Chapter 10: Justice will Prevail.

The sight before them was too much to bear. Neither of them had expected this—especially not here, in an orphanage under the Cathedral’s authority. A place where protecting children was supposed to be sacred, where even taking a life was forbidden. And yet, the cruelty inflicted on these helpless children made it clear to Diana: this wasn’t about commandments or faith anymore. It was about greed— merciless greed that trampled everything it claimed to stand for.

Her teeth sank into her lip as she gasped, her chest tightening with every frantic beat of her heart. The weight of it all pressed down on her, threatening to crush her. Beside her, Leo felt the same storm inside, but he forced himself to steady his breath. Then his eyes caught Diana—frozen, hollowed, as if life had been drained from her.

“Diana,” he murmured, before grabbing her shoulders and turning her toward him. Her lips trembled, her gaze vacant, lost in shock.
Panic flashed across his face. He shook her gently, desperate to bring her back.

“Diana!” His voice cracked, louder now, calling her back to herself.
Her consciousness clawed its way back, dragging her into the unbearable weight of reality. Tears burst from her trembling eyes, blurring the world she could no longer bear to see. She squeezed them shut, her voice breaking free in a fragile gasp, raw and filled with pain.

“L-Leo…” The name fell from her lips, ragged. “T-This is t-too much! I-I can’t… I can’t handle this all at once!” A strangled gasp tore from her throat as her legs buckled, sending her down to her knees.

Leo’s breath caught at the sight of her crumbling, but he forced his hands steady as he brushed the tears from her cheeks with a gentleness as if he were touching the edge of glass.

“I know, Diana. I know…” His voice faltered, a sharp exhale slipping through as though to bleed off the anxiety pressing against his chest. “This isn’t what we expected to see. But this—” he swallowed, the word heavy, “this is reality. If only I’d acted sooner, maybe… maybe this wouldn’t have happened to them. But it did. And we can’t change that now.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed as if willing his strength into her. “But there are still children waiting for us—Sasha, Glenn, there are children that're still alive in this orphanage. That’s why… don’t lose yourself now. If you do, we might lose the chance to protect them.”

His hands cupped her cheeks, firm yet tender. “Please, Diana… stay with me.”

Diana's shoulders shook violently, letting out choked breaths. Her brows knitted as she gave a small, trembling nod. “I-I’m sorry… m-my emotions rushed through me so fast it felt like they crushed my will.”

Leo eased his forehead back from hers, a faint smile softening his face as he watched her fight to steady herself, wiping the tears from her cheeks with shaking hands.

“T-Thank you, Leo.” Her voice was still unsteady, but little by little, strength was returning to it.

He rose to his feet and extended a hand toward her. She grasped it instantly, letting him pull her up, though her legs quivered beneath her. For a moment, it seemed she might fall again, but she forced herself upright, clinging to what little resolve she had left.

Her gaze drifted across the room and found Sasha, standing motionless in front of the table where the lifeless girl lay. Sasha’s lips pressed tightly together, her eyes fixed on them—not in judgment, but in quiet hope. She stood there as if silently willing them to endure, to overcome the storm threatening to break them.

Diana drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. A shiver ran through her arms, making her grasp the dress tighter, but she forced a small smile.
“I’m sorry for losing my calm like that… I told you I was prepared, but… I wasn’t.”

Sasha shook her head gently, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“That’s a normal reaction after seeing something like this. Honestly, if you hadn’t broken down, that would’ve worried me even more.”

Diana blinked, brows furrowing. “Huh?”

Sasha’s smile faded. Her hands clutched each other so tightly they trembled.
“Now that you’ve seen the truth—what this orphanage really is, the way they’ve always treated us… what are you going to do now?” Her voice wavered, carrying the weight of worry.

Suddenly, her composure cracked. She bit down on her lip, desperation and frustration colliding in her chest. With a forceful motion, she buried her face in her hands, as if trying to hide a pain too heavy to reveal. But the tears came anyway—pouring down in rivers, breaking through the walls she had built for years.

“We… we don’t deserve this…” Her voice shook violently, words stumbling out between sobs.
“We never asked for this! If we’d known what awaited us just by being born into this world… w-w-we never would’ve asked to be born at all.”
She raised her gaze toward Diana, her green eyes trembling with anguish, emotions surging like a storm.
“W-We’re still children…” Her voice cracked.” We barely even understand how this world works. How can we be treated this way! We don’t deserve this cruelty… not any of us.”

Diana’s lips pressed together, as irritation bubbled in her chest. Her brows pulled tight, her hands clutching at her dress until the fabric wrinkled in her grip. Then, without hesitation, she rushed forward and wrapped Sasha in her arms. Her embrace was gentle but unyielding, as if shielding her from the world itself.

“I know,” Diana whispered fiercely. “No one deserves to be treated this way.”

She drew back slightly, cupping Sasha’s cheeks with both hands. Her thumbs brushed away the tears spilling down her skin. “But now that I’m here, I promise you this—you’ll never have to endure this cruelty again. None of you will. Not anymore.”

A group of men in flowing burgundy robes, embroidered with gold along the hems, walked in formation down the straight road ahead. Their priestlike garments carried the unmistakable authority of the Cathedral. The setting sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the houses aligned on either side, the streets bathed in hues of orange fading into deepening dusk.

They were the orphanage caretakers, making their way toward Diana and Leo. At the front strode Grewyn, his steps overly confident, a sly smile twisting across his face—one that reeked of greed.

