Chapter 11: We will do what you did to them.

Grewyn’s face was swollen, his hands slick with sweat, his mind clouded in a fog of panic. No matter how many times he forced himself to look into her eyes, it felt as if his chest might burst under the weight of her gaze.

The person I spoke to earlier… is not her at all. She—she’s completely different. He muttered the thought under his breath, lost in a haze of disbelief and fear.

“Then speak the truth, Grewyn. Tell me exactly what you have done with the money I gave for the children.”

His shoulders slumped as he swallowed hard, the words sticking in his throat. No excuses came. None could. And then, the Headmaster stepped forward, clearing his throat with a forced calm, trying to cut through the storm that hung thick in the room.

“If I may, Your Majesty…i’m the Headmaster of all the orphanages in the Kingdom.” He raised a hand, a tentative attempt to draw her attention.

Diana’s gaze snapped to him, unflinching, sharp as steel.

“We just got here, and we don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” he stammered, voice trembling. “Would you… explain why you ask such a question?”

Diana held her gaze on him, silent for several tense seconds.

“If you were truly sincere in helping the children, Headmaster, you would already know the answer to my question simply by looking around you,” she said bluntly, her words struck through the thin air.

The Headmaster’s brow furrowed as he scanned the whole area, especially the wreckage house standing in front of him, searching for any clue, any hint that could justify her accusation. He shook his head slowly, twice, as if willing his confusion into clarity. “I—I’m afraid not, Your Majesty.”

Diana’s frown deepened, the edges of her mouth tightening with quiet disdain.
“I see. Pretending ignorance after misusing donations meant for the children… that seems to be the only way to avoid admitting guilt.”

His eyes widened, and his hand went to his beard, stroking from chin to jaw nervously. “W-What do you mean, Your Majesty?” His voice quivered despite his attempt at calm. “With all due respect, we have tried our utmost to give the children the best life possible. And your donations… they’ve allowed us to do more than we could alone.”

He extended his palm toward her, offering a smile that was meant to convey sincerity but lacked its warmth.
“Please, Your Majesty, do not doubt our intentions. We have faith in God, and we have been chosen to protect the people of this nation.” His gaze sharpened, flickering with caution as it locked on hers. “Even with all your authority, opposing our work is akin to opposing the work of God himself.”

“Then you’re saying… locking up the children in an underground basement, chaining their naked bodies, raping a helpless girl over and over, mutilating a boy’s private part, slowly letting them die—and after death, leaving their corpses chained while mice gnawed at their flesh and insects crawled inside them…”

Her voice trembled as she drew a ragged breath, fury radiating from every word. “Is that what you call the WORK OF GOD?!” She bellowed, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, her brows furrowed into a mask of pure wrath.

The Headmaster and Grewyn froze, eyes widened in shock while their mouths quivering. The Headmaster shot Grewyn a deathly glare, lips pulled tight with barely restrained madness. Grewyn’s face paled further, and his legs shook as he took an uncertain step back.

“W-What are you even saying, Your Majesty?!” Grewyn stuttered and voice cracked. “Please… don’t accuse us of such… unforgivable cruelty! We—we did not commit such sins!”

“Lies!!!”

Her voice rose, echoing through the entire surroundings, forcing all the caretakers to stumble back a few steps. Their faces flushed and swollen, sweat streaming down like a relentless river.

“Your Majesty, to accuse us without proof is a grave sin—especially within the Cathedral,” the headmaster said, his hands trembling slightly as he gestured, trying to assert authority. “You may have forgotten, but we serve under the Cathedral. There are lines we cannot—and will not—cross.”

Diana didn’t answer. She stood motionless, her gaze fixed cold and unyielding. The air seemed to thicken around her. Then the door creaked open, and a soldier stepped outside, dragging a chain streaked with deep crimson.
He met Diana’s eyes as he walked forward, each step deliberate, until he halted before her and bowed.

