[She was a hero.]  
[She drove away a great darkness and helped usher in an age of peace.]  

[The crowd chanted the hero's name.]  
[They celebrated the pride of their city.]  

["""Vendell!"""]  
["""Vendell!"""]  

[Radolla Vendell.]  
[As she raised her hand, the crowd gathered in the square erupted in a passionate cheer.]  
[The world now knew her face and name.]  

[They knew Vendell.]  

[Under the hero’s great achievements and glory, Vendell and the city would enjoy eternal renown.]  
[The hero rejoiced, opening her arms to embrace the bright future that welcomed her.]  

[-Vendell…]

[A voice, not heard by ears but felt through every inch of her skin, spoke at that moment.]  

[-How majestic you look.]  
[-A great hero, indeed.]  
[-If only you could see yourself now.]  
[-The naïve fool who once didn’t know her place has disappeared.]  

[Vendell trembled, suppressing the discomfort etched into her very being.]  

[Nobody could know.]  
[Nobody could learn of her connection to this wretched being.]  

[-I wonder…]  
[-How would they react?]  
[-What would they think if they learned that this virtuous hero is, in truth, a cowardly child?]  
[-If they discovered that you claimed your glory by kissing the hand of a monster that the world despises?]  
[-If they knew you sold the future for the sake of your own success…]

[Silence!]  
[The hero screamed internally.]  

[With that, the voice vanished.]  

[The hero lived in glory, but never once could she shake off her fear.]  
[The fear that one day, all that she had built would crumble in an instant.]  

[...It never did happen, though.]  

[Eventually, everyone—even Radolla herself—began to take Vendell’s glory for granted.]  
[Then, one morning, joyous news spread across the continent.]  

[The Night of the Forest had ended.]  

[Night.]  
[It was a name reserved for the most terrifying beings on the continent.]  
[And the Night of the Forest was a being with whom Radolla Vendell had secretly made a pact.]  

[At that moment, Radolla recalled the long-forgotten dread but was also relieved.]  
[For this meant that Vendell’s glory would last forever.]

---

Rishir, the bastard child of the family head, had escaped from the Vendell estate—along with Lady Roera.  

Gerhen, pale-faced, reported his failure and the details of the incident.  

“I understand. You may leave now.”  

Alone in his room, Ildor Vendell sighed deeply. He rose from his seat and approached the window.  

From there, he gazed upon the estate’s garden—the statue that stood at its center.  

[In honor of the greatest Vendell, Radolla Vendell.]  

Vendell’s glory was the value that their great ancestor had built.  
It was their duty to continue that glory.  

This was the mindset every head of the Vendell family must possess.  

"I’ve… grown soft…"  

Ildor’s love for Roera was genuine.  
Even though she had defied him and brought great disappointment, his feelings for her remained unchanged.  

However, Ildor was the head of the Vendell family.  
Before being Roera’s father, he was a Vendell.  

The bastard and the young lady had lost their respect for the family head.  
They would learn it again.  

Rishir would proceed with his arranged marriage to Dintal, as planned, and Roera would come to value the family as she should.  

Ildor had just resolved himself to this course of action when—  

“INTRUDER!”

A voice cried urgently from outside.  
Ildor couldn’t believe his ears.  

An intruder?  
Here, in the Vendell estate?  
Who would dare?  

Without hesitation, Ildor left his office.  
Gerhen was already in the hall, speaking with soldiers of the estate.  

“F-Family head!”  
“Report.”  
“There’s an intruder!”  
“What’s their number?”  

The soldier hesitated, glancing nervously at Ildor before speaking.  

“The intruder… so far, only one has been identified.”  
“And their point of entry?”  
“They claim to have walked in through the front gate!”  
“And their current location?”  
“They’re in the garden… admiring the plants, apparently…”  
“The intruder also requested a meeting with the family head and stated they would politely wait in the garden until you agreed…”

Both Ildor and the reporting soldier wore expressions of utter confusion.  

“And, lastly… they appear to be a dark elf.”  

Upon hearing this, Ildor’s expression changed sharply.  
He immediately opened a window and leaped outside.  

Even from the fifth floor, his landing was soft as a feather.  
He then sprinted towards the garden like an arrow.  

Gerhen hurried after him, but by the time he landed, Ildor had already disappeared.  
With speed that left even the most elite knights looking inadequate, Ildor reached the garden in an instant.  

---

The dark elf stood in the garden, her purple robe—woven from a delicate, translucent material—radiating a mysterious elegance.  
Her silver hair, flowing down to her waist, resembled a waterfall of moonlight.  

And, of course, there were those pointed ears, stained with the color of a curse.  

Just as the soldiers had reported, the dark elf was strolling through the garden, looking around as if she owned the place.  

“Family head…!”

By now, the estate’s forces had gathered.  
Over ten knights were present, along with other soldiers—enough to fend off an invasion, let alone an intruder.  

“What are you doing, letting that filth trample on Vendell soil?”

Ildor’s fury was palpable. The soldiers understood his rage well.  
They, too, were deeply offended by the cursed being’s intrusion into their sacred Vendell.  

