The Truth of the Fracture

Torchlight flickered through the attic, driving back the darkness in the corners while making the piled-up clutter cast even stranger shadows.

Leaning against the doorframe, Sera endured the weakness brought on by [Bestow Curse] and guarded the only exit vigilantly. Celia, meanwhile, knelt halfway to the floor, constantly soothing the restless music box.

Holding up his torch, Xia Lin began carefully searching the attic that had been used as a children's room.

The murals on the walls had faded, depicting fairy tales: brave knights, beautiful princesses, and talking animals. Yet under the firelight, those once-warm scenes looked eerie and distorted.

Some toys lay piled in the corner, all covered in dust.

Moldy bedding covered the bed, and a name was embroidered on the pillow: Lilian.

"This should have been that child's room," Celia said softly.

"What exactly was she doing here?" Xia Lin muttered as he inspected the walls and floor.

He knocked on the walls, but the sound was dull everywhere. He then checked the small children's wardrobe, which contained only a few worn-out children's clothes.

(A mother watched over her dead child's toys, then became a Lamenting Banshee...)

Xia Lin shook his head. The story was too simple—far too simple to explain those [Undying Lampstands] and her state of [Soul Fracture].

His torch swept across a wall. A child's drawing was pinned there, showing a crooked sun and three stick figures.

Xia Lin stopped.

He reached out and touched the drawing.

(The paper is dry, but the wallpaper behind it is a little damp.)

He pressed hard against the drawing.

"Click."

With a soft sound, the wall beneath the drawing sank inward, revealing a dark entrance just wide enough for one person to pass through.

"A secret room?" Sera immediately straightened up.

"I'll take a look." Holding his