Chapter 47
Her frozen feet finally moved. Staggering back a few steps, her heels scraping against the gravel, Roseline soon broke into a desperate sprint. For a brief moment, she considered ducking into a nearby building—but that wouldn’t save her. She had to run as far as her legs could carry her.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, burning her throat. No matter how far she ran, the screams and wails never faded.
“M-Mommy…!”
Amid the chaotic stampede, she spotted a child—the same one from the lantern merchant’s stall—collapsed on the ground. The terrified kid had curled up, hands clamped over their ears, trembling violently while the crowd surged past without a second glance. Without hesitation, Roseline grabbed the child’s arm and yanked them up.
“WAAAH—!”
“Quiet! Cry later!”
Clutching the child’s hand, Roseline pushed forward—but their pace slowed drastically. The slaughter was closing in.
“Ah!”
The child, legs too short to keep up, tripped and fell. Roseline bit her lip. Behind the sobbing kid, the frenzied mob surged forward like a tidal wave—twisted figures, tangled together, tearing into the living.
“H-Hurts… Sniff…”
“If you don’t run, it’ll hurt worse.”
Roseline hauled the child back up. Even a glance told her the kid was in pain—their pants torn, blood soaking the fabric. Walking, let alone running, seemed impossible. Roseline quickly assessed the distance behind them before pressing a surge of magic into the child’s knees. Then, without a word, she shoved the kid forward.
“Go. Run.”
After a brief hesitation, the child wobbled into a sprint.
The thick stench of blood clogged Roseline’s throat.
What can I do? What should I do?
Her magic was limited. She had one shot.
Drawing a deep breath, Roseline raised her hand. A flickering white light pooled in her trembling palm, then expanded in rippling waves, unfurling into a massive, translucent dome. Golden veins shimmered across its surface as it solidified.
The blood-maddened attackers crashed into the barrier—only to rebound with dull thuds, flung back like ragdolls.
“…Got it.”
Roseline’s whisper was weak. Blood trickled from her nose in twin streams.
Thud. Thump. Thud.
Even now, the frenzied horde hammered against the barrier. How long it would hold, she didn’t know. The strain of covering the entire street had drained her—running was no longer an option. Wiping her nose with her sleeve, Roseline dragged herself and the child into the nearest building.
Three things became clear in this surreal catastrophe.
First, this disaster was connected to the bat from the clinic.
Second, the infected were influenced by magic.
And third, she was utterly screwed.
◇◇◇
Ordinary people—neighbors who had once been kind, merchants who had cheerfully haggled, strangers who had released lanterns into the sky—had all turned into bloodthirsty monsters. They roamed the streets, their mouths smeared red, tearing into the living with guttural, inhuman noises.
Roseline peeked through the curtains. The creatures that had been staggering through the streets just last night, their throats rasping with ragged breaths, were now nowhere to be seen. “They come out at night and vanish at dawn.” It had been the same pattern for days—just like the behavior of vampire bats.
They weren’t completely inactive during the day, but they were sluggish. Unless provoked by loud noises, they avoided the light.
She had seen it herself—an afternoon just a few days prior, when a screaming man had bolted down the street, only to be dragged down and turned into one of “them”.
This was a plague.
The speed of infection varied. Some turned immediately, their eyes flooding red the moment they were bitten. Others collapsed, only to rise hours later, their limbs twisting grotesquely like corpses clawing their way out of graves.
“How did life become this cruel?” She had no idea what to do.
Her only option had been to barricade herself inside—piling furniture against the doors and windows, keeping the lights blazing, and staying as silent as a corpse. At least she hadn’t starved yet, but now even the food was running out. The candles wouldn’t last much longer either.
“That damn barrier was too reckless. What was I thinking, trying to play the hero?”
“Are you some kind of savior?”
She had missed her chance to escape the city and was now trapped, waiting for death. The irony wasn’t lost on her. Even now, as she wallowed in self-pity, she had to keep her muttering quiet—lest the monsters outside hear her.
“I lived honestly. Why does everything turn to s**t?”
She thought of her stepmother—”why couldn’t she have been the one taken instead?”
“Is the child safe?”
“Is Lina okay?”
“I never even got to send that letter.”
“What’s happening in the capital?”
“What about Lady Schnitzel?”
“And Valen—is Valen alive?”
“…Damn it.”
The constant fear of death had made her emotions raw. Her eyes stung. Regrets piled up—things she should’ve done, words she should’ve said.
“I should’ve been kinder.”
“I should’ve told him I didn’t leave because I was tired of him.”
“I should’ve just married him.”
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