Behind him followed an older man with a shaved head and a long, graying beard. Every line of his posture carried authority, his presence almost heavier than the other caretakers. His voice, however, was sharper than steel.

“Grewyn,” he said, his tone dripping with venom, “are you certain that ignorant brat came to your section to offer us more donations for the month?”

Grewyn’s grin widened until it nearly split his face. “Yes, Headmaster. She even said she would give as much money as needed to renovate the house.”

The caretakers couldn’t hide their devious grins. Their once-blank expressions twisted, eyes narrowing with a glint of hunger.

“Excellent work, Grewyn,” the Headmaster said, his voice oozing satisfaction. “The more money we gather, the sooner our plan will be complete. We’ll use this kingdom’s funds into the foundation of our paradise.”

They walked with heads held high, their robes swaying like banners of authority. The people lining the streets shrank back, some averting their eyes in fear. But many couldn’t hide their fury—their glares sharp, faces tight with restrained madness.

“It’s them…” a middle-aged man muttered, gripping a thick wooden stick so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Don’t get involved with them,” an elderly woman hissed, tugging one of the younger men by the sleeve.

“They’ve done cruel things to the children,” a young man growled, his eyes burning with rage. “How can we just sit here and let them get away with it?”

“Let Queen Towa handle it,” another voice of a woman answered quickly. “She’ll deal with these scumbags soon enough.”

The caretakers didn’t hear their words, but they felt the weight of the stares pressing in on them—gazes heavy, layered with emotions they couldn’t quite name.

“Tch! Look at these lowly commoners, glaring at us openly,” one caretaker sneered.

“There’s no need to bother with them,” the Headmaster replied, his voice thick with mockery. “They’re only jealous because we serve under the Cathedral—we hold an authority they’ll never touch.” His laughter carried, sharp and cruel, cutting through the uneasy silence of the road.

But Grewyn’s smirk faltered. Something in the air had shifted. The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive. Moments ago, the street had been lined with onlookers, but now… not a single soul remained.

Then, when they finally turned the corner and the house came into view, their brows furrowed in confusion. A girl stood before the house, her green ponytail swaying slightly in the wind, her sharp emerald eyes fixed on them, a glare so fierce it was like a lioness glaring down at her prey. There was no kindness in her expression—only cold defiance.

In that instant, it felt as though unseen hands clawed at their ankles, dragging them down. The air thickened, pressing against their lungs, as if the world itself was refusing to let them breathe. When they dared glance at the ground, they swore they could see the faint outlines of children’s ghosts staring back with hollow, lifeless expressions, their silent despair pulling them further into dread. Sweat broke across their foreheads, trickling down in uneasy streams.

And then—clap!

The sound cracked through the tension, snapping them back to reality. Their eyes darted up, and there she was—the same girl, but now smiling warmly as though the chilling vision moments ago had never happened. It was none other than Diana.

As they approached her, their faces remained pale, confusion etched into every line. The headmaster quickened his steps until he was beside Grewyn.
“W-What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice trembling.

Grewyn swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I-I don’t know either, Headmaster…”

The headmaster exhaled sharply, his face darkening with irritation. “Tch! Whatever nonsense she plans to spout, let’s just listen. Once we collect the donations, I’ll make sure half of it goes to building our paradise.”

Diana clasped her hands together, her smile warm and inviting.
“Hello everyone, good evening. I apologize for calling you here so suddenly, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

They halted before her, their expressions unreadable—faces blank as masks, gazes fixed on her figure. The headmaster stepped forward ahead of the rest, his lips curling into a gentle smile.
“It’s an honor to see you again, Your Majesty, Towa-sama. Please, don’t apologize to us. If anything, we should apologize for leaning so heavily on the Kingdom’s generosity.”

His words dripped with politeness, but beneath the velvet tone Diana caught the sting of hidden greed.

“You’re right,” she said softly. ““If anyone owes an apology… It’s all of you.”

The warmth drained from her features. The gentle glow of her emerald eyes darkened, turning into a hollow void as she locked her gaze onto his.

“Huh?”

The word spilled from their lips at once, confusion painting their faces at her sudden turn.

“W-What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Grewyn stammered. “Just as you asked, I gathered all the caretakers. Now that we are here, we can—”

“There is no meeting to be held to begin with,” Diana interrupted sharply, her voice cold and cutting, leaving no room for interruption.

“W-What are you s-saying?”

She pressed her lips together, clutching her dress tightly, her gaze sharp and unyielding, her eyes filled with disgust that swept over them..
“Am I a fool in your eyes?!” she roared, her voice boiling over and each word laced with raw anger. She swept her hand toward the house. “I have been donating for the children’s lives, not to feed your satisfaction!”

“What have you done with the money I’ve entrusted to you?”

Grewyn’s eyes widened, his lips trembling.
“W-What do you mean, Your Majesty? We’ve always taken care of the children. All the money you donated—”

“Do you think I am blind?” Diana’s eyes burned with icy fury, her green gaze locking onto his. Her brows knit with irritation.
“Do you truly take me for a fool, Grewyn?”

He flailed, waving his hands desperately. “Not at all! I dearly respect you, Your Majesty! I will do everything you asked me for!”

Diana stepped closer, her presence filled with authority. Her voice dropped, and it was intimidating.
“Then speak the truth, Grewyn. Tell me exactly what you have done with the money I gave for the children.”