IPBD CHAPTER 19

There was no murderous intent in the air.

 

As Kirzen studied the man, trying to discern his identity, the stranger deliberately adopted a grave expression and continued speaking.

 

“Answer me. This is a very important matter.”

 

“Important matter?”

 

Kirzen frowned and repeated the question.

 

The man pulled a note from his inner coat pocket and extended it.

 

“I’m Dr. Rodin. I occasionally look after Miss Emilina. I found this outside the house.”

 

Having introduced himself, Rodin wiped his face with his hands as he spoke.

 

Kirzen accepted the note with a stiff expression.

 

A bad feeling was creeping up on him.

 

And such premonitions had never been wrong before.

 

The note seemed enchanted with recipient magic—a green arrow was pointing directly at him.

 

Meaning, he was the intended recipient.

 

“If you want the girl back, come alone.”

 

The hastily scrawled message was short and to the point.

 

Once the designated recipient had read it, the bright green glow faded.

 

Kirzen’s fingers trembled as he clutched his chest.

 

An uncontrollable wave of unease washed over him.

 

No matter the sender’s intentions, one thing was clear:

 

Someone targeting him had taken Emilina.

 

The doctor’s troubled expression confirmed it couldn’t be denied.

 

Emilina’s lingering scent in the room was already too faint.

 

Kirzen was overcome with despair.

 

The ominous feeling he’d had in his nightmare—the one that had warned him not to let her go—had come true.

 

He couldn’t stop her, and now this had happened.

 

Kirzen had no choice but to understand Rodin’s actions.

 

The doctor suspected him.

 

And as Kirzen guessed, Rodin was certain Emilina’s abduction was connected to the boy before him.

 

“Miss Emilina hasn’t returned home since last night. Does this… have something to do with you?”

 

At Rodin’s uneasy question, Kirzen couldn’t bring himself to say yes.

 

He only bit his lip in silence.

 

Rodin pressed his fingers to his forehead at Kirzen’s reaction.

 

Silence meant affirmation, and his mind was reeling.

 

‘Just who is this boy?’

 

He had come to the Klein residence because of the suspicious note pointing to it.

 

At first, he’d dismissed it as someone’s cruel prank.

 

But the moment he heard Emilina was missing, Rodin had no choice but to accept it.

 

This was no simple prank.

 

He knew this was serious.

 

Yet Rodin didn’t immediately inform the Klein couple.

 

Frankly, he hesitated to even say the word “abduction.”

 

He was cautious, worried about how they might react.

 

They doted on Emilina so much… Rodin clenched his eyes shut.

 

Then—

 

The sound of hurried footsteps and hushed voices reached them.

“There’s much I can’t explain… but I swear I’ll bring her back safely.”  

 

*I swear it.* The quiet vow made Rodin open his eyes.  

 

The boy now stood by the window, moving with unnatural grace as he flung it open and perched on the sill.  

 

Rodin shot to his feet. “Wait! What are you—you can’t possibly mean to jump—”  

 

“Yes.”  

 

The doctor paled at his firm response. “Absolutely not! You’re still recovering! Get down this instant!”  

 

Whatever this boy was, he remained a patient. Rodin couldn’t allow such recklessness.  

 

But Kirzen didn’t waver. “There’s no time. I’ll return soon.”  

 

Without hesitation, he leapt.  

 

The movement happened faster than human eyes could track. Rodin stared dumbfounded at the empty windowsill where only echoes of darkness remained.  

 

* * *  

 

Kirzen raced toward Viscount Haire’s estate.  

 

He knew he couldn’t rescue Emilina alone.  

 

Though the kidnappers demanded solitude, he wouldn’t gamble with her life. If they’d resorted to cowardice, they’d surely harm her.  

 

Frustration burned through him—he was still a child, his powers underdeveloped against prepared opponents. For Emilina’s safety, he needed allies.  

 

*Hold on, noona. I’m coming.*  

 

His grip tightened around the crumpled note. His heartbeat stuttered irregularly, each skipped thump feeding his dread of what might be happening to her.  

 

Then he remembered the knight-captain’s visit days earlier:  

 

*”Content with this false peace? You’ll soon regret it.”*  

*”Good. I’ve no interest in serving a cowardly lord.”*  

*”When you tire of wallowing, seek Viscount Haire.”*  

 

At the time, Kirzen had dismissed the taunts. Now he cursed his arrogance. He should’ve heeded the warning, should’ve let Emilina go. His selfish desire to keep her close had ensnared her instead.  

 

*Damn it all!*  

 

He gritted his teeth hard enough to taste blood.  

 

The sun dipped below the horizon as he ran, shadows stretching like grasping fingers across the land. By the time full darkness swallowed the world, Kirzen’s form had dissolved into it completely—a living shadow streaking toward vengeance.

At that very moment, Viscount Haire’s estate was already entertaining an unexpected guest.

 

Kubad set down a tea tray with deliberate calm. “You’ve come unannounced.”

 

“A social call,” the visitor replied, shrugging before lifting a porcelain cup. His nonchalance made Kubad exhale sharply through his nose.

 

“Sir Marcus.”

 

“Speak your mind.”

 

“Then I’ll ask plainly—how much longer must we wait?”

 

“Hmm. It seems the time isn’t yet ripe.”

 

Kubad’s brow furrowed at  Heinkel’s infuriating smirk. “Enough games. You know there are limits to how long we can stall the Count.”

 

At the very least, you could tell us his whereabouts so we can prepare.

 

 Heinkel chuckled at Kubad’s irritated tone. “Even if I told you, it wouldn’t change anything.”

 

“Don’t be so certain. You can’t predict every outcome.”

 

“Hmm. Countermeasures, you say…”  Heinkel stroked his chin with mock solemnity, though his eyes betrayed no intention of sharing.

 

Kubad suppressed a groan. The man wouldn’t even reveal basic information, let alone cooperate. Trying to decipher his motives was giving Kubad a headache.

 

Then—

 

Knock. Knock.

 

A precise rapping at the study door.

 

“Excuse me.” Kubad strode to answer it, finding the head butler standing stiffly with strained professionalism. Behind him, shadows pooled unnaturally in the hallway—as if darkness itself had taken solid form.

 

The butler’s whisper was barely audible:

 

“Sir… there’s a child at the gates. He says…” A nervous swallow. “He says he’s come to collect his debt.”

 

Kubad’s blood ran cold. Only one being in this world would dare phrase it thus.

 

He turned slowly back to  Heinkel, whose smirk had vanished. The knight-captain’s teacup hit the saucer with a sharp clink as he rose, all pretense of amusement gone.

 

“Ah.”  Heinkel adjusted his gloves with sudden intensity. “That timing, I could never predict.”