Journey to Become the Zenith

The First Thread of the Conspiracy

"And until we discover why..."

"The danger hasn’t ended."

A chill ran down Clara’s spine.

"...You think whoever did this could come back?"

Victor’s gaze swept across the destroyed house.

"The front door was forced open."

"Your mother fought back despite her condition."

"Your sisters were cursed."

"None of this happened by coincidence."

He looked directly into Clara’s eyes.

"This wasn’t an accident."

"It was planned."

"And until we uncover the truth..."

"...none of you are truly safe."

Clara unconsciously swallowed.

For the first time...

She realized this nightmare wasn’t over yet.

It had only just begun.

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The moment Victor’s statement rang in her ears-"the only hope of saving your sisters is if you locate whoever cast this curse"-Clara’s normally expressive face became absolutely devoid of all emotion.

An unbearable silence fell over the decimated house. A thousand pieces of smashed-up furniture litter the broken ground around a dead body in the floor-Clara’s mother’s body in the floor; light from the dying sun gleams through a collapsed doorway, streaking dark bars across the corpse.

Clara’s head bowed to his shoulders.

Her fists tightened until they were bone-white, then hard and tight for the hundredth time this long evening. Of course. There was no question.

The same person who had cursed Kary and Nira...

Had also stolen years of her mother’s life.

The image of her mother’s gentle smile surfaced once more.

Then it was replaced by the countless silent years she had mistaken for indifference.

A violent emotion surged through her chest.

The air around her suddenly became heavy.

An overwhelming killing intent burst from Clara without warning.

It spread like an invisible tidal wave, causing the broken windows to rattle and dust to drift from the ceiling.

If an ordinary person had been standing there, their legs would have given out instantly.

Many would have vomited from the sheer pressure.

Even experienced warriors would have found it difficult to breathe beneath such terrifying bloodlust.

Victor, however, remained exactly where he stood.

His black coat barely fluttered as the invisible pressure washed over him.

Not even a strand of his black hair moved.

To him...

This level of killing intent was no more noticeable than a gentle breeze passing across an open field.

His golden eyes calmly watched Clara.

She wasn’t directing that hatred toward him.

She was drowning in her own rage.

Inside Clara’s mind, countless thoughts collided.

Because of him... Father died...

Because of him... Mother suffered for years...

Even after Mother finally found peace, only her soul remains...

Because of him... Kary and Nira are lying there unable to wake...

Her breathing became uneven.

Her nails dug into her palms until blood slowly seeped between her fingers.

Kill him...

Kill him...

Kill him...

Kill him...

The thought repeated itself over and over.

At first it was only anger.

Then it became obsession.

Every painful memory she had ever experienced slowly merged into the image of one unknown enemy.

Whether it truly began with him no longer mattered.

Her heart had already chosen someone to blame.

Victor quietly watched her.

He understood exactly what was happening.

Hatred often searched for a target.

Once it found one...

Reason became secondary.

Only vengeance remained.

After allowing the silence to linger for several moments, Victor finally spoke.

His voice was calm enough to cut through Clara’s storm of emotions.

"So..."

"What do you want to do?"

He already knew the answer.

Even so...

He wanted her to say it herself.

Clara slowly raised her head.

Her purple eyes no longer contained hesitation.

Only cold determination.

"We kill him."

Her voice was frighteningly quiet.

Yet those three words carried enough hatred to freeze the blood of anyone who heard them.

She knew killing the caster offered only a fifty percent chance of breaking the curse.

She knew there was no certainty.

But at that moment...

Logic no longer mattered.

Part of her convinced herself she was doing this for her sisters.

For her mother.

For her father.

Deep inside, however...

She knew another truth.

She wanted revenge.

Not justice.

Not answers.

Revenge.

Victor studied her expression for a moment before giving a small nod.

"Alright."

"Then we’ve made our choice."

He folded his arms.

"Now comes the difficult part."

"We need to find the person responsible."

His gaze became noticeably sharper.

"And to do that..."

"We need information."

He looked directly into Clara’s eyes.

"Tell me."

"How did your father die?"

The question struck Clara like a bucket of icy water.

Her murderous aura faltered.

The violent bloodlust filling the room weakened as confusion replaced it.

She frowned.

"...My father?"

"What does my father’s death have to do with any of this?"

Victor answered immediately.

"It may be the reason all of this began."

"So..."

"Tell me everything."

Clara remained silent for several seconds.

Even after all these years...

Remembering that day still hurt.

The pain had never truly disappeared.

She slowly closed her eyes.

"My father..."

"...was killed by bandits while returning home from the Capital."

Victor’s brows lifted slightly.

"Bandits?"

"Interesting."

He tilted his head slightly.

"What noble rank did your father hold?"

"He was a Viscount."

Victor’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"A Viscount..."

"Then something doesn’t add up."

Clara looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

Victor calmly began piecing everything together.

"A noble of that rank isn’t an ordinary traveler."

"He would possess trained guards."

"Reliable intelligence."

"And enough influence that common bandits would avoid provoking him."

He looked at Clara.

"So tell me..."

"How exactly was he killed by ordinary bandits?"

Clara took a slow breath.

"My father was a Sword Master."

"He believed he could make the journey safely."

"He still took two knights with him."

She paused.

"Only one survived."

"He returned and reported that Father... and the other knight... had both been killed."

Victor remained silent.

He simply listened.

"The surviving knight delivered Father’s belongings..."

"...and explained everything."

Clara lowered her eyes.

"That was the official story."

Victor didn’t immediately respond.

Instead...

A thoughtful smile slowly appeared on his face.

"So..."

"Let me see if I’ve understood correctly."

"A Sword Master."

"Accompanied by two fully equipped knights."

"Was ambushed by ordinary bandits."

"Both your father and one knight died."

"But the remaining knight escaped..."

"...and somehow lived long enough to report everything."

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