Vol 1 Chapter 4: In Unburned Hands

When Power is Insulted by Roses

POV: The Knights

The sun shone brightly that afternoon, but its light did not feel warm but rather like the eyes of the sky staring sharply at the shame of power displayed in the middle of the square.

A line of royal knights rode in on white horses, their armor gleaming, the royal banners flying. But there was no applause. No shouts of victory. Only the silent gazes of the people who watched the defenders of power come not to mourn, but to cover up the truth that had been crucified.

“We will cleanse this place. No matter how cruel the murderer is, we must not let the people think that the system has lost.”

Said one of the knight captains with a lopsided smile and a voice full of contempt.

A knight stepped forward. He drew his sword and tried to cut the blood rose vines that were wrapped around Gilles de Vire’s body. However… the rose was no ordinary plant.

The vines were throbbing. Wriggling slowly…as if recognizing who was trying to touch them.
And in the silence of the afternoon—
the rose whispered, silently, but directly heard in the soul:

“I kill the guilty…not the pretenders.”

Gilles’ body was finally lowered—with difficulty. Wrapped in a white cloth. Dragged like a wreck. But… the truth had not been buried.

A piece of paper with thorns hung from the tip of the rose.
A list of sins.
Black writing on ashes, the ink like the frozen blood of a belated confession.

A knight tried to take it.
A hand reached out…
But suddenly—
jerk.
His skin blistered.

“Aaarrgh!! What is this!? Magic?!”

He bit his lip. His voice was muffled. Arms trembled from the unnatural burning.

“Weak,” another knight muttered. He stepped forward, full of ego and noble training.

But when his fingers touched the paper of sins, his skin melted like wax in a curse.

His scream echoed through the houses. But no one helped.
One by one they tried. Elite knights. Commanders of royal blood. War veterans who had slain monsters in the north.

But each hand…
was punished.

It was as if the world itself was saying:

“You are not worthy to touch the truth you have covered up.”

One of them, sitting with swollen hands, whispered:

“This paper… can only be touched by untainted hands.”

And amidst the confusion and shame of the throne guards—
Alice Vermillion appeared.

A young girl in armor too new,
untainted by the battlefield,
untainted by court politics.
Hair blond like dawn.
Eyes blue like the sky before a storm.
Her steps were unhesitant.

“Let me try,” she said calmly.

“CRAZY! You could lose your hand!” shouted one of her seniors, trying to stop her.

But Alice just stepped forward.

And without hesitation…
touched the paper.
Nothing happened.
The paper did not burn.

It did not throb.
It did not rebel.
It was just… still. As if to admit:

“You… are not yet dirty.”

The knights fell silent. Some gritted their teeth. Some bowed their heads. They knew their kingdom had failed and a young girl had just inherited something greater than swords and titles.

Alice stared at the list of sins. Her hands trembled slightly, not from fear, but from a burden she did not yet understand.

“Who are you, Blood Rose…?”

—

POV: Alice Vermillion

The evening sky was too bright.
Too dazzling.
To witness the destruction they had neglected.

I walked alone.
Walking through the city alleys that were slowly beginning to fill with whispers.
Blood had been spilled this morning,
but more than that—
faith in the system had been shattered.

In my pocket, the paper was still there.
The paper that sinners could not touch…
still smoldered silently.

It was not heat that I felt.
But heaviness.
As if the sins written on it had seeped into my very bones.

I stopped in front of the military headquarters.
Inside, the other knights were still busy
constructing their own versions of what had happened this morning.

A version that children could read without crying.
A version that nobles could quote without feeling guilty.

But I knew.
What had happened this morning was not just murder.
It was judgment.

—

Sleepless Rest Room

I locked the door.
Took a deep breath.
Then sat down in a wooden chair that felt like it would break
under an invisible… but real weight.

My fingers unrolled the scroll again.

Gray paper.
Blooded writing.

The sins of Gilles—
an economic hero, he had said.

But now…
nothing more than a corpse behind the curtain of the “people’s court.”

The lines didn’t burn my skin.
But they burned my conscience.
And no water in the world could extinguish it.

“If this is not a crime… then what is hell?”

My hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
But from anger.
From guilt.
From betrayal of the system
I had always defended without hesitation.

