with something that looked almost like peace. Her radiant smile suggested she had already left this nightmare behind. "That's enough for me."
_How generous she is..._
"Thank you for saving me," Kanna added politely, dipping her head.
_Wait—not just polite..._
Evangeline frowned. Something was wrong. The room seemed too bright, the shadows too sharp.
"It's a bit too light in here, don't you think?"
"Oh my God—*fire!*"
Flames blazed behind Donau's crumpled body, their orange glow illuminating everything. No wonder she had been able to see so clearly in a room with boarded windows and no lamps!
The fire's dancing light revealed the summoning circle drawn in the center of the floor—the one painted in what she now realized was dried blood.
_Could this be... could this be what he stole from me?_
Then the fire itself... Donau must have successfully summoned something. A fire spirit, perhaps?
_So it **was** a spirit-summoning circle! Damn it... How did he manage it? He could have at least left notes, or explained the process before dying! The shameless criminal!_
Evangeline hurried Hena and Kanna toward the exit. Fortunately, the door had already been destroyed—her dramatic entrance had accomplished *something* useful—and the smoke was escaping through the opening, allowing them to breathe.
_This bastard also set a fire as his final act! If there were subtitles, it would definitely read: **+ARSON**. Theft, kidnapping, arson—a real hat trick of villainy!_
Mercifully, the neighboring houses appeared to be constructed from some kind of fireproof material, and the flames didn't spread beyond Donau's hovel.
_Quality craftsmanship. We should import this building technique to my world._
The burning house made for a breathtaking spectacle—orange and gold against the darkening sky, sparks spiraling upward like desperate prayers.
Evangeline nearly burst into tears.
_My summoning circle... It probably burned to ash along with everything else._
---
## — Kanna's World —
Rusty walls and a musty smell. Cold soup and a narrow, hard bed. A tiny window no larger than two palms pressed together.
This was the entirety of Kanna's world.
She had been born weak and sickly. The birth was difficult—catastrophic, really—and her mother had died bringing her into existence. But even that ultimate sacrifice couldn't grant Kanna health. The girl was constantly ill, perpetually teetering on the brink of death.
Her father, working himself to exhaustion trying to earn money for her treatments, eventually collapsed and never rose again. Now the burden had fallen to Hena, her older sister.
Kanna carried the weight of that guilt like stones sewn into her chest. She had consumed the lives of two people she loved, yet she still hadn't recovered. All she could do was lie in bed, useless, while her sister sacrificed everything.
Some days, even breathing felt like an impossible task. Moving a finger required monumental effort. Hena had hired a nurse, working brutal overtime shifts to afford the woman's services. Kanna watched her sister grow thinner, watched the shadows deepen beneath her eyes, and feared that Hena would soon collapse just as their father had.
But there was nothing she could do. Perhaps she should have told her sister the truth—that there was no hope, that she should stop wasting her life on a lost cause. But Kanna wanted to live. Despite everything, despite the guilt and the pain and the endless gray days, she clung to this miserable existence with desperate fingers.
Her sister called it hope.
"Kanna, do you see the people outside the window?" Hena had said one evening, her voice soft but fierce. "I believe that one day, you'll be able to walk among them. I'll do everything in my power to make that happen. So let's not lose hope. Not ever."
From that moment, the small window became sacred to Kanna.
In her monotonous life, the only thing that changed was the view through that tiny frame: the golden bloom of sunrise, the graceful flight of birds, children laughing and playing in the street, the melancholy beauty of sunset, workers returning home for dinner, the quiet descent of night.
Kanna imagined herself as part of that world. In her mind, she played with the children, worked alongside the adults, and walked home with them as evening fell.
And then, one day, a new character appeared in her window.
"You've come again?"
A ginger cat had begun visiting during his daily wanderings. He would leap onto the windowsill, regard her with knowing amber eyes, and then stroll away with the casual confidence of all cats everywhere.
_When I can walk, I'll feed this cat._ Kanna made the promise to herself. _He has a collar, so he must have an owner. I suppose I can only offer treats?_
The cat became part of her future. Part of her dream.
---
"Kanna! *Kanna!*"
And then—a miracle.
"How are you? Does it still hurt?"
"I..." The voice that emerged was hoarse, the words struggling to form. "I'm fine."
Hena burst into tears and pulled her into a fierce embrace. Kanna felt her sister's tears soaking into her shoulder, warm and wet, but she said nothing. She simply held Hena back, her thin arms trembling with the effort.
Her sister had found better-paying work at Count Rohanson's estate. There, she had told the new lady of the house—Evangeline Rohanson—about Kanna's condition. And Evangeline had given them the holy elixir.
