One Hundred Nights with the Devil - Chapter 29

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Conrad Ducal Castle was dark and red.

The stones forming the castle were all red, and the inside of the large gate was filled only with pitch-black darkness.

“Is anyone here?”

Instead of an answer, the sound of the drawbridge being raised was heard. Squeak, squeak.

And thud.

The only path to exit the castle was closed. Elena glanced once at the short path she had traversed, then walked into the castle interior, where light was leaking out.

Having safely passed through the tunnel penetrating the rampart, the interior of Conrad Castle, enveloped in black fog, came into view. Watchtowers lined up along the outer wall and several buildings complexly connected by exterior passages—corridors made only of roofs and pillars without walls…….

‘There are a lot of buildings. And it looks larger than the Grand Temple grounds, so when am I supposed to examine all of this?’

Elena first imprinted the inner castle structure in her mind, then decided to circle the castle along the exterior corridor. Passing the barracks building thickly covered in ivy, the training grounds, and the main castle’s rear garden with a long horizontal lake, the place she arrived at was a tower built in the northwest direction.

A tower built high with red stones. It was definitely a building she had seen before. No. She wasn’t sure if ‘seen’ was the appropriate word. Because Elena had seen the red tower before her eyes only in the dream she had at Viscount Odeur’s manor.

In that dream, along with the red tower, the Emperor in his youth had also appeared. Furthermore…….

‘This must be the tower where the woman named Vivian died.’

As expected, there was definitely something between the two. Elena quickly searched for the tower’s entrance. But the entrance she barely found, hidden by the bush, was firmly closed. A peculiar lock was even fastened on it.

Did they lock the door after she jumped? Had it never been opened since?

Although disappointed she couldn’t check the interior, Elena changed direction toward the south, promising herself she would check again later. Past a small annex that appeared to be the servants’ quarters, a wide garden was visible beyond a semi-circular window whose edges were crumbling.

The ground was bone-dry and pale without a trace of vitality, but above it, luscious white flowers were blooming profusely. Elena frowned.

‘So many flowers in this season.’

The air brushing her skin told her that the season within Conrad Castle, just like outside the black fog, was early spring. Therefore, it was impossible for so many flowers to be blooming profusely. Unless the Devil had a hobby for gardening.

Feeling suspicious, Elena carefully stepped into the garden. But she stopped before she had even walked a few steps.

Ah, indeed. They were not flowers.

What she had mistaken for flowers were hundreds of white cloths hanging from tree branches. And each cloth was stuck into hundreds of piles of stones. The piles of stones were…….

They were all graves. Countless graves, strictly following the Imperial funeral customs.

The cloths, tied there by someone holding a desperate wish, fluttered, mimicking falling blossoms. The desolate sound of the wind echoed like a prayer.

O God, please take back the souls you have bestowed.

Do not let them rot with their bodies.

Do not let the Devil covet them.

Please save them.

Elena was completely overwhelmed by the hundreds of graves. She would not have been so dumbfounded had hundreds of rotting corpses been piled up in this garden instead. But of all things, they were graves. Of all things, graves that reminded her of the nightmare of haphazardly piling stones onto her mother’s corpse…….

Elena gritted her teeth to keep from being caught by the darkness.

“Who in the world…….”

She somewhat nervously grabbed one of the fluttering cloths. On it was a commoner’s name, without even a family name, crudely embroidered. Next to the graves, shovels and pickaxes, which appeared to have been used to make the graves, were piled up.

To seek God in a land where a Devil has descended. To dream of salvation for souls already fallen into the hands of that wicked absolute being. Who, which foolish human, committed an act as dim-witted as digging the ground with bare hands?

Elena thoroughly searched the castle for that idiotic person. She retraced her path and scoured the barracks in the northeast, the area around the locked northwest tower, the rear garden, the servants’ quarters, and even the garden of the southern annex. But nowhere was there a trace of life. No one stabbing themselves with a knife, no death cries of those tearing at each other’s bodies or leaping into a pit of fire.

Now the only place left was the center of the castle, the main building of the Conrad Ducal House.

And what greeted Elena, who was utterly exhausted upon entering the main building, was once again not a living being. It was someone’s portrait, which dominated the wall of the central reception room on the first floor.

Elena looked up at the portrait of oppressive size.