—

That Night Had No Stars

I stood in front of the window.
Looking at the sleeping city.
But I didn’t feel a shred of peace.

In that silent world, only one sentence echoed in my head:

“Why wasn’t I the one who upheld justice?”

I was the one who once raised a sword for the people.
I was the one who swore in blood to protect the weak.
But now a foreign woman called “Blood Rose” has done my job much better.

And everyone knows it.

“I envy her…”
“Because she doesn’t need permission to be right.”

I lowered my head.
My hands held the scroll of sins like a holy book.
Not because I was afraid of her.

But because…
I felt unworthy.

—

Dawn Without Prayer

That morning, before the sun had completely dispelled the shadows of night,
there was a loud knock on my door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Lady Vermillion. The Imperial Council summons you.
You… are the one with the sin scroll, aren’t you?”

I turned my head slowly.

“Yes. I am.”

My voice was calm…
but the world behind my eyes was shaking.

“Take the scroll to the High Council.
They want to see for themselves… the sins written by that ‘fiendish villain’.”

I gripped the scroll tightly.
But this time not out of fear.

I knew this was the first step
that would lead me to glory…
or destruction.

But one thing was for sure:
I would not turn away.

And in my heart,
in the blazing silence,
the name echoed softly—
like a curse and a prayer fused into one:

Blood Rose.

“Wait for me.
If the world considers you a disaster…
then I want to know
why the night wind carries your scent.”

—

The Room of Truth That Was Never Honest

POV: The Supreme Council

That day, the great hall at the heart of the Red Palace was silent, but it was filled with bated breath—
with faces accustomed to command, but now… fearful.

Seated around the round silver table: old nobles, war-weary generals, advisors with forked tongues, supreme judges who held the law books… and at the highest point—King Eldric El Rose, with his stone eyes that hid the storm in his blood.

In the center of the circle, only one seat was occupied by a figure they had never considered before. A girl. A young knight.
Alice Vermillion.
Her hand held the sin paper—a cursed artifact that burned dirty hands and bit cowardly souls. Only she could touch it. And because of that all eyes were on her. Not with respect… but with fear.

“This is not just murder!” one of the nobles exclaimed, his face red as if it would explode.

“If we let this terrorist live freely, our children—even the prince—could be next!”

“This is rebellion,” said an old general, his voice cold as steel that no longer believed in victory.

“Not just against an individual… but against the very foundation of our kingdom.”

Then came another voice, older, more bitter a Minister of the Court who had sat on the seat of justice for longer than Alice had lived.

“The Blood Rose… was no mere assassin. She penetrated the palace,
slaughtered the elite guards, and crucified a duke in the heart of the city…”
“What we face… is no ordinary human.”

Silence.

All that could be heard was the rustle of royal cloth and the invisible ticking of the seconds leading to the downfall of the system. Before them... a sheet of paper. Sin. Fact. Blood. And before them too… the unburned girl. Alice did not speak. But she did not bow. Her gaze remained firm.

And in the midst of that silence, King Eldric El Rose who had been silent all this time raised his head. His face did not change. But those eyes of a king… and perhaps, a father, trembled. Because he knew. He knew the name behind the Blood Rose. He knew who was behind the Blood Rose that disturbed the palace. But he could not say it. Not in front of the nobility. Not in front of the military. Not in front of history.

“You… Vermillion,” the King’s voice was soft, but it echoed off the stone walls of the hall.

“Read the contents of the paper… in front of all of us.”

Alice stood up. The scroll of sins was unrolled. And once again, Gilles de Vire’s sins were recited.
Not as an indictment. But as a stern reminder—that the palace had once sheltered a monster with a human face.

Line after line.
Silence.
Then… murmurs of anger.
Fear mixed with truth.
Some nobles turned away.
Some generals gritted their teeth.

—

POV: King Eldric El Rose

Amidst the echoes of Alice's voice reciting Gilles' sins line by line, King Eldric El Rose sat stone-faced on his throne. But it was not the young knight's voice that he heard in his ears. It was... his own daughter's voice.

The voice of Marry El Rose, suing her father in the middle of the royal hall, with the blood that had rewritten the law. Every accusation Alice made was a slap in the face of power. And Eldric knew... he was guilty. Because he was the one who had turned blind eyes.

