KFBRV Ch 20
- Jan 15
- 5 min read
Updated: Feb 5
Moonlight filtered through the window, casting a pale glow across the room.
Odette lay on the pristine white bed in a thin chemise. After two days of battling a grueling fever, her temperature had finally returned to normal, but she was still drenched in cold sweat.
From the soft, rhythmic whimpers escaping her lips, she was clearly trapped in a nightmare.
Zion let out a long, weary sigh. Only now, watching the rise and fall of her chest, did it truly sink in that she was alive. When he had found her collapsed on the floor two days ago, she had looked like a bloodless corpse.
He had originally come just to tell her he had found information regarding her biological parents. He hadn't expected to end up standing in her room every dawn like a fool, terrified that he might find a body instead of a patient.
What a painfully bothersome woman.
Irritation flared in his violet eyes.
She had spoken so confidently about her grand plans for revenge; if she was so sharp, she should have at least taken care of her own body. How did she expect to achieve anything in this state? It was pathetic.
He pressed a hand to his forehead. The image of the horrific burn on her leg, which he'd seen while carrying her to the bed, remained burned into his mind.
Not a single person in this entire mansion paid attention to the fact that she was in this condition.
It wasn't hard to guess how her path of revenge would go. Since she had nothing, she would likely keep grinding her own life down to get what she wanted.
I've always wanted her to disappear, so why does it irritate me so much to see her breaking?
Suddenly, Odette's eyes snapped open. Her gaze was eerily clear, staring directly at him with an intensity that shouldn't have been possible for someone just waking up.
He felt his breath hitch. Her teal eyes were like bottomless lakes—so clear they almost looked hollow.
[Odette] "Did you catch them?"
Her question was abrupt. Zion froze.
Where did her polite honorifics go?
He couldn't look away; he was captivated by her fragility. She looked like a leaf on the verge of falling, a lost child who realized she'd been abandoned, or someone standing on the very edge of a cliff.
Despite the severe burn, she showed no sign of pain. She looked like someone far too accustomed to suffering.
[Odette] "Answer me, Zion. Is there no escape now?"
His mind felt sluggish. He assumed she was talking about the criminal organizations linked to the Albrecht family's business. He answered her with a strange, quiet obedience.
[Zion] "They are caught. Completely. There is no way out."
Odette's expression turned desolate. A faint shimmer of moisture appeared in her eyes, but she didn't let the tears fall.
He felt his heart drop. He recognized that look. It was the same expression his mother had worn right before her death—the look of someone betrayed and stripped of everything.
[Odette] "I wanted to be loved... just once."
The whisper wasn't a plea; it sounded like a final will.
His brow furrowed. He hadn't known this sharp, wicked woman was capable of sounding so exhausted. And her gaze—it was as if he were the Grim Reaper come to collect her soul.
[Odette] "Dump my body in the desert. I don't want to be hated even after I'm dead. None of you would want to carry my corpse anyway."
She's writing her own will now.
Finally, he found his breath.
She's confusing her dreams with reality.
It was common after such a high fever. Realizing it was just sleep talk, he felt ridiculous for being so shaken.
[Zion] "I don't hate you that much."
He tossed the words out casually. He disliked her, of course, but there was no point in being cruel to a dreaming woman.
Besides, if she's going to disappear on her own, do I really have to hate her corpse too?
His train of thought came to a screeching halt. A bright, innocent smile suddenly spread across Odette's face—a smile full of the pure happiness of an eighteen-year-old girl.
[Odette] "I'm so happy. That is the warmest thing anyone has ever said to me."
His face stiffened like a rusted machine. It was a habit he had whenever he was utterly blindsided.
[Odette] "Is it okay to say this? I've actually admired you all for a very long time. If that offends you, I'll take it back."
Her smile remained radiant, full of genuine emotion that made his chest ache.
Why do I feel like I just heard a confession of love? I only said I wouldn't hate her corpse. How can she call that the "warmest" thing she's ever heard?
His face turned cold to hide his inner turmoil. His thoughts felt like water slipping through his fingers.
[Odette] "Though... none of that matters now."
The innocence in her smile faded back into sadness.
He could only stare at her, paralyzed. Her teal eyes closed again, leaving only the sound of her soft breathing in the quiet room.
Finally, his brain began to function again.
...Dammit.
He muttered a curse he usually considered beneath him.
Something felt terribly wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He fled the room as if escaping a fire.
What was that? What just happened?
He told himself he hated her. That wouldn't change.
The fact that her life had been a series of abuses, or that her "evil deeds" were actually the work of her family, didn't erase three years of resentment.
He had swallowed handfuls of suppressants just to deal with the pain her presence caused. To a Transcendent, she was still the perpetrator.
I hate her.
It was supposed to be easy. He just had to remember the hellish pain she brought him. He couldn't afford to feel these "soft" emotions. His instincts as a "Divine Beast" screamed at him to stay away.
He walked faster, running from the "stench" of his own rising feelings.
At 4:00 AM, amidst a light drizzle, she woke up for real. She looked around the room, dazed, before letting out a sigh of relief.
I thought Zion caught me... it was just a dream.
It had been three years since she'd dreamed of anything other than those heart-shaped wasps.
Why did her first "normal" dream have to be a nightmare about being hunted by a Transcendent?
She shuddered, lit a candle on her nightstand, and waited for her heart to stop racing.
By the candlelight, she noticed a high-quality postcard sitting on her table, bearing the Kleist seal. She frowned as she looked at the elegant, loopy handwriting.
He knows I can't read, yet he sends this. He really has no consideration at all.
The only thing she could make out was a single number with far too many zeros attached to it.
I've already convinced Zion I'm illiterate, so I don't need to keep this up forever. I should start studying soon.
But first, she had a more pressing matter. She reached for the necklace Zion had given her. It was a piece of jewelry Charlotte only received at the very end of "Zion's Route" in the original game.
He probably only knows its summoning function.
If it were just a tracker, she would have refused it. But this necklace had another hidden power—one she desperately needed.
She opened the locket, bit her fingertip, and let a single drop of blood fall onto the watch face inside.
The jewelry began to hum, glowing with a brilliant, blinding white light.
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