Chapter 17.
The Woman of Haran
Until I was eight years old, I lived with my mother in Orlan Village, one of the worst slums in the capital of the Haran Empire.
It was a place where drunkards beat their wives and children all day long, smashing bottles and shouting obscenities without end. In this hellish place, my mother, Yurahel, did whatever menial work she could for the nobles to make ends meet.
But her beauty was a curse in that environment. Not only the drunks but even the scoundrels from proper noble families had their eyes on her.
No matter how sweet their words or how lavish their gifts, my mother never yielded. Eventually, they turned to violence. To protect herself, she always carried a sharp dagger.
When I was five, she once came home severely beaten.
A baron—unmarried and alone—had ambushed her in a back alley after work, attempting to assault her. In the struggle, she cut off one of his fingers with her dagger.
As punishment for harming a noble, she was brutally beaten.
“Lea, I’m okay. So don’t cry,” she said, comforting me even as her eyes were swollen shut and her lips cracked open.
That day, I felt a sorrow and rage too deep to contain. A hot surge of energy roared from my lower belly, and an intense current sparked from my right hand.
“Mom, my hand… my hand!!”
“Lea!!”
As my right hand moved on its own and touched my mother’s face, a blinding light burst from my fingertips.
The heat within me flowed into my hand and out into her. I vomited blood and collapsed unconscious.
“Lea, Lea. Can you hear me?”
“Mom…?”
When I woke the next day, my mother was by my bedside, tightly holding my hand.
All her bruises and injuries from the beating had vanished. Her face was smooth and clear like glass.
I felt relieved—but her violet eyes looked unbearably sad.
“Your healing power has begun to awaken. Don’t worry. I’ll protect you so the High Temple doesn’t find out.”
I was too dazed to understand what she meant. All I knew was that she said she’d protect me, and that was enough to let me fall back asleep.
For a week afterward, I had to drink a mysterious sweet liquid my mother made.
“Mmm~ so good.”
I licked the bowl clean.
“Mom, can I drink this again tomorrow?”
“No. There’s no need anymore. It’s sealed well.”
I didn’t understand what she meant, but her eyes were so sad that I couldn’t ask.
That strange flow of energy I felt that night never came back.
After my mother passed away, the Marquis of Uzkal took me in. Every year, he checked me for signs of change, but nothing ever happened. So I never had to lie.
As I grew older, I began to suspect the truth: for some reason, my mother had sealed my power.
But now—alone in the Queen’s bedchamber in the pre-dawn hours—that power had returned.
A burning heat swirled in my belly, and a tingling current sparked from my fingertips. It wouldn’t leave me alone.
I tossed and turned in pain until I finally sat up. My right hand glowed with a soft, bright light.
It moved on its own to touch my left palm. The light flowed from one hand to the other.
The heat inside me surged up, traveling from my belly, through my right hand, into my left.
And then, the light disappeared.
I felt dizzy, but I focused and looked at my left palm.
The wound I had carved with a fruit knife to mark the wedding night—was gone.
Mik had licked the bleeding cut to stop it, but there had definitely been a scar. Now, there was nothing.
I sat staring at my hands until dawn.
* * *
“Miklok, Your Highness, it’s over now.”
William approached Miklok after eliminating the last of the Maon Clan’s resistance.
Covered in demonic blood from head to toe, William looked so terrifying even his comrades shuddered.
Miklok smirked.
“Honestly, I think people confuse you with me, Will. That’s why they call me ‘the blood fiend’ or whatever.”
William only shrugged, wiping blood from his face with one hand—making his face look even more menacing—but he didn’t seem to care.
Soon, Ralph and Freddy returned after chasing the last of the fleeing demons.
“Your Highness, it’s done.”
“Any injuries?”
“Of course not. We’ve been hunting drunkards who partied for five days straight. If anyone got hurt doing that, it’d be a disgrace to our order!”
Freddy laughed, and even Ralph—who usually argued with Freddy—nodded in agreement.
The hundred knights regrouped. All were drenched in blood—though mostly not their own.
Thanks to a well-planned ambush, there were no unnecessary casualties. After checking each knight, Miklok turned to William.
“Still no sign of him?”
“No. I don’t think he was here during the festival.”
