Sustaining The King's Life 135 Marionette In The Dungeon

Faustina held on to Chast.i.ty's words before she was teleported back to the academy. Amongst the nine pa.s.sers of the race, half were drowned with hate. They were talking about Chast.i.ty being only a viscount's daughter and being full of herself. Words like poison came out of their mouths with a bitter pang. They didn't like the fact that Chast.i.ty got a free pa.s.s by defeating the hermit. 

Shortly after several instructions the same as earlier, magical circles appeared individually beneath them. 

"We are transporting all of you to different starting points." Said moderator Yusha. "And from that point on, you can decide whether you want to team with the first batch, form a team of your own, OR go solo."

Moderator Yusha and the other teachers began to fade away as the magic circle started to illuminate so brightly from below.

"May the firefly guide you to your chosen paths, our future students!"

**

The Dark Castle.

From the start, it looked like a fortress abandoned long before by its inhabitants. It looked straight out of a gothic, horror novel. But now, even those descriptions did not give it justice. Faustina opened her eyes only to see herself in the midst of a hallway—a corridor with framed paintings ranging from portraits to landscapes of war. The paintings composed of red and darker hues, resembling dried blood. The path ahead was dark, with only dimly-lit torches on the sides serving as the illumination in such a sequestered s.p.a.ce.

Faustina held her staff firmly. She regained a bit of energy from resting, but her arms were still sore from the spell she casted earlier. Although her nerves aren't much visible now, their colors were standing out, like roots spreading inside a transparent container. 

"Lumos."

The broken gem around her staff lit up like a blue moon amidst the darkness. Faustina summoned the map spell. 'Thank goodness they provided a map,' she murmured. Faustina found out she was located in the right-wing of the dark castle where the guest chambers are located. She then swiped her hand to close the hologram map and then proceeded to amble forward.

The paintings were unkempt; some ripped, dirtied, and broken, and crooked. Faustina stopped by one of the paintings. It was larger than the rest, but it wasn't hanging by the walls. It was resting on the side of the large, gla.s.s pane—a lonely family portrait that is long abandoned.

In that portrait was a picture of five people. A large, bulky man with blond hair and purple eyes sitting on a throne, wearing a golden crown and clothed in most elaborate clothing. Faustina was quick on the uptake. Obviously, this was the king. And if her speculations were right, this is the 'Undead king' back when he was alive. Her brown eyes then shifted to the woman on his side. She had beautiful red hair and equally beautiful red eyes. She also wore a crown and held a scepter—this looked like a queen. 

And looking like two young men and women below was the splitting image of the king and queen. The two looked like they were the king and queen's children, the princess, and the prince. And then . . . "who's this?"

On the other side of the king was a woman wearing black and white clothing familiar even with Faustina. It was the clothes of a maid. Her hands were draped to the king's shoulder. 

"Her face . . ."

Her face was the only one ripped and torn to shreds amongst all of them. Faustina tilted her head. How in the world is a maid in a portrait? 

SLAM!

The door from the corridor ahead closed into a loud slam, which made Faustina flinch in response. 

"What's that?" 

Faustina sauntered forward, her eyes pinned only ahead. Every step was reverberating across the vast. The portrait from earlier still bothered her, but the slam from the door shutting just a few meters away from her made Faustina conclude that maybe there was someone who ended up in that room as a starting point. 

"Maybe I could team up with them . . ." Faustina mumbled to herself.

And as Faustina continued to saunter forward—ambling to the door, getting closer and closer—she feels a strange sensation. The hairs on her nape stood in alert, like that of a cat sensing danger. She used to have these feelings before, similar to that when she was in the cabin. 

A strange feeling of having eyes pinned to her. 

She felt as if she was being observed by someone. It was different from earlier; she was aware that the professors were observing them. But this time, it felt as if in that very room, someone was looking at her. 

Running down Faustina's spine was a shiver as she felt gooseb.u.mps occupying her body. The door was now in front of her—and in the turn of a k.n.o.b, she can find out who ended up inside the room.

"Should I just wait?" Faustina asked herself. "I probably should. It's safer to wait, after all."

'Faustina . . .' a voice from inside the door. 'help.'

Faustina blinked. That voice . . . 

"Claire?"

There's no mistaking it. That voice belonged to Claire!

'Faustina . . . help me . . . I'm trapped here!'

And that was enough for Faustina to turn the k.n.o.b. She took a deep breath, stepping inside the room. 

"Claire!"

However, instead of Claire, it was a single chair in a room tinged with red that welcomed Faustina. The door behind her shut tight, and then she heard a lock turning. 

'Faustina . . . help me . . .'

The voice was coming from somewhere. Faustina turned her head left, and then right, but there was no one in the room. But that voice was surely Claire's. Is she trapped somewhere? But WHERE was she? 

"Faus-tina," 

A whisper directly in Faustina's left ear made her stumble to her right. And then before she could even react, a familiar ent.i.ty appeared before her. 

"H-how . . ."

Faustina parted her lips as she sees a being that she had once encountered. A doll that is created by the manifestation of the dark arts—

A warlock's puppet,

. . . a marionette!

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