A few days later, the orphanage was in chaos. The mouths of more than thirty children relied on the groceries that Joan's cart occasionally brought to maintain the minimum standard of living.

Sometimes, a few children who went to pick garbage at the landfill would be missing. Romeo, too busy to inquire about the specifics, didn't bother.

Merka sometimes went out to earn some money to support the family. However, due to Othello's limited magical power of detection, Merka couldn't use the spell continuously for a whole day. He had to walk more than a dozen miles on the mountain road every day.

Moreover, the family used to rely on Othello to regularly pay back loans to a high-interest institution. With Othello gone, no one knew where to pay the money, and no one was willing to ask, nor did anyone have the money to pay.

The appearance of drug bags in the orphanage became more frequent.

No one was prepared for the impending torrential rain and could only shelter themselves like terrapins.

But soon, retribution came.

Merka would always think that this must be his own deserved punishment.

He hadn't used all his efforts to punish himself.

Knock, knock, knock!

The sound of knocking on the door rang out.

"Merka..." a child next to him reminded.

"I know." Merka stood up from his small desk and walked through the backyard and dining room, heading straight to the place that held the fate of the entire orphanage.

If Joan didn't deliver groceries, the orphanage would not have been able to survive.

Merka was filled with determination at the thought of Joan.

"Ah? Hello..." Merka pushed the door open and saw a completely unfamiliar figure on the other side.

"Wow, indeed the place where the cursed child lives, the stench can be smelled from far away. I won't go in."

"You hurry up, sister. I have a party to attend this afternoon." Two flashy-dressed women stood at the door, with the bigger one saying this to the smaller one.

"Oh, I know, leave it to me for a while." The smaller woman patted Merka as if she were polite and closed the door. "Then I'll rely on you to show me the way, cutie."

Rather than saying she led the way, it was more like the woman forcefully dragged Merka around. The bustling orphanage from moments ago was now empty, not a single person in sight.

"Well... according to the usual procedure, we should break things first and then beat people. But there's really nothing valuable here." The woman restrained Merka with a tremendous force, squeezing his wrist to the verge of swelling.

Why? Merka winced in pain.

None of the children he had helped in the past stepped forward to even plead for him, each one hiding in a hidden corner of the orphanage, too afraid to even breathe.

And now Romeo, the only one who could represent the orphanage, was still tirelessly working outside for the survival of the orphanage.

"Forget it... let's skip the process and just start." The woman let go of Merka and threw him to the ground.

A fiery red magician's hand emerged from behind the woman, with terrible force flattening the fragile chairs and tables. Fragile wooden cabinets were flung out one by one like toys, smashing against the wall and shattering. Quilts filled with cotton were twisted into spirals and burst into sparks, scattering the filling on the ground.

"No one's coming out yet? Are you unpopular in the orphanage, little devil?" The woman continued to intensify the destruction, sweeping through the ceiling, beams, and fireplace. Nothing was spared from her sight as she rampaged, reducing everything that seemed useful to rubble.

Merka stood by, paralyzed by the terrifying power of magic. He had no idea that magic could be used to create such a catastrophic disaster.

The surroundings were like being chewed up by some kind of wild beast, not a single place remaining the same as before. But even so, those children hid themselves well, showing no intention of coming out.

"Well, your house really can't withstand much, can it? Did the bricklayer cut corners?" The woman stopped the magic and grabbed Merka's trembling hand, then wandered around.

"Ah... how disappointing. Is there no one else?" The woman came to the children's bedroom and stopped in her tracks.

In the corner, a piece of fabric from a pair of pants shifted in the pile of rags, catching Merka's eye.

It was Macbeth's pants.

Merka immediately suppressed the fear and astonishment in his eyes, calming his trembling body as much as possible, trying not to let the woman notice anything unusual.

"I didn't see clearly earlier...but upon closer inspection, I didn't expect it to be so delicate." The woman smirked, teasingly pinching Merka's cheek.

"I mean, you're such a good-looking guy, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with your body. Why would you hang out with these cursed children?"

Merka seemed to understand something, extreme terror dominating his entire body, forcing him to take big gasping breaths of air.

"Originally, after smashing things, there was also a part where we beat people...but since you're being obedient, let's just move on to the next part, shall we?" The woman saw Merka standing silently like a cat and became interested.

"Sister will teach you something interesting..." The woman pushed Merka down, one hand firmly gripping his neck, while the other began undoing his clothing.

Due to fear, in a situation where his body was already severely lacking oxygen, Merka's only source of oxygen was completely cut off by a strange force, and a dizzy sensation swept over him like a lit lantern.

Before he could undo a few buttons, Merka felt his consciousness like a wandering soul attached to the ground, dimly perceiving everything. Where he wanted to go, what he wanted to see, he had no control over it.

