Chapter 5 – The Truth of the Fugitive and the Traitor

Despite the sweltering heat filling the entire city in the height of summer, Selena Blanchard walked through the night streets with a heart still steeped in cold. She believed that the forbidden document known as the "Black List" held all the secrets. She had already faced death multiple times to obtain fragments of information, yet her journey only grew more treacherous.

Even Leon Blackwood, who had always exchanged distrustful glances with her, had started to leak bits of information about the Black List. Whether he did so to test her or to further his own ambitions was unclear. And then, at a noble banquet not long ago, she had unexpectedly acquired a set of coordinates—coordinates that seemed to point to the whereabouts of Michel de la Longe, the advisor her father had trusted the most.

"Is Michel really here…?"

Standing in a wasteland bathed in the crimson glow of sunset, Selena glanced down at the map in her hand. The land before her, once scenic, now lay in ruins, covered in silence and overgrown weeds. This place had once been a remote estate of the Blanchard family, but now only the scars of fire and abandonment remained, testifying to its desolation. The years of neglect had left the buildings on the verge of collapse, their skeletal remains threatening to crumble at any moment. Through the gaps in the torn roofs, streaks of dying sunlight filtered unevenly.

"He must have spent years hiding in the shadows…"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Selena pulled her cloak tightly around her and cautiously stepped into the ruins. Broken bricks littered the ground, crunching under her feet with every step, and yawning holes in the walls concealed lurking darkness. Though it was hard to believe Michel de la Longe was truly hiding here, she held onto the hope that at least some traces of him remained.

'Traitor or scapegoat. Whatever the truth is, I will confirm it myself.'

Under the reddening sky, she replayed the past events in her mind—the documents she had discovered at the noble gathering, the cryptic warnings from Camilo Erheim, and Leon's sneering challenge: "Can you truly handle the truth?" All of them swirled in her thoughts, making her feel that her father's death was only the surface of a much deeper conspiracy.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, she felt a strange presence near a relatively intact part of the ruins. A small entrance was visible, and the wind rattled the frail door. Sensing that someone was nearby, she hesitated before slowly approaching.

The iron door was broken, so there was no need to knock. Inside, faint sounds of labored breathing echoed against the walls. As she stepped inside, she saw a man sitting in the corner, clad in tattered clothing. His body was covered in wounds, his strength clearly drained.

"Who's there…?"

His voice trembled as he spoke. Though his appearance was different from what she remembered—his face now rough with an unkempt beard, his eyes dulled—Selena recognized him almost instantly. The man who once sat in her father's study, always composed, assisting with accounts and governance with a calm intellect. Michel de la Longe. But now, there was no trace of the dignified "noble's advisor" he had once been.

"Michel… so you were really here."

Suppressing the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her, Selena tightened her grip on her dagger. She couldn't afford to lower her guard—not until she was sure he wouldn't turn against her. At the same time, she was shaken by the fact that she had found him exactly where the coordinates led her. If someone had deliberately leaked this information, why was he hiding in such a wretched place?

Michel squinted and studied her face.

"Could it be… Selena Blanchard?"

Holding her breath, she answered.

"I want to know who was behind my father's death. If you're truly a traitor, I need to see it with my own eyes."

At her words, Michel bit his lip as if in pain. His fingers trembled slightly. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the wall, revealing just how fragile he had become.

"Are you here to kill me, too?" "That's a question for you to answer. Weren't you the traitor?"

A sharp tension filled the space between them. Selena recalled the memories of Michel standing by her father's side, offering unwavering loyalty. Yet, looking at his current state, he seemed less like a traitor and more like a fugitive. What had truly happened?

"Did you betray my father?"

Even as she spoke, the words stung her heart. Michel shook his head.

"It's not what you think. You don't know anything yet." "Then tell me what really happened. The whole world believes you betrayed him." "Did you believe it, too?"

Michel let out a bitter laugh.

"Or did you come to put a blade to my throat and see for yourself?"

Selena exhaled sharply, her grip on the dagger tightening.

"I had to know if you were the real traitor or if someone framed you. That's all."

For a moment, Michel remained silent before taking a few sips from the water bottle she handed him. Though she had kept it for emergencies, seeing his exhausted state, she hesitated no longer. Gradually, his ragged breathing calmed.

"You think you know everything. That my lord trusted me until the very end, that I suddenly turned against your family… You believe all of this as fact."

His voice wavered.

"But it's a lie. Or rather, a carefully crafted deception by the aristocracy."

"What do you mean? My father received a warning that you would betray him. I never heard anything about that." "That's the problem. Your memory hasn't been altered, but key truths have been concealed and distorted."

Michel shook his head bitterly, as if recalling a night filled with horrors.

According to him, Count William Blanchard—Selena's father—had received a warning one day. "Someone close to you will betray you." The warning was vague, the sender unknown. At first, the Count dismissed it as a mere rumor. However, as malicious incidents began occurring around him, he grew increasingly suspicious of Michel. Or rather, someone had orchestrated events to make him suspicious.

"I never betrayed him. But someone made it look like I did."

Michel closed his eyes, exhausted.

"They pushed him into paranoia, and at the crucial moment, they eliminated him. Then, they framed me for everything."

Selena struggled to steady herself. If Michel was telling the truth, then the story she had believed in—the betrayal—was entirely fabricated. The one who killed her father wasn't Michel but a hidden force manipulating everything.

"That night, when I last saw my father… he was holding a dagger."

She suddenly recalled Blood Requiem—the ominous blade that had been found lodged deep in her father's body.

Michel nodded.

"Yes, that dagger was meant to be a message for you. Only its hidden cipher holds the key to saving your family and uncovering the truth."

Michel described how Count Blanchard had gripped the dagger tightly in his final moments. The Blood Requiem, a cursed heirloom of the Blanchard family, wasn't just a ceremonial artifact—it was a key.

"Your father held onto it until the very end. But afterward, it was found in your hands. Doesn't that seem suspicious?"

Selena bit her lip, memories flashing back. She had pulled the dagger from her father's body in shock and grief. That act alone had sealed her fate—marked as a murderer and cast out.

"If that dagger carried my father's last message, then why did they use it to frame me?"

Her voice wavered. Michel hesitated before giving a bitter smile.

"That, Selena, is the real conspiracy."

Before he could say more, footsteps echoed outside. A chilling wind swept through the ruins, and shadows emerged from the darkness.

"Damn it, they've already caught our scent…."

Michel struggled to stand, but his strength was failing. Selena quickly drew her dagger and helped him up.

Outside, the sharp sound of drawn swords pierced the air.

"Michel, they're here to silence you."

Grinding her teeth, Selena braced herself.

This fight had only just begun.