Lantra fell silent.
Sicana's hysterical roar left him speechless. He didn't know how to persuade him—
Or rather… did he even have the right to?
Hatred carved this deeply could only be extinguished when the enemy was reduced to dust. What words could possibly dissolve something so absolute?
"So," Lantra finally asked quietly, "you're killing… for revenge. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"…Which number am I?"
"The last."
"…Then do it."
Lantra closed his eyes.
"But they are innocent. Don't hurt them."
Sicana lowered his gaze. "You're still the same as you were back then."
"No!"
Lora screamed, trying to rush forward, but Caitlin held her tightly.
Charlotte bit her lip. She had heard Sicana's hatred-filled cries. For a moment, she didn't know what to do. She might be more mature than most children her age—but she had never faced something like this.
She only knew that Grandpa Lantra was a good man.
And she didn't want him to die.
But what could she do?
Charlotte clenched her fists so tightly her nails pierced her palms, drawing faint beads of blood.
The scent was almost imperceptible.
Yet for some reason, it caught Sicana's attention.
Still holding Lantra hostage, he turned—
And saw the three of them.
The moment his gaze landed on the blonde girl, something exploded inside his mind.
A venomous voice screamed within him.
Kill her.
Kill her.
Kill her kill her kill her kill her kill her—
Kill. Her.
Sicana's eyes turned crimson.
Everything froze.
Footsteps sounded outside the house—likely the Inspection Bureau, arriving far too late.
Sicana knew what he should do.
Kill Lantra. Take his ears. Escape.
But—
He couldn't move.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from Charlotte.
How long passed?
Perhaps only an instant.
The red swallowed his entire vision.
"AAAAAH!"
With a roar, Sicana lunged toward Charlotte.
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Lantra felt the blade leave his back. He opened his eyes just in time to see Sicana charging at Charlotte.
"Don't!" he shouted.
Charlotte froze.
Her mind screamed at her to run.
But her body felt bound by some invisible force. She couldn't move. Could only watch as the blade drew closer—
Closer—
At the final moment, Charlotte closed her eyes.
So this is it.
I'm going to die.
I'm sorry, Father. I couldn't avenge you.
Memories flickered through her mind like a lantern show.
And at the very end—
They stopped on a certain perpetually unreliable man.
If she died…
Would Lolan be sad?
For some reason, she both wanted him to be sad—
And didn't want him to be.
If he were sad… would that mean she mattered to him? Even just a little?
Charlotte knew what it felt like when someone important died.
She didn't want Lolan to suffer that pain.
Goodbye, Lolan.
—
But the pain never came.
Charlotte slowly opened her eyes.
The sea-blue necklace Lolan had given her was glowing faintly.
A transparent barrier had formed around her.
The blade stopped against it—unable to advance even a fraction.
"AAARGH!"
Sicana roared in fury, but no matter how hard he pushed, the knife could not pierce the shimmering shield.
Only his frustrated screams passed through it.
What… is this?
Charlotte stared in shock.
Could it be—
"Lolan?"
At that moment, the barrier shattered like glass, fragments scattering into the air.
Lora's family, who had just begun to relax, tensed again in fear—
But strangely, even without the shield, the blade remained suspended in midair.
No matter how Sicana strained, it would not move.
"Stop trying. You can't break free."
A lazy voice drifted through the falling fragments of light.
A figure stepped forward.
It was Lolan.
"Yo, Charlotte. Weren't you just here for dinner? How'd you manage to get yourself into such a mess?"
He crouched and gently ruffled her hair.
Charlotte was silent for a moment.
Relief spread quietly through her chest.
Then she smiled brightly.
"Because you came too late."
"Oh my, oh my…"
Lolan sighed with a helpless smile.
---
The rest was simple.
Lolan handed Sicana over to the confused, belated officers of the Inspection Bureau and took Charlotte home.
Charlotte remained quiet along the way.
Too much had happened tonight.
Sicana.
The truth.
Lolan.
She needed time to process it all.
Lolan understood.
So he said nothing.
They walked in silence beneath the moonlight. The city felt deserted—ever since the Narcissus Street incident, fear had spread through the populace. At this hour, the streets were empty, lit only by moon and stars.
Two shadows stretched long across the pavement.
"Lolan."
Charlotte suddenly spoke.
"What is it?"
"I don't understand."
She lowered her eyes.
"That man… Sicana. Was he truly wrong?"
"Yes. He was."
Charlotte froze.
She had expected comfort. Perhaps justification. Perhaps a softer answer.
But not that.
Her cheeks puffed up slightly in displeasure, like an indignant little pufferfish.
Lolan chuckled softly and patted her head again.
"Let me guess what my adorable Miss Charlotte is thinking."
"You think Sicana was forced into it. That he's not some irredeemable monster. Right?"
"…Yes."
Lolan's voice remained gentle.
"But Charlotte, you must understand. The people Sicana killed—Lantra was not the first. There were three before him. Four in total."
"They were innocent."
"..."
"Sicana may have had a tragic past. His hatred and injustice explain why he did what he did. Those reasons allow us to sympathize."
He looked down at her.
"But 'understandable' does not mean 'correct.'"
"His suffering tells us he may not have been evil at heart. But what he did was wrong."
"And wrong is wrong."
"No matter how many reasons you pile onto it, you cannot turn something wrong into something right."