Kaiden never came.
Not after the first toll, nor even by the third. Bran and Sylvan remained in the corridor near Mirai’s room, waiting for him, but as the moments passed, their patience gave way to terror.
Did they return to his room to check on him?
No. They were simply too afraid to check on him and risk encountering the Killer instead, so they returned to their rooms convinced that neither of them was the Killer and that, by the time they reached their rooms, the Killer had most likely already killed Kaiden somehow.
Had they been a little braver, they would have seen Ravian returning to his own room, which lay only dozens of meters from the room they had been watching. But that no longer mattered; what had happened could not be undone.
Following Kaiden’s murder on the second night, Sylvan’s and Bran’s suspicions began to shift toward the other participants; Bran usually ruled Ravian out, but Sylvan had a gut feeling that Ravian was dangerous—far more dangerous than he appeared.
He did not know why he felt that way. Whenever he looked at Ravian, a strange feeling urged him to hide.
But Sylvan was a noble in the City of the Black Rose, the capital of the Viera Empire. How could he be afraid of someone at the mere sight of him?
Even so, whenever he tried to speak with Ravian or Ravian himself spoke to him, Sylvan felt as though he were facing something far greater than himself—far, far greater. That feeling never stopped haunting him, and he hated it intensely.
That was why, ever since Talia’s false accusation on the morning of the third day, Sylvan had doubted Ravian’s earlier claim that summoning him away had been an act of rescue, for Sylvan had another theory.
What if Ravian was the Killer, had selected his target beforehand, knew that Talia would accuse Mirai because her role naturally drew suspicion, and had therefore decided to eliminate a third participant—Talia—through the trial rather than by conventional murder? That would explain why he had deliberately allowed Talia to believe that Sylvan had gone with Mirai and Aldric to meet Kaiden, when Ravian himself had summoned Sylvan away at that exact, critical moment.
Sylvan continued staring at the floor beneath him, his eyes impossibly wide.
’No, no, no. That’s impossible.’ Sylvan shook his head rapidly.
’No normal person could possibly plan something with such precision without making even a single error in judgment,’ Sylvan thought with a wry smile. ’It seems getting involved in politics really can make a person overly suspicious.’
Sylvan was chuckling quietly to himself when a sudden creak came from behind him.
Creak.
Sylvan shot to his feet the instant he heard it.
His eyes widened as he saw the door to his room standing wide open before him. The door—the only thing protecting him at night by keeping the Killer out of his room—now stood open as though it were utterly worthless.
"What the hell is this?!" Sylvan shouted into the empty space before him.
The door to his room was wide open, and a key identical to his own had been inserted into its keyhole.
Sylvan’s eyes widened even further.
’A key? How? Where did it come from?’ he thought in terror as he rushed toward the door.
He slowed before reaching the doorway; to close it, he would have to extend his hand outside the room and pull the door shut.
Sylvan crept forward those last few steps without making a sound, feeling as though his heart might leap from his chest at any moment.
When he reached the threshold, however, he stopped, frozen in place and unable to take another step because of fear.
The third toll could sound at any moment, and it was not difficult to guess what was happening to him.
For a moment, it occurred to him not to close the door or move any closer. Why not hide somewhere in the room and wait out the few remaining seconds before the third toll, trying not to communicate with the son of a bitch who had targeted him today, whoever he was?
Sylvan began backing away across the carpeted floor instead of moving closer to the door.
Then he glanced at his bed behind him.
’Should I hide under the bed?’ Sylvan thought as he immediately returned his gaze to the door, only for his breath to catch, leaving him unable to utter a word or even breathe normally.
A white-haired young man stood on the threshold, his crimson eyes gleaming even in the darkness as he watched Sylvan with a cold, murderous gaze, without the slightest trace of a smile on his face.
Tears immediately welled in Sylvan’s eyes from sheer terror as he realized his fate.
Then Ravian’s distinctive arrogant smile returned to his face.
"Yo! Sylvan, why are you leaving the door to your room open like this in the middle of the night?" Ravian said.
"Aren’t you afraid the Killer might come looking for you, man?"
At Ravian’s mocking words, Sylvan could no longer restrain himself.
He charged toward Ravian, tears of resignation glittering in his eyes.
"I’ll at least land one blow before I die," Sylvan said as he closed the distance and swung his fist at Ravian’s face.
Then—
Riiing!
The third toll of the Black Bell rang out, heralding nightfall.
At the same instant, pale mirage mist seeped out of the walls and gathered before every surviving participant, shaping itself into the familiar translucent notification.
{The third night has begun.}
{Survive until the White Bell sounds.}
The words hovered in the darkness for several long seconds. They offered neither guidance nor comfort, merely announcing the facts with the same cold indifference the nightmare had shown since the participants first entered the palace. Then the letters blurred, their edges dissolving into thin strands of mist that slowly scattered through the corridors.
The final echo of the Black Bell faded with them. Once it disappeared, Evernight Palace fell into a silence so complete that even the rain beating against its countless windows seemed distant, as though the palace had sealed itself away from the rest of the world until dawn.
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