Still, there was a reason they hadn’t taken any action before Ildor’s arrival.  

“...”

Ildor’s gaze fell upon a statue in the garden.  
It was a topiary, sculpted in the likeness of one of Vendell’s knights—Morier.  

But Ildor immediately recognized that it wasn’t just a statue.  
It *was* Morier, completely covered in plants.  

"Morier…"  

“You’re right—Morier was their name, wasn’t it? Thank you for telling me. I tried asking them directly, but they refused to answer, you know? It made our conversation quite difficult.”  

The dark elf’s tone was casual, as though she were chatting with an old friend she had met during a leisurely walk.  

Her cheerful smile clashed horribly with the sight of Morier, standing frozen beneath the mass of plants.  

“Huff… huff…”  

Some of the trainees were trembling with fear, completely demoralized.  

“C-Curse… It’s the curse of the dark elves!”  

Some of the apprentice knights couldn’t even think of drawing their swords.  

“Pull yourself together, Humpton!”  

The knights barked at them.  

“Remember where you are! You stand in the presence of the family head!”  
"...!"  

The knights’ words, like a magic spell, snapped the trainees back to their senses.  
Their expressions transformed, and they drew their swords, pointing them at the dark elf.  

Now, there wasn’t a trace of fear left on their faces.  

The presence of the Vendell family head, a knight at the sixth tier, had that kind of power.  

The aura Ildor exuded dominated the entire area.  

“Stand down, all of you.”  

Ildor unsheathed his sword and assumed a ready stance.  
He sharpened his senses and scanned the surroundings.  

“You’re alone.”  
“My business here requires only myself.”  
“You think you can challenge Vendell on your own? Do you really believe you can take us all on?”  
“Hmm…”

The dark elf pointed at each of the figures standing before her—the family head, the knights, and then…  

She gestured towards three of the knights, including the family head, and shook her head.  

“Facing all of you… might be a bit difficult. But it shouldn’t be a problem, right? I’m not here to challenge or invade Vendell.”  

With a snap of her fingers, the plants that had covered Morier vanished.  

“Ah…”

Morier stumbled back toward her comrades, her eyes unfocused.  

“W-What have you done to her?”  
“Oh, I simply helped her relax. You know, white-flowered herbs are excellent for soothing the mind and body. I added a bit of visual flare to speed up the process, too. See? Now, here we are, having a calm conversation. A wonderful outcome, wouldn’t you agree? Let’s finish our business quickly, and we can all be on our way.”  
“You’re far too relaxed for your own good, dark elf. Do you really think I’ll let you leave, after you’ve dirtied Vendell soil without permission?”  
“Correction: I didn’t need permission.”  

Before Ildor could lash out, the dark elf pulled a scroll from her robes.  

"Vendell? It's time to fulfill a contract. As a representative, I’m here to collect the most valuable treasure of Vendell, as

 promised."  
"You cursed filth! How dare you speak such nonsense!"  
“Oh dear? You don’t remember? Or perhaps Radolla Vendell never told you?”  

Ildor’s anger grew, but the dark elf simply smiled and unraveled the scroll, showing it to him.  

With his heightened senses, Ildor could read the scroll’s contents from a distance.  

[I, Radolla Vendell, swear by the Night of the Forest.]  
[When the fortress I build with borrowed strength reaches its peak, I shall offer up the most precious treasure from that height.]

Ildor’s expression twisted into one of horror.  

The Night of the Forest.  
One of the Seven Most Terrifying Entities that once ruled the Age of Chaos.  

There was no point in talking anymore.  
No—it would be dangerous to continue.  

Ildor charged at the dark elf without hesitation.  

---

“Solath.”

A figure rose from the earth to intercept Ildor’s attack.  
It was a plant zombie, much like the one Rishir had destroyed with a single blow earlier.  

However, this one took the full brunt of Ildor’s strike and remained standing.  

Ildor put all his strength into his sword, but the blade became stuck in the zombie’s shoulder.  

“Family head!”  
“Support the family head!”  

The soldiers quickly formed a circle, surrounding the dark elf to put pressure on her.  

The dark elf chuckled and muttered a silly name under her breath.  

The plant zombie, now significantly larger than the last, raised its arm and slammed it into the ground with tremendous force.  

*BOOM!*  
A deafening crash.  

“ARGHHH!!!”  
“What is this?!”  

Screams erupted from the soldiers.  

The ground beneath them shattered, cracks spreading in every direction.  
From these cracks, countless vines shot up, entangling the soldiers’ limbs.  

With that, the dark elf turned her attention to Ildor once more.  

Ildor mustered all his strength and swung his sword, slicing diagonally from the zombie’s shoulder to its waist.  

Finally, the zombie’s body split in two, freeing Ildor’s blade.  
But before his eyes, the zombie reformed as if nothing had happened.  

Ildor realized that the plant zombies were akin to golems.  
He would need to destroy the core hidden within, or use overwhelming force to obliterate them entirely.  

Flames erupted around Ildor’s sword, burning brightly with concentrated mana.  

He was just about to unleash the final strike when—  

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.  

The dark elf began calling out names for each of the new plant zombies that emerged around them.  

