Chapter 395: Breaking the Chains
When the last voice faded, everything returned to silence.
Evelia once again stood in the pitch-black, empty room. The last light before her had vanished without a sound.
But in exchange, the light in her eyes had returned.
Her golden irises now glowed again, like the bright core of a golden candle flame.
She turned to look at the door that had held her here for who-knows-how-long.
Yes… she had already lost track of how long she’d been here. How much time had passed outside? What had changed out there? Evelia didn’t know at all.
White Dove had told her bits of news now and then, but most of it was about things directly related to her. About the rest of the world, she knew almost nothing.
She had spent all this time lost in the illusion of her “Mr. Armand,” so much so that it felt like she had lived an entire lifetime with him.
But just like every story has a final chapter, her story with that illusion, whether it had a happy ending or a tragic one, had already closed its last page.
Of course she didn’t want to let go. But she had no choice.
What she had to do now was break her chains and start a new story.
Ahead of her, many people and many things were still waiting for her.
And her freedom was waiting for her too.
She reached out her hand and began walking forward.
—To not be bound by anyone, to walk toward her own freedom… it sounded impossibly difficult.
Click… crack.
But still, she walked forward.
Hadn’t she always longed for this?
Clatter… click.
Only now, after losing so much, did she truly awaken to it.
The chain dragged along the floor, growing taut as she moved forward.
Evelia kept walking toward the door that had held her captive.
She was still full of regret. If only she had realized sooner…
But even if she had to carry the pain, she had to keep moving forward.
Is this what they call “growing up”? It really is unbearable.
—Clatter.
When she had injured Bluebird earlier, she had realized this chain was sturdy, but not strong enough to hold her forever.
After all, in a way, she wasn’t an ordinary “human.”
Her body was still flesh and blood, but it had been reforged and enhanced through alchemy. When she truly used her strength, she could surpass a normal human by far.
Clatter—!
Evelia kept moving, even as the chain cut into her wrists until they bled, even as her arms burned with tearing pain, she still pushed forward with all her strength.
She had to open the door. The door that led to her “freedom.”
She couldn’t betray Armand’s expectations. She couldn’t stay stuck in the same place forever.
“Ugh…”
Bitter bile rose in her throat; her face had gone pale from the effort.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
It hurt, but she kept going.
The answer was simple. Either let the chain cut her into two, or keep moving forward until the chain snapped.
Break everything that was holding her back.
That light… it’s still waiting for me.
Evelia spread her fingers wide, as if trying to grasp something. An empty bottle near her feet was kicked away, shattering sharply in the quiet room.
The bottles it bumped rolled aside, each one of them a dream she had once had.
But back then, she hadn’t truly been happy.
She had dreamed, dreamed of reuniting with Armand, of laughing with everyone and saying, “See you tomorrow.”
But she hadn’t been happy.
The blame, the truth, White Dove’s words had struck her too hard.
So hard that not even the hallucinogens could trick her into believing that “everything was fine.”
Those accusations, those truths, had always been buried deep in Evelia’s heart, making it impossible for her to lie to herself.
That kind of deep, aching guilt cut far too deep.
She had asked “Armand” countless times whether he blamed her. Every time, he told her it wasn’t her fault.
But if Evelia could have truly let go after just a few words of comfort, she wouldn’t have kept asking the same question over and over again. She longed for his answer, longed for his forgiveness, so she kept asking and asking, even now unable to truly forgive herself.
Even so, she had to take that step forward.
—Clang.
A step so heavy it dragged her entire past along with it.
Sometimes she wondered, what does the past really mean?
Is it something from long, long ago? Or does even yesterday already count as “past”?
But… yesterday was already gone.
After being taken to the House of Nightingales, her life with her original family vanished.
After becoming Red Crow, her life as “Furst” vanished.
After being with Armand, the title of “Red Crow” itself became something of the past.
And now, breaking free of her chains, surely all of that would also become the past.
The story of being sold by her birth family for a few sacks of grain.
The story of losing herself in a cage.
The story of seeking happiness at Armand’s side—
Crack!
All of it turned into the past along with the shattering of the shackles on her wrists.
Yes… even the tears she had shed just moments ago after hearing that voice had already become part of the “previous second.”
But some parts of the past should be thrown away, and some parts should be remembered for a lifetime.
“Haa… haa—”
Evelia collapsed onto the floor from the momentum, scraping her palm and adding yet another wound. Her arm had even been pulled so hard it dislocated.
But to her, this was nothing. She was long used to pain. With a sharp crack, Evelia forced her shoulder back into place, stood up, and began working on the rest of the chains on her body.
“Mr. Armand… I did it…”
She took deep breaths, the smell of blood and rust from the chains filling her nose.
“You… just watch me carefully from now on. I will never… ever let you down…”
Supporting her trembling body, she swayed but stood up straight. Just like a newborn learning to stand for the first time. Her brand-new story began from here.
“Hm?”
Outside, White Dove, who had just returned, thought he heard a strange sound coming from the pitch-black little room.
He assumed Evelia was just playing more of her “pretend family” games in her madness, so he approached curiously for a look.
Then he noticed the noise inside suddenly stop, and—
“—?!”
—The door was kicked clean off its frame.
Not just kicked open, literally kicked off, flying through the air.
White Dove, who had just been smiling and preparing to pull out his notebook to record her condition, was sent flying along with the door and crashed hard into the ground.
“—Hah.”
That single kick actually left Evelia feeling a little refreshed.
Gripping the edge of the doorway, she stepped out, her body covered in swelling and injuries.
She looked utterly battered, her dress torn to rags. Yet she still held herself straight, running a hand through her messy hair as she looked down at the man climbing out from under the wreckage.
“Tch…!”
Opposite her, White Dove rolled out from behind the iron door, reset his crooked nose with a crunch, and wiped away the blood from his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his white coat.
“You’re always asking me so many questions. Now… I have a question for you.”
As Evelia spoke, she brushed her fingers over the mark on her thigh. A red cloak appeared with a magician’s flourish, swirling once in her hands before draping over her shoulders, covering her torn clothing.
Next, like a magician producing cards, two familiar daggers appeared in her hands. Their cold gleam reflected in White Dove’s narrowed pupils.
“—Answer me, White Dove. As an ‘apothecary’… just how good are you in a fight?”