"Mr. Painter, have you come to the Ten Kings Conference with some new conspiracy?"
At the press conference, Painter stared at the microphone thrust into his face, his expression black as thunder.
He wanted to swear, to curse out the reporter who was slandering his good name. But with countless camera flashes going off, he knew he could only keep smiling.
"There is no conspiracy. I am simply answering Lord Black King's call and hoping to help North Mang through this crisis."
The reporter pressed on. "Then if you want to save North Mang, why did you open the forbidden domain to destroy it? We've heard that the Pseudo-Humans evolved because you opened the forbidden domain. How do you explain that?"
Painter said, "...Next question."
Years of taking the blame had taught him not to defend himself, because no one would believe him.
An ominous castle stood wreathed in gray mist. A few black crows perched atop it, their scarlet eyes surveying their surroundings coldly.
Wind swept through the empty corridors, making a sound like the sobbing of lost souls.
The entire castle was as deathly silent as an ancient tomb.
Deep within the castle, the collection hall brought that gloom and extravagance to their fullest expression.
The lofty vaulted ceiling was covered in intricate Gothic reliefs. An enormous crystal chandelier shed fragmented rays of cold light over the dazzling array of treasures.
There were antique suits of armor that seemed to conceal people inside, richly painted oils whose subjects wore uncanny expressions, music boxes displayed in glass cases, broken holy grails...
At a round mahogany table in the center of the collection hall sat three very different figures.
A man in a scarlet tailcoat occupied the head seat. His slender fingers lifted a cup of black tea and