The Devil in White

"Where did you get this sword, Paul?"

His tone was as sharp as the blade in his hand. He examined the sword closely, his fingers tracing the carvings on the hilt and the dried blood near the base of the blade.

Then, his eyes locked onto Paul's—sharp, deep, and filled with suspicion.

A tension crawled up the back of Paul's neck.

A cold sensation crept from the base of his spine all the way to his skull.

'Does he know that man…?' The thought made Paul's chest tighten. 'Were they friends?'

Julius said nothing. He just stared at Paul, waiting—clearly expecting the answer to come from Paul's own mouth.

Pressure built up inside him. Paul looked visibly cornered by the question. Cold sweat trickled down his face and slowly seeped into his clothes.

The atmosphere between them turned suffocating, as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for an answer that refused to come.

Then, finally, the tension shattered. Paul spoke. His voice was lighter than before, but still shaky.

"I already told you…" His tone rasped, barely above a whisper. He straightened up a little, trying to steady himself.

"…I picked it up."

He met Julius's gaze—even though it felt like staring into the eyes of a predator, one that hadn't yet decided whether to pounce.

"Picked it up?" Julius repeated, his tone flat. One eyebrow lifted. "Where?"

Paul felt a chill run down his spine. Cold sweat began to soak his back.

'Answer quickly. Don't hesitate. If you look nervous, they'll smell the lie.

"Near the cottage," he replied. "Buried under the snow. I… just found it."

He emphasized the word found, as if that alone might save him. It wasn't a lie. The sword had been lying there, untouched.

Julius tilted his head slightly, then gave a slow, single nod. But his eyes never left Paul.

"I see... In that case, I have one more question."

The air grew heavier. Even the wind that had been howling through the trees seemed to be still.

"Did you see who this sword belonged to before you found it?"

Paul held his breath.

'This is a trap. If I say yes, he'll ask who. If I say no, he'll know I'm lying.

But before Paul could answer, Julius spoke again. His tone was calmer now, almost conversational. But there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes.

"Relax, Paul. I just want to know. Nothing more."

His words were soft. But beneath them, the meaning was clear: Lie even a little, and he'll know.

Paul watched him carefully, then began to think.

'He hasn't drawn the sword on me… and his eyes—there's no rage in them. Just... caution. Maybe, for now, it's better if I tell the truth,' he thought to himself.

"Yes. I saw him," Paul finally said.

Immediately, Teila—who had been standing quietly beside Julius—turned her head.

Her gaze was sharp, piercing.

"Where are they?" Julius asked, his voice laced with threat—wrapped in a calmness that only made it heavier. Paul exhaled slowly.

"They… are dead."

Julius's eyes widened, shocked by what Paul had just said.

Teila clenched her jaw. Her eyes burned with fury, as if she'd been waiting for Paul to say exactly that.

"I knew it!" Teila's shout shattered the brief moment of silence.

"You're the one who killed them, aren't you?!"

Her sword rose high, then leveled directly at Paul's chest.

Paul instinctively stepped back, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Then I'll kill you myself… to avenge them both!"

Teila advanced, shoulders taut, blade raised. Rage twisted her face, her breath heavy and uneven.

Then, suddenly—

"That's enough, Teila."

Julius's voice cracked through the air—sharp and commanding—though he didn't even look at her.

His face was lowered, hidden beneath a veil of shadow, but the fury in his voice was undeniable.

Teila froze. Her body locked in place, as if bound by an order too heavy to resist.

Her teeth clenched, and her eyes still burned like embers.

With a frustrated grunt, she sheathed her sword—roughly, almost as if she meant to break the scabbard itself.

"Tch..." she muttered under her breath.

She remained rooted to the spot, her glare unchanged—seething, full of hatred.

Paul understood now.

Paul was now certain.

The burly man and the other two back at the cottage... they were their friends.

And now, they think I'm the one who killed them.

"So, did you kill them?" Julius asked.

This time, his voice was completely flat. And that made it even more terrifying. Paul stared at the ground for a moment, then slowly looked up at him.

He took a deep breath and answered,

"No. I didn't kill them."

He was telling the truth. There wasn't a single lie in his words.

'Why would I kill them?' he thought.

It was true that he had once considered killing them, but only because of the situation. In the end, it wasn't he who caused their deaths. It was... the voice. The scream that came from the sky.

Julius just stared at him, silent. His face was like stone, offering no hint of emotion.

Paul felt his throat dry. He swallowed hard.

Then, without warning, the atmosphere around them suddenly shifted. Julius, who had been looking down, slowly lifted his head. His eyes locked onto Paul—deep, piercing.

Then... he smiled.

Without any warning, a soft chuckle escaped his lips. Light—too light to pierce the silence that had just been suffocating.

"I knew it," he said with a soft laugh.