—

Flashback: A Father's Darkest Secret

Long ago, in the palace's basement, unrecorded in the official historical archives, the kingdom conducted a secret experiment: the Blood Rose Project.
Its purpose: To create the most powerful magic knight in the history of the Rose Kingdom. A single being capable of conquering all enemies in a single dance of blood.

And they chose a subject who could not refuse the kingdom's command... The King's own daughter: Marry El Rose.

“You will be a protective weapon. A protective princess. This is your destiny as a royal blood,” Eldric had said then not as a father, but as a reigning king.

But in that dark laboratory, Marry saw more than magic. She saw children, chained. Injected. Silenced. Their cries filled the night after night like an endless rain. And Marry tried to save them…

But every time she got close, the voice came:

“Leave them, Marry. Or Elvyn will pay the price.”

Elvyn El Rose
Her little brother.
The only light in Marry’s life.
The threat became a chain
that restrained her far stronger than magic.

And beneath her red dress,
the wound grew.

Became thorns.
Became execution.

—

Back in the Courtroom…

King Eldric opened his eyes.

Full of burden.
Full of shadows of the past.

He wanted to scream.
That everything was wrong.
That his daughter was not a monster.
That he was…
the source of the first wound.

But he was the king.
And a king… must not cry before his throne.
Finally, with a cold voice that cut deeper than any sword, he pronounced his verdict:

“Blood Rose is a threat to the throne. Assign her status: Level Four. Blightbrand Class. Enemy of the kingdom.”

“However, Your Majesty—”

“There is no but. She has chosen to be an enemy of the kingdom.”

No one knew.
That the enemy they were hunting…
was their own crown princess.
Only Eldric knew.
Just like when he had let children die for a military project,
he chose to remain silent. Because the truth hurt more than lies.
And this time,
he was sacrificing not just children… but his own child.

Outside the palace window, black rose petals fell silently. And the morning wind carried a soft whisper from the past:

“Father… I once believed in you.”

—

The Young Knight's Silent Prayer

POV: Alice Vermillion

After the court was dismissed, and the footsteps of the nobles faded into the marble halls of the palace, I stood alone in the royal garden.

Dusk poured a golden light that sliced ​​through the sky, as if the sun itself was ashamed of having illuminated a world full of lies.

In my hand, I still held tightly: the scroll of sin.

On my chest, two worlds fought without swords—
law… and justice.

I knew…
Blood Rose had broken the law.

But I also knew,
that the law had long since ceased to protect those who had no voice.

“Blood Rose… whoever you are I want to meet you. Not to capture you. But to understand.”

The afternoon breeze gently swept through my blond hair.
The sky listened.
But the kingdom…did not.

I closed my eyes.

“If that day comes, let me decide with my own sword.”

Blood Rose was now declared a fourth-level fugitive:
Blightbrand Class.
One rank below the Ensign who once brought total destruction to civilization.
The manhunt order was signed.

The map of the continent was marked.
The entire army knew.
They were hunting someone more than a killer.
They were hunting a symbol.
It could not be killed by the sword.

And I knew it.
And that’s why my chest felt heavy.

“She was no hero. But…she made people smile in the midst of their pain.
And…she made them cry—not because of loss, but because finally…someone heard them.”

I remembered those faces in the square.
The face of a father who had lost his daughter.
A mother who had never seen her child again.

But they weren’t crying because they were sad—
they were crying because they were relieved.

Because justice had finally bled.

And I felt a wound.
Deeper than any wound I’d ever felt.

“Why…?
Why can I only stand beside them?
Why can I only listen… but not act?
Am I not a knight?
But I can’t even take a step without permission from the crown.
So… whose knight am I?”

The question kept echoing in my head that night.
There was no answer.
Just silence and feelings that slowly formed wounds
that couldn’t be seen from the outside.

—

That night, Alice did not sleep. And that night too, her fate began to be rewritten. She did not know yet, that her steps would lead her directly to the path of meeting the Blood Rose. And when they finally meet... Alice's sword and heart will be tested.

Will she remain a knight of the kingdom...
or...
a knight for those who have long been forgotten?