Chapter 7: Found You!
For Anna, these few counted minutes felt like psychological torture. The idea of hiding in the wardrobe brought back a memory she had desperately tried to forget—a memory from her hellish childhood, one she never lived like any normal child.
She couldn't leave the house, and she knew she couldn't resist. The last of her strength had been used just to move those few meters and climb up here to hide.
The pitch-black darkness inside the wardrobe made her tremble for a moment before entering, and now that cold feeling returned as she recalled the memory once again—the one she had always buried beneath her cold, strong mask that she had fought so hard to maintain.
But she suppressed it all in an instant, biting her lip. She had to think of a way to escape this deadly situation she had fallen into.
*Damn it, damn you, Number 41, and your cursed missions. You're the embodiment of bad luck and misfortune, just like Number 39 said,* Anna thought as she sat in the dark wardrobe, knowing that in moments, that monster would be here searching for her.
*Argh!* A sharp wave of pain shot from the back of her head. She was using a piece of cloth to wipe the blood, trying not to leave any trace—though it was pointless; it would only buy her a few seconds at most.
*I have one chance only. My fate depends on this final attack.* Even if it meant dragging him down with her, she wouldn't surrender without a fight. The dagger in her hand felt like a sacred weapon in her eyes. If she was precise with it, she might slip out of this mess like cream from milk.
Her life or death hinged on a few seconds. That feeling of being on the edge sent adrenaline surging through her body to its absolute limit, without her even realizing it!
At that moment, she heard the sound of the door opening...
She tightened her grip on the dagger and tried not to make any movement, fearing any noise. She sharpened all her senses to their utmost, plunging her into an unprecedented state of intense focus.
The sharp, cheerful voice entered her ears like the voice of the devil himself—laced with a provocative sarcasm that quickly shattered her concentration, making her grip the dagger even tighter!
"Where's the little kitten who loves hide-and-seek? Big brother here is tired of playing with you. Come out so I can see you and make sure you're okay—I've started to worry."
*Damn this twisted bastard,* she screamed and cursed inwardly. It was clear he was toying with her, enjoying terrifying her and playing with her mind. But she wasn't the type to be easily provoked; she had great self-control. She wouldn't attack until the perfect moment arrived.
Damian began searching behind the door, then moved to under the bed—which, like all the furniture in the room, was covered with a white sheet. Finally, it was the wardrobe's turn, in the far left corner of the room.
His hand moved slowly toward the brass handle. This was the last place left to check in the room, so Damian frowned. If she wasn't here, she had most likely escaped the house somehow—though he couldn't figure out how.
That increased his caution and deepened his scowl as he pulled both doors open at once. The wardrobe doors swung wide. "Found——you!"
The faint light from the lantern and candle he had lit after entering reflected instantly on her face as he shouted, making her eyes narrow slightly. She lunged at Damian with her dagger, aiming straight for his head the moment she heard his voice!
She had gathered every last bit of her remaining strength into one single attack!
A silver flash gleamed before his eyes for the second time that day—right after opening the wardrobe—filling him with a powerful sense of imminent danger.
Penetration!
*Drip... drip...* (the sound of dripping)
Drops of blood fell onto the cold floor, and a pained groan was heard—but unexpectedly, it wasn't from Damian. It was a weak, feminine voice struggling to catch her breath!
The dagger was buried deep in the palm of Damian's right hand, dripping blood, but his expression remained cold as he looked at Anna, who was struggling with both hands to hold onto his left arm—the one gripping her throat with crushing force.
He yanked her hard, then drove his knee into her stomach with brutal force, making her groan in pain. Then he kicked her toward the wall with a powerful push.
"You had a chance, but you didn't use it well," he said calmly, his face an icy mask as he advanced toward her. She clutched her stomach from the intense pain and kept coughing, while Damian pulled the dagger from his palm without even a grunt, then tossed it aside. He stopped in front of Anna and bent down to meet her face.
He grabbed her by the throat again, pinning her against the wall. He tightened his bloodied, wounded grip and delivered a powerful punch to her face, then another, then a third, then a fourth...
By the time he stopped the barrage, Anna's face had completely changed. It was no longer the beautiful face he had seen at first, nor did it hold the mad expression she had worn while attacking him. What remained was a swollen, bruised face that was hard to recognize.
Blood poured from her undoubtedly broken nose, and some of her teeth had fallen out. But she was still conscious—after all, she was a professional fighter, a low-rank knight, and her endurance was certainly far greater than Damian's current state.
"Now, tell me who sent you to kill me. This is the last chance I'll give you to survive. Tell me who wants me dead so badly that they killed my wife and daughter, and I'll spare your life," he spoke in a calm voice, but it carried clear impatience. This was a thread that would give him a glimpse into his situation and shape his future plans—he had to extract as much information as possible from her!
He didn't want to kill anyone, especially since he had only set foot in this world a few hours ago. But he knew he had no choice...
Fate wanted him to walk the same dark path he had been on before, so he wouldn't hesitate as long as it concerned his life—especially when someone wanted it so badly.
Just like in his first life, his first mission had been forced upon him, and now it seemed the second would be the same—beyond his will. Thinking about it made him let out a soft sigh as he looked at Anna's bloodied, bruised face, where helplessness and exhaustion were plain to see.
Anna had never imagined she would one day come this close to death. After she had obtained that mid-level meditation technique from that person, she had vowed to become the blade that would protect him one day, dedicating her life to him, waiting for the day he would notice her and acknowledge her. His face had been like the moon that lit up her darkness and gave her hope to keep living.
That had been her only regret!
A flood of memories surged through her mind in that moment—those sad days that had led her to meet him.
It was a sunny day. Inside a large two-story house, a family of three sat at the breakfast table, holding hands. A man in his late thirties with brown hair sat at the head of the table, reciting a kind of prayer.
"May the Mother of the Earth protect us and grant us more of her blessings. Amen."
The woman in her thirties clasped her hands as well and recited the prayer, as did the little six-year-old girl. All three said, "Amen."
"Let's eat," the father said with a smile, and each began eating from their plate. For a moment, it seemed like any ordinary happy family.
But it was only a facade!
What Fedor Maximan, the father, didn't notice was the pained expression his daughter tried so hard to hide—how her smile was forced and perfectly composed on her face!
The girl had short brown hair just past her shoulders and large brown eyes that showed clear childlike innocence, but a deep sadness was hidden within them.
Lately, Fedor had noticed his daughter's strange expressions a few times. Each time he asked, she said nothing, so he attributed it to her starting school at Count Harold's academy and her difficulty adjusting to the environment—something normal for children her age. So he told his wife, Marta, to handle it and encourage her.
But he didn't know that this only increased his daughter's suffering and made his wife—who always punished her—escalate her harshness and threats so she wouldn't show such suspicious expressions again!
She didn't hit her, but she would lock her in the wardrobe in her room for hours, leaving her to scream without opening it or paying attention.
Most of the time, she slept terrified and deeply afraid. She even became afraid to open the wardrobe, trembling intensely at the mere mention of the word.
After they finished breakfast and Fedor left the house, Anna trembled as she and her stepmother bid him farewell. Once the door closed, the stepmother turned to her, frowning deeply, and snapped in anger, "Why are you still standing here? Do you think I didn't notice your expressions earlier? Go up to your room and wait for me!"
Anna heard her angry words, bowed her head trembling with fear, turned her small body, and hurried up the stairs to her room on the upper floor...
End of Chapter.