He patted Paul's shoulder twice, as if they had just wrapped up a small transaction. As if he had already known the answer from the very beginning.

The tension hanging in the air shattered immediately—cracking like glass struck by a stone.

But not everyone welcomed that laugh.

"Do you trust him?!" Teila snapped, her eyes burning with anger, unable to accept the reality of what had just happened.

Julius slowly turned to face Teila.

"Yes, I trust him," he said lightly.

"Someone like him? He wouldn't kill without a clear reason." Julius chuckled softly.

But the atmosphere shifted again when Paul finally spoke, his voice now calm—but cold like a blade.

"...I didn't kill them. But I tried."

Silence snapped through the air. Julius turned slowly. His eyes sharpened again.

"Then… why are they dead?"

Paul straightened his back, then sighed.

"They died because of the scream from a monster that appeared in the sky," he answered firmly.

"...A monster?" Teila snorted derisively. "I didn't hear any monster scream."

Paul shot her a sharp look.

"I'm not lying! A giant monster... it's up there!" He raised his finger, pointing to the sky.

Everyone turned in the same direction. Empty. The sky froze in silence. There was nothing.

Paul's eyes widened in shock. He felt his heartbeat vanish for a moment as he stared at the sky he had pointed to.

"...No... There was something..."

"Hah! I told you, he's a liar," Teila sneered. "I've had my suspicions from the start."

Paul was left speechless.

'Where did it go...? he thought in panic.

The massive monster frozen in the sky... had suddenly vanished. As if swept away by a cold wind now biting his skin like invisible thorns.

'I saw it. I felt it. That wasn't an illusion. Was it only me who could see it...? What's really going on...? he thought, muttering to himself in his mind.

The cold sweat that had briefly stopped began to flood again, as if his body knew all too well that this nightmare wasn't over.

Meanwhile, Teila kept pressing him.

"I didn't see anything! If a monster that big really existed, we'd have seen it! I'm not stupid enough to believe your hallucinations!" she said sharply.

"I'm not lying!" Paul retorted. "I... I saw it! Right up there! The monster was like... like a giant shadow!"

"Right. You saw it," Teila mocked. "And only you. Well done."

Paul clenched his fist, his jaw tightening. He knew what he had seen. But his words weren't enough to explain it. On the other side, Julius was still staring at him. For a long time. In silence.

His eyes seemed to pierce through the layers of Paul's thoughts, as if searching for the truth behind his confusion. His hand touched his chin, deep in thought.

Paul's face indeed showed confusion—too much confusion to be lying. But Julius also realized: he hadn't seen anything in the sky himself. Only a thin mist and the shadows of trees swaying in the wind.

With an empty gaze, Julius looked up at the sky. He stared at the gray expanse for a long time. Then...

He sighed deeply.

"Snap."

The clap of his hands shattered the tension. All eyes were on him.

He first glanced at Teila, then shifted his gaze to Paul. His eyes—once cold and threatening—softened slowly, eventually transforming into a small, unexpected, and warm smile.

"No," he said lightly. "I believe in Paul."

Teila turned quickly, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard.

"Wha… What are you joking, Julius?" she murmured, her voice choked.

Julius then turned his head toward Teila.

Teila stared at him sharply, trying to decipher what lay behind Julius' gaze. There was no doubt in his eyes—everything seemed certain, and that only made the tension between them grow thicker.

Teila gritted her teeth, clearly angry and frustrated. Without saying another word, she turned away and walked off. Each step she took was swift and charged, as if she were trying to escape from the deepening frustration within her.

"Tch... Whatever," she muttered softly. "Why would you trust someone you've just met..."

The words were not directed at anyone, just a frustrated murmur thrown into the air.

But Julius kept smiling as he watched Teila's back retreat.

Not long after, Teila's voice rang out again—sharp and cutting—though she didn't turn around.

"If he does anything weird, it's your responsibility!"

Julius let out a short laugh, then answered casually,

"Yeah. I'll take responsibility."

Then Julius slowly turned his gaze toward Paul. A small smile formed on his lips, calm and friendly.

"So, Paul..." he said as he extended the sword hilt toward Paul.

Paul stared at it for a moment, then slowly reached out and gripped it tightly in his hand. The hilt still felt cold against his skin.

Julius's voice was warm, almost friendly.

"What really happened? You can tell me later. For now, just follow me."

He then turned around and walked away casually, leaving Paul without waiting for an answer.

Paul stood still, his eyes wide.

'Why does he trust me...? he thought.

He stared at Julius's retreating back. There was something he couldn't understand. Why did he trust a stranger? Even someone he had just met.

He trusted so easily? It didn't make sense. The world didn't work like that. People like Julius... never did anything without hidden motives.

Paul clenched his fists. Something felt off inside him, like a thorn stabbing from within.

"Why do you trust me?" he asked, his voice soft but clear.