An ordinary person would have to work half a lifetime to afford even a single bottle of that precious liquid. Kanna understood now where the hope Hena spoke of truly resided. What someone like Evangeline could give away without a second thought had cost Kanna's father his life and her sister years of grueling labor.
All for *one bottle*.
A spark of anger flared in Kanna's chest—hot and unfamiliar.
"God bless her. God bless."
But hearing the joy in her sister's voice, feeling the way Hena's body shook with relieved sobs, Kanna's resentment faded. If the person who had sacrificed everything for her could be this happy, what right did Kanna have to be angry?
---
Recovery came gradually.
Kanna began to move—first her fingers, then her arms, then her legs. Her appetite returned with a vengeance. She gained weight, her cheeks filling out, color returning to her skin. It felt strange and disorienting, this sudden fulfillment of a hope she had nearly abandoned. But slowly, carefully, she adjusted to her new life.
And she decided to fulfill her long-held dream.
Kanna left the house.
At first, she only walked around the neighborhood, sat on the front porch, watched the world go by. She was unsociable—the words she wanted to say always seemed to stick in her throat—and she couldn't bring herself to speak to the children or exchange greetings with the neighbors.
But basking in the warm sunlight, listening to their cheerful chatter, she felt like part of this world at last. Part of what she had previously only observed "from outside the window."
_I wonder why that cat doesn't visit anymore?_
She asked Hena to buy some cat treats. She carried them with her always, tucked in her pocket, but she never spotted her ginger friend. Perhaps he had changed his route? Or—heaven forbid—something had happened to him?
The worry gnawed at her, but she tried to focus on enjoying her walks. The autumn air was crisp, the sky impossibly blue.
One evening, as the temperature began to drop, Kanna glanced at the lengthening shadows. _Sister will be home late tonight. Time to go inside._
She rose from her seat on the porch—and caught a flash of red fur disappearing down a nearby alley.
_The cat?_
Kanna remembered Hena's strict orders not to wander around after dark. But it was still daylight. Barely.
_I'll just take a quick look and come right back. Sister won't have to worry._
She walked into the alley.
And then a man appeared.
---
When Kanna woke, she was in an unfamiliar room.
Her mouth was gagged with rough cloth. Her hands and feet were bound with coarse rope that bit into her skin. How long had she been unconscious? The space around her was swallowed by darkness.
Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she was able to take in her surroundings.
She wasn't alone.
A man sat hunched in the corner, engrossed in reading a scroll by the light of a single guttering candle. He must have been her attacker. Kanna tried to struggle free, but her body—still weakened from years of illness—refused to cooperate.
"Oh, you're awake?" The man glanced up, irritation flickering across his gaunt features. "Could you please stop disturbing me while I read?"
He rose and approached her. A nauseating smell enveloped Kanna as he drew near—something thick and metallic that coated the back of her throat.
She recognized it instantly.
She had coughed up blood so many times during her illness that she could identify the scent anywhere. But she had no wounds besides the rope burns. The smell was coming from *him*.
"Sit quietly until nightfall," he ordered, his gaze drifting toward the wall.
Kanna twisted with difficulty and looked in the same direction.
It wasn't a wall.
It was a window. *Boarded up*.
Her head began to spin, panic clawing at her chest.
The boarded window terrified her more than the kidnapping itself. For Kanna, a window had always been a symbol of hope—her connection to the outside world, to the future she dreamed of living. And here, in this room, there was no hope at all.
Despite the man's command, Kanna began to struggle desperately.
She screamed for her sister, her muffled cries tearing at her throat. She begged for help, for anyone to hear her. The man ignored her completely, absorbed in his reading.
She pleaded with him to remove the boards, to show her the sky, insisted it was still early. What time did her sister usually come home? She would worry if Kanna wasn't there—
But nothing worked.
Kanna was helpless. She felt like a bedridden patient again, trapped and useless, waiting for someone to save her.
Her desperate pleas gradually transformed into curses.
Finally, the sun set beyond the boarded window, and the night the man had been waiting for arrived. He lit more candles, their flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. Then he took up his knife.
"Die, die, *die*," Kanna whispered, barely aware of what she was saying. The words spilled from her like poison.
As if dancing to the rhythm of her curses, the man began to move—a strange, graceful waltz around the room. Kanna watched him with unblinking eyes, her gaze fixed and burning.
When the dance ended, the man crouched before her. Now Kanna understood what he intended to do. She had heard him mutter the words dozens of times while reading his scroll.
*Angel of light.*
_He wants to... sacrifice me?_
---