Merka reluctantly opened his eyes and glanced towards the pile of rags. In the disregarded pile of rags, Macbeth's eyes showed fear. Those eyes clearly wanted to tell him that the enemy was too powerful, and all he could do was watch himself fall into calamity, there was nothing he could do.

Yes, there was nothing he could do.

It was then that Merka realized what kind of emotion he had when he initially tried to refuse the surgery.

He must have been thinking that healing and saving people were beyond his capabilities, that was why he repeatedly tried to refuse Joan's offer.

What right did he have to blame Macbeth? Weren't they the same?

Yes...humans are not born with the right to blame each other.

"Because there's nothing we can do about it." Merka pushed the woman's hands away and said.

"What?" The woman was shocked by the sudden burst of strength from Merka.

Hot tears burst forth with the courage of a broken jar, accompanied by magic spells and formations that Merka was unfamiliar with, as if they had been hidden in his mind all along.

"Ruby Flame Breaker." Three sharp and scorching fire guns suddenly appeared from Merka's chest, piercing through the woman and sending her flying up to the ceiling—falling down, lifeless.

Suddenly, Merka had an abstract realization.

It felt as if everything he had done so far—studying, making friends, eating—had no meaning at all. In the face of overwhelming hardship, everything he did was meaningless.

The pressure of killing seemed to have made Merka become strange, and the surgeries for his siblings, the burden of debt, the impoverished days, and the crime of murder, finally depleted Merka of the strength to use his intelligence.

"I should escape...why shouldn't I escape?" Merka, who stood up unsteadily, seemed to be in a strange state, even if Macbeth was shouting behind him, Merka couldn't hear it anymore.

Merka walked towards the window, leaning on the window frame with both hands and crossing over it.

"I should be able to escape...I have the right to escape, I don't owe anyone..." Merka limped and ran towards the city, the emptiness brought by the depletion of magic gradually invaded his body, the images of the surroundings in his mind flickering, about to be extinguished.

"Hey! That brat." Another woman who had been waiting outside the door saw Merka jump out of the window and immediately gave chase. However, due to Merka's desperate running, the distance between them had not yet closed.

I can see it too...my body isn't crippled...I'm not a demon...I...I...

Merka didn't know how long she had been running for, but she felt like her throat was being frostbitten by the cold air. Suddenly, her body was embraced by a warm embrace.

Snow, falling endlessly.

The pursuing soldiers who had been shouting behind her seemed to have disappeared into the snowy ground, and there was no sound at all.

Merka wanted to lift her head to see who was in front of her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't open her eyes. Her magical vision also dissipated along with the remaining magic in her body.

Thin flakes of snow fell on Merka's shoulders.

"Joan... is it Sister Joan?"

"I really wish to see you... I dream about seeing you."

"So many things have happened at the orphanage. Brother Othello has died, and Sister Juliet has also disappeared. Everyone at the orphanage seems to have changed. I even... I even killed someone..."

"What am I supposed to do..." Merka buried her head in Joan's stomach.

Joan remained silent and didn't immediately respond to Merka.

"Merka, I have to leave; I came to say goodbye."

"This is probably the last time I will see you."

What?

Why?

Where are you going?

Merka remembered Joan's words about never coming back. Shock and sadness rushed into her chest like tidal waves, and fragments of memories of their time together intertwined into a reality that Merka couldn't believe.

"Merka, I feel helpless and heartbroken about the sacrifices you made," Joan's voice was like that of an angel. "But there's nothing we can do about it, just like how humans have to experience birth, aging, illness, and death, or how the moon goes through its phases." Joan embraced Merka, gently caressing his back.

Suddenly, two spherical objects were placed into Merka's palms. They were warm and soft, just like Joan herself.

"What is this?"

"A farewell gift from me... I've considered many things, and this seemed the most practical."

"It's a relic made from the black gemstone I've been wearing for the past few days. If I die, it will be imbued with magical power."

"You will have the right to use the powerful magic and spells from the Agio family."

"And what I told you before... about being willing to die for you, no matter what. After much thought, I realized it would be too heavy a burden for you."

"Forget about it."

"A person cannot live in the shadow of others, nor in someone else's dream."

Joan placed her hand on Merka's head and gently massaged it.

"However, setting all that aside, I want you to know..."

"I truly love you."

After saying those words, Joan pushed Merka away. Merka, like a blind person, lost all means of observing her surroundings and flailed her arms wildly, unable to grasp anything. Instead, she fell into the snow.

Tears streamed down Merka's face, mixing with the snow, disappearing without a trace.

In the vast snowy landscape, the heavy snowflakes came down like mountains of feathers.

Merka lay in the snow, like a newborn baby, waiting silently to be covered and buried...