Julius stopped in his tracks.

He didn't respond right away. His face went back to being flat, neutral, showing no emotion. His gaze remained fixed ahead.

"...There's no particular reason," he answered quietly. "My instincts just told me so."

He glanced at Paul and gave a faint smile.

"Come on, follow me."

Then he started walking again.

But Paul knew. That smile wasn't just politeness.

Paul stayed silent, staring at Julius with an empty gaze.

He had met many people like Julius throughout his life—too many, until he grew sick of encountering such types.

People who hid their true intentions behind a friendly smile, people who spoke with warm tones and relaxed body language, as if they had no malicious intent whatsoever. But it was precisely those types who were the most dangerous.

Sheep's clothing… but with wolf's fangs.

Their smiles were soothing. But if you got too close, you'd lose your throat before realizing your mistake.

Paul gritted his teeth.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his noisy mind. But the disgust still lingered. It settled at the bottom of his throat like bitter mud.

Paul's gaze shifted. Julius now stood near the massive bear's corpse that Teila had slain. Around him, bodies of the victims who hadn't had the chance to flee lay scattered.

Julius stared at them. The faces of strangers—faces that would never breathe again. There was sorrow in Julius's eyes, but not the kind that teemed with tears—it was more like a painful emptiness. Flat. Hollow. He lowered his gaze slightly, then shifted his attention toward the bear's carcass.

His hand brushed his pocket.

He pulled out a small dark pouch. Quietly, he directed it toward the bear's body.

He focused intently on the carcass of the bear.

Then, suddenly, the air around the pouch trembled softly. A faint light enveloped it—and then, the massive bear's body began to distort, as though it were being absorbed by an empty void.

In a matter of seconds, such a large monster... vanished. It was silently drawn into the tiny pouch.

'What the hell…?' Paul murmured to himself.

He took a half-step back. His eyes widened, his breath caught.

The giant bear, gruesomely dead, had just been sucked into the tiny pouch, as if its body weighed no more than a wisp of cotton.

'Impossible... a pouch that small.'

He couldn't hide his shock.

His eyes remained fixed on the ground where the giant body had disappeared, the trail of blood still visible—but the body? Gone.

Julius glanced briefly at him, noting Paul's expression, then let out a small laugh. His voice light, almost mocking.

"Hah... Nice reaction."

He raised the small pouch toward Paul, as if showing off a treasure.

"This is a magic pouch. Its function? To store things. But only inanimate objects—living creatures can't be stored. Well, unless they're already dead."

He tucked the pouch back into his belt and spoke again.

"This thing's pretty handy for hunting. Beats dragging a huge corpse around, right?" Julius said proudly.

"You know… your reaction—it was pretty much the same as Teila's the first time I showed her this thing," he added with a grin.

He turned slightly, exaggerating a mock-shocked pose, then made a goofy expression.

"She looked like this—"

He widened his eyes and let his mouth fall half open.

"And then… like this!"

His expression turned dramatic and exaggerated, like someone truly shocked but trying to remain graceful.

Paul couldn't hold back a laugh. Despite the lingering pressure and unease gnawing inside him, the corners of his lips curled upward—then a soft, genuine chuckle escaped.

For a brief moment, the tension melted away.

But the moment didn't last.

"Could you stop fooling around… Julius?"

The cold voice cut through the air.

Teila stared at Julius with sharp eyes, her words slicing like a veiled threat.

Julius turned his head slowly.

"Haha… yeah, yeah. My bad…"

He was still chuckling softly, trying to ease the tension, though his voice was clearly losing steam. Teila didn't laugh. Instead, she slowly raised her sword—deliberate, threatening. Her eyes never left Julius.

"If I have to, I'll stab you right now," she said coldly. That way, you can stop laughing for good."

Julius immediately raised both hands, a forced smile stretching across his face.

"Alright, alright… I surrender. The sword's sheathed, Teila. I'm serious," he said, lifting his hands halfway in mock surrender, the remnants of a grin still clinging to his lips.

Teila finally lowered her weapon and slid it back into its sheath with a sharp, practiced motion. Then, she turned her gaze toward Paul—just a glance. But it was enough. Cold. Piercing. A look laced with distrust. 

As if to remind Paul—He still hadn't earned his place here.

Without a word, Teila turned and walked away, her steps quick, deliberate.

The boy who had been crying earlier quickly followed behind Teila—his steps unsteady, but loyal.

A few seconds later, Julius stood still, watching their backs disappear into the snowy haze.

"Well... that's enough joking around. Come on, Paul. Let's go," he murmured, barely above the wind.

Paul turned to him, hesitant.

"Go where?" he asked flatly, though the curiosity in his eyes betrayed his tone.

Julius looked at him—his gaze as calm and unreadable as ever. Then came that faint, crooked smile.

"Home."