I Refuse the Tragic Ending

Pale wooden plates covered its torso and limbs, each carved with unnatural precision. Fine cracks ran across their surfaces, exposing dark metallic joints beneath, while thin bundles of black threads extended between its shoulders, elbows, and wrists before disappearing into narrow grooves carved throughout its body. Its neck consisted of interlocking wooden rings that allowed its head to tilt at an angle no human spine could tolerate.

Even now, her back was facing him and yet her face was also clearly facing him.

The face was even more unsettling.

A smooth, porcelain-white mask covered its head, decorated with delicate crimson patterns resembling veins spreading beneath translucent skin. Two hollow sockets stared out from beneath its brow, each containing a tiny red light that flickered like a dying ember. Its mouth had been carved into a permanent smile, the edges stretching unnaturally toward its cheeks. Fine lines etched around its lips imitated human facial muscles with such disturbing precision that the expression seemed less like a craftsman’s attempt at beauty and more like a grotesque imitation of life.

Her artificial blonde hair was tied in a twintail.

No wonder when the puppet spoke, her voice sounded distant.

Rovan stared at the strange figure, momentarily forgetting the pain in his body. He had fought monsters, faced powerful enemies, and encountered enough horrors to know that appearances could be deceiving.

Yet nothing had prepared him for a puppet that could intercept a sword strike capable of tearing through a human body without suffering any apparent damage.

The purple aura surrounding his blade had cut through the puppet’s outer covering, exposing the mechanical structure underneath, but the wooden frame itself appeared almost untouched. Not even a visible crack marred the surface where his sword had struck. After pouring nearly all his remaining mana into that attack, he had accomplished little more than tearing away a piece of clothing.

Garrick watched from a distance, his expression hardening. ”That thing...” he muttered.

Liora, who had been preparing another spell, slowly lowered her hand, while Selene narrowed her eyes and examined the puppet’s exposed joints.

”Is that a magical construct?” Selene asked.

”Perhaps,” Garrick replied. ”But I’ve never seen one like it.”

The puppet paid no attention to their conversation. Instead, it turned its porcelain face toward Rovan, and the tiny red lights inside its eye sockets brightened.

”Your swordsmanship is considerably better than I expected,” it remarked, its voice strangely natural despite the faint mechanical clicking beneath each syllable. ”Unfortunately, your judgment remains rather poor.”

Rovan tightened his grip around his sword and forced himself to remain standing despite his body’s growing exhaustion. Behind the puppet, Valthazar Stitch slowly straightened his back. His earlier alarm had vanished, replaced by the familiar amusement that Rovan had come to despise.

”You really thought you could kill me with that?” Valthazar asked, releasing a quiet, breathless laugh as though the entire exchange had been nothing more than an amusing performance.

The puppet raised one slender hand and brushed a fragment of black fabric from its shoulder. Its movements were unnervingly smooth, lacking the stiffness one would expect from a wooden body. It then looked directly at Rovan, the carved smile on its porcelain face remaining unchanged.

”Allow me to offer you a piece of advice, boy.”

The red lights inside its eye sockets flickered as it continued.

”When confronting someone like Valthazar Stitch, you should first make certain that you understand what you’re actually fighting. Otherwise, you might spend your entire life sharpening a sword for an enemy who was never truly within your reach.”

For the first time since the battle began, Rovan felt a chill that had nothing to do with his injuries.

He had spent years preparing to face Valthazar, studying his magic, refining his techniques, and training himself to recognize every weakness he could exploit. Yet the puppet had crossed the battlefield without him noticing and intercepted his attack with enough precision to protect Valthazar without sustaining any apparent damage.

As the purple mana around his blade flickered weakly, Rovan began to question everything he thought he understood about his enemy. He had wanted to end this confrontation with his own hands, convinced that defeating Valthazar would finally put an end to the nightmares that had haunted him for years.

Now, staring at the porcelain face and its unnatural smile, he was forced to consider a troubling possibility: Valthazar Stitch might never have been the only nightmare he needed to overcome.

And whatever stood before him might be far more dangerous than the man he had spent years preparing to kill.

The puppet suddenly spoke, ”Honestly, Val,” the puppet said, glancing over her shoulder. ”You told me this would be an easy battle.”

Valthazar pulled himself and pressed a hand against his wounded side.

”It would have been, had they been less troublesome.”

”You were supposed to be the troublesome one.”

”Are you finished complaining?”

”Not remotely.”

Despite their exchange, the puppet shifted her stance, clearly protecting Valthazar. Her movements were subtle, but they recognized the change immediately.

She was not merely his accomplice. She was the one Rovan had to overcome first before he could reach Valthazar.

”You,” she pointed at Rovan, brushing a torn piece of fabric from her shoulder. ”Do you have any idea how expensive these fabrics are?”

Rovan raised an eyebrow.

”Who the hell gives a fuck about your fabrics?”

”Sigh. They were custom-made.”

The puppet gave him a nonchalant reply as if it didn’t feel worried about their situation.