Ildor was not amused.  

The first zombie, which had previously withstood Ildor’s full strike, now had several identical companions.  

The largest of them, the one named "Mum-Mum," had already subdued all the soldiers.  
It was now crouched, leisurely admiring the flowers on the ground.  

“…”

Ildor let out a bitter laugh, his fighting spirit crumbling.  

“You… who *are* you?”  

The once-steely gaze of the knight had vanished.  
Ildor’s eyes now wavered with doubt as he stared at the dark elf.  

She responded with the same lively smile she had worn all along.  

“As I said, I’m merely a representative, here on behalf of the Night of the Forest.”  

It was a lie, clear as day.  
But Ildor no longer had the courage to challenge her on it.  

“So, Vendell? What will you do now?”  

The dark elf stepped closer.  
Ildor tried to step back, but vines rose from the ground, binding his movement.  

“...What do you want?”  
“I’ve already told you~”  

The dark elf playfully lamented before leaning in to whisper in Ildor’s ear.  

“Do you want the world to know the truth, Vendell? That your great ancestor was, in fact, a fraud? That your true legacy isn’t built on honor, but on a bargain with one of the most terrible beings in history?”  
“That’s…”  

Ildor’s despair stemmed not only from the force arrayed against him.  

He could sense the power contained within the scroll.  
Somehow, part of the dark elf’s strength came from that contract.  

She was, indeed, a representative.  
And Vendell had truly been bound by that contract.  

The great ancestor, Radolla Vendell, had sought power from one of the Seven Terrors.  
She had hidden this fact and posed as a hero of honor.  

“Hmm…”

The dark elf suddenly gazed directly at Ildor.  
But strangely, Ildor didn’t feel as though she was truly seeing him.  

Although she looked right at him, it was as if she was searching for someone else.  

Finally, she let out a sigh of relief.  

“Good… you look nothing like them.”  

The dark elf, now in high spirits for some reason, handed the scroll to Ildor.  

“Let’s not make this any more complicated. Like I said, I’m just the representative. I could reveal your dirty secrets, but if you give me what I want, there’s no need for that.”  
“...What do you want?”  
“As I mentioned, I’ll be taking the most precious thing in Vendell. In this case, it’s a boy named Rishir.”  
“...!”  

Ildor’s eyes widened in shock.  
His expression turned to one of utter disbelief.  

“Very well. I’ll agree to your demand.”  

Relief washed over him.  

Ildor had seen new potential in Rishir.  
He saw the value Rishir could bring to the family.  

But if this resolved the present crisis, that potential and value would have to be forfeited.  

“…”

For a moment, the dark elf’s lively smile faded as she looked at Ildor.  

---

Pamon, the dark elf, was disgusted by Ildor’s reaction.  

When she asked for Vendell’s most precious treasure and named Rishir, she expected some resistance.  

But Ildor’s expression was a mixture of indifference and relief.  

It made her want to take something that *he* personally valued, instead of what was most precious by her own standards.  

‘No,’ she reminded herself.  
It was foolish to let such a weak human provoke her.  

Still, Pamon didn’t like Ildor at all.  
That only strengthened her resolve to take Rishir away from him.  

She offered the scroll, and a thorned vine pricked Ildor’s thumb, drawing blood.  

After a moment’s hesitation, Ildor pressed his bloodied thumb to the scroll.  

“Alright then, Rishir is now officially—wait, what?”  

Pamon hastily checked the scroll.  

“Oh dear, oh dear.”  

She covered her mouth, laughing gleefully.  

“You fools. You really should’ve kept a better eye on things.”  
“What…?”  

Despite Ildor’s thumbprint, the contract remained unfulfilled.  

Rishir.  
He was no longer considered Vendell’s property.  

The secret deal between the family head and the bastard.  
If Rishir won the duel, he would be allowed to leave the family.  

That simple promise—made lightly because it involved a bastard—had now taken effect.  

"...!"  

Ildor’s eyes widened in realization.  

“W-Wait! Give me some time—”  
“Nope~ I’m afraid I’m a busy person. Since you’ve already signed, I’ll just choose what I want myself.”  
“What do you— MMPH!”  

A vine gagged Ildor as Pamon left the Vendell estate with a spring in her step.  

She had no further business there.

---

No one pursued her.  

“Family head. About Lady Roera and the situation with the young lord…”  
“Forget it.”  
“...What?”  
“Forget everything that happened today.”  

There would be no pursuit of the dark elf.  
Nor would there be any attempt to bring back the bastard and the young lady who had left the estate.  

Ildor struggled to forget everything that had occurred.  

He prayed that the bastard and his daughter, who had left with the cursed dark elf, would never return.  
And that nothing more would come of this—just as his honored ancestor had once wished.  

---

The price of the promise had finally come to collect from Vendell.  

It was ruin.  

And now that it had arrived, it would spread quickly throughout the family, just as overdue consequences often did.

---

Hours after leaving the Vendell estate, Rishir met with Pamon at the agreed location.  

She greeted him with an unexpected offer.  

“So, my new apprentice, what do you want?”  
"...Huh?"