William bowed his head apologetically. The Maon heir—the next clan chief—hadn’t been found.
The Maon chief had cursed the Kingdom of Fritan with his dying breath, claiming his heir would surely avenge him.
“Anyone ever seen the Maon heir before?”
Miklok looked around, but the knights exchanged uneasy glances. Ralph spoke up quietly.
“The chief never brought the heir. He said the child was too young, but rumors claimed the heir was so gifted the chief feared him.”
“Even if he’s alive, what can a child do alone? Don’t worry,” Freddy said with a light laugh.
“Best to eliminate all threats, but we do what we can. Burn the hideout, then withdraw to the Toll Valley.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
The Fritan knights followed orders. By midday, every trace of the Maon Clan was erased.
The legend of the bloodthirsty King Miklok and his Fritan knights would grow even darker.
The tyrant who slaughtered his own maternal family—and now the Maon Clan too. It was now understood: to cross the King of Fritan was to vanish from the world entirely.
Word of this terror would spread faster than wind—not only among demons and monsters of the north, but among humans too.
And just like that, Miklok and his knights withdrew swiftly from the Maon lands.
* * *
“Your Majesty, did you sleep well?”
Millie entered my bedroom with a basin of water, then gasped.
“Your face! You look exhausted. Didn’t you sleep at all?”
She ran to the windows and flung open the curtains. Sunlight poured in.
“Millie, look at my hand.”
“My hand?”
I held out my left hand. Millie examined it carefully, front and back.
“There’s nothing wrong.”
“Exactly. That’s what’s strange.”
Millie looked confused.
“I had a knife wound on this hand yesterday. But it vanished overnight.”
“How is that possible?”
“I think… I think I did it.”
“What? You mean… your healing power came back?”
Millie, the only person who knew my secret, immediately understood.
“Go find me a fruit knife.”
Millie stared but obeyed, returning with a knife.
“What are you going to do?”
“I need to check if my power really returned. If it did, I can heal a new wound.”
But before the blade touched my skin, Millie grabbed my wrist.
“Let me do it instead!”
She yanked my arm, twisting the knife, and it sliced deep into her wrist.
“Millie!!!”
Panicked, I pressed down to stop the bleeding.
Her blood ran through my fingers, and my heart pounded like it would burst.
“Oh no, Millie. I’ll get a doctor!”
As I tried to stand, she placed her other hand gently on mine.
“Your Majesty… If your healing power is back, please heal me.”
“Millie… you really believe me?”
“Of course. I believe in you.”
Her eyes were full of trust. I was overwhelmed.
I focused on her wound. The heat rose again in my belly, the current sparked in my right hand, and light gathered at my fingertips.
My hand moved on its own to her wound, and the light flowed quickly into her.
“Oh my gosh, Your Majesty!!!”
Just as I grew dizzy, I heard Millie’s astonished voice.
“The wound… it’s gone!”
Her voice faded as I collapsed.
* * *
“WAAAHOOOOOOO!!!!”
Arriving at Toll Valley, the Fritan knights—still soaked in blood—screamed and jumped straight into the water.
Still armed and armored, they dove in, turning the water dark with blood.
Miklok and William stood under the crashing waterfall. The torrent washed the blood from their bodies.
“Fighting before winter has its perks,” William said.
“True. Soon everything’ll freeze solid. No washing up then.”
Ahead of them, Ralph and Freddy were bathing together—as always. They bickered constantly, but never went without each other.
As they scrubbed the blood from each other’s backs, Ralph pulled a white scarf from his tunic and wiped his face.
Freddy’s eyes widened and he snatched it.
“Where’d this come from? You didn’t have this before! Did Mom give it to just you?”
“Of course not.”
Ralph smirked and snatched it back.
“Then Amy? No way. Our sweet little angel wouldn’t just give you something and not me!”
“Obviously. I didn’t get this from family.”
“Then who?”
Freddy glared, but Ralph grinned playfully.
“From a woman of Haran.”
“WHAT?!”
This time, the furious voice didn’t come from Freddy—but from behind him. Two voices, in fact.
Startled, Ralph and Freddy turned around to see Miklok and William glaring at Ralph from under the waterfall, eyes blazing.