Selene, however, had stopped paying attention to their exchange.

Something clicked in her mind.

”No way...”

Liora glanced at her.

”What is it?”

Selene took a cautious step forward, her eyes fixed on the unusual puppet.

”That thing. That wooden body...”

”What about it?” Liora asked.

Selene’s face paled.

”Lorelei Delilah.”

The name seemed to change the atmosphere around them.

Even Garrick stopped moving.

Liora stared at Selene in disbelief before turning back toward the puppet.

”Lorelei Delilah? You mean the killer from overseas?”

Selene didn’t answer. She nodded silently.

Then she muttered.

”The Slayer.”

Upon hearing it, the wind around them grew colder.

Another infamous name. And this time, it was widely known.

All of them knew who Lorelei Delilah was, a notorious killer whose name had spread across international borders, associated with a long list of assassinations and disappearances. The accounts surrounding her were so disturbing that many people considered them exaggerated, while others refused to discuss her at all.

Unlike ordinary criminals, Lorelei was not known for grand ambitions or public declarations. She appeared, completed her objective, and disappeared, often leaving behind victims who had never understood why they had been targeted.

Her reputation had earned her a name that was spoken with fear even among experienced adventurers.

The Slayer.

The puppet suddenly made chuckling sounds as if it was amuse.

”Hehehe. You’ve finally realized who I am.”

A figure suddenly shot forward with killing intent. But before his punch hit the puppet, it disappeared. The puppet and Valthazar appeared a few meters away from where they were standing a second ago.

”Tsk!”

Garrick clicked his tongue while tightening his fist. His sneak attack failed.

Garrick stepped in front of Rovan. His expression hardened.

Dark mana thickened around his fists.

”I don’t care how many countries you’ve terrorized. You aren’t leaving this forest.”

The puppet looked at him for a moment.

Then she laughed.

It was not the light, teasing laugh she had used earlier. This one carried a coldness that made Selene’s instincts scream at her to retreat.

”You still don’t understand, do you?”

Crimson mana began to gather around the puppet’s body. The pressure intensified, and the surrounding air distorted beneath the force of its power.

”You’ve mistaken my willingness to play along for an inability to kill you.”

Garrick lowered his stance.

Selene and Liora immediately repositioned themselves around Rovan, preparing to support Garrick.

After his attack failed to finish Valthazar, Rovan struggled to remain standing. His injuries had worsened, and purple mana flickered weakly. Even so, he watched the puppet and Valthazar carefully.

Valthazar Stitch was dangerous, but Rovan had spent years studying how to fight him.

Lorelei was different.

He was still not sure of her full ability. She was also capable of disrupting mana. She possessed both the skill and the power to overwhelm the instructors if they allowed her to control the pace.

Worse, she had barely seemed serious until now.

Valthazar glanced toward his companion.

”Lorelei.”

She clicked her tongue.

Her puppet mouth didn’t move but the voice behind it did so.

”Yes, yes. I know.”

She turned toward the instructors, her voice settling into a pleasant voice that did nothing to soften the menace her presence brought.

”I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this another day. Our business here is finished.”

”You’re not going anywhere,” Garrick said.

Lorelei tilted her head.

”Then stop me.”

For a moment, nobody moved.

The instructors knew they could not afford to let the two criminals escape. They also knew that continuing the fight without understanding the full extent of their opponents’ abilities could cost them their lives, leaving the students behind the crimson barrier without protection.

The decision was forced upon them when Valthazar began gathering dark mana around his feet.

The two energies intertwined, dark and crimson, forming a dense cloud that rapidly spread across the clearing.

Garrick charged through it, but the resulting pulse forced him to shield his face. Selene raised an ice barrier while Liora redirected the violent currents of air away from the injured instructors.

Seeing it, Rovan’s expression changed. He couldn’t allow Valthazar to escape. He swung his sword, sending a crescent of purple mana through the cloud.

His attack tore through the darkness. But the two strangers had already vanished. When the energy finally dispersed, only the torn remnants of their clothing remained scattered across the damaged ground.

A voice drifted through the trees.

”Worry about your students first.”

Lorelei’s voice echoed.

”Next time, Rovan, perhaps you’ll finally have the strength to finish what you started.”

Valthazar’s voice also rang. It carried a faint, mocking amusement.

Rovan’s grip tightened around his sword.

Before he could answer, Lorelei’s voice followed.

”You dumb oldman do take better care of yourself next time. I’d hate for you to embarrass us again.”

Her laughter faded into the distance.

Garrick swore under his breath.

Selene stared into the forest, her face grim.

”Valthazar Stitch and Lorelei Delilah,” she murmured. ”Two of the most dangerous criminals, appearing together in our academy’s examination grounds.”

Liora looked toward the crimson barrier surrounding the deeper forest.

”Let’s worry about them later. For now, let’s think about how to rescue the students.”

”You’re right.”

Everyone agreed with her.

The crimson barrier continued to pulse ominously above Emerald Forest.

Meanwhile, Kael looked above. The sky was still painted in blood color.