“Your Majesty, all the fallen children have been transported to the cart,” he said quietly, the chain rattling softly in his grip. “I… regret to report that all of them are dead. My deepest apologies.”

A shudder ran through the caretakers. Shoulders rose and fell in ragged, uneven breaths; their irises flickered with terror. limbs shivering as if an icy wind had cut through their bones. One of them tried to flee, panic propelling him forward—but it was futile. Soldiers in full armor had already closed in, encircling every exit passage.

Fear finally broke through. Some caretakers dropped to their knees, faces pressed to the dirt, unable to do anything but bow before the inevitability of what had come.

“P-P-P-Please… forgive me, Your Majesty! I-I-I didn’t do anything wrong to the children! P-Please… l-let me go!” one of them finally lost it, his voice cracking and his body started to tremble uncontrollably.

“T-The H-Headmaster… he was b-behind all of this, Your Majesty! We… we only followed his schemes because If we didn’t… he would punish us!” another cried while his eyes wide, hands clawing at the air as if trying to shield himself from an invisible threat.

“That’s right! It’s all The Headmaster’s fault! We didn’t… do anything bad! P-Please… let us go, Your Majesty!”

Their voices collided, quaking with terror and words tumbling out faster than reason could catch. Fear had swallowed their minds whole, leaving only raw panic and desperation.

The Headmaster, however, remained unnervingly composed. A smirk curved his lips, calm and unshaken, as if Diana’s accusations were nothing more than whispered breezes that couldn’t touch him.

“Just as I said, we do not serve the royalty,” the Headmaster warned, voice heavy with authority. “You may have forgotten, but the Cathedral wields power equal to the crown itself. If you let your emotions control you and capture us right now, Your Majesty, your actions will ignite a conflict with the Cathedral.”

His words hung in the air like a storm cloud—but Diana said nothing. She stared at the soldier with a hollow gaze, her eyes dark and empty, devoid of any flicker of light.

“Make sure they suffer a hundred times more than they did to the children,” she said quietly, each word sharp and deliberate.

She shifted slightly, casting a glare over her shoulder at the Headmaster. It seared into him, a silent vow of retribution that left no room for doubt.

“At this moment,” she added, voice low yet laced with cold, “those who claim holiness will find themselves enemies of the crown.”

After her words hung in the air, his mind raced, heart hammering violently in his chest. The calm he had worn so effortlessly shattered as he watched her step back, slowly disappearing right in front of him. Then, as if the weight of inevitability had crushed him. He looked at Grewyn who was already sunk to his knees.

“P-P-Please… have m-mercy, Your Majesty! I was wrong… all wrong! P-Please… have mercy!” His voice trembling, body shivering as desperation overtook him.

Diana’s eyes narrowed, sharp with disdain, her expression twisting into something that was almost disgust.

“Mercy for the guilty is cruelty to the innocent,” she said, voice low yet her gaze was cold as ice. “You will suffer far more than you did to those children.”

The Headmaster clicked his tongue nervously.

“You! You’ll pay for making the Cathedral your enemy, you—ignorant brat!” he bellowed, rage lacing every word.

Before he could finish, the soldier stepped forward with terrifying precision. His hand gripped the Headmaster’s face, forcing his mouth open. The sword flashed, and in a single, clean stroke, the tongue was gone. Blood spurted across the ground as the Headmaster screamed, a guttural, ragged sound that shook the whole area. He collapsed to his knees, tears and blood streaking his face, eyes swelling red with agony.

Amidst his screams, a whisper brushed against his ear—soft, deliberate, and ice-cold, chilling him to the core.

“We’ve already investigated the orphanage you were assigned to. What we found… was beyond outrageous. The cruelty you inflicted upon those children was far worse than anything imaginable.”

He clutched at his mouth, trying in vain to stop the flow of blood. When he finally dared to look up, terror froze him in place. His face drained of color, sweat slicking his skin as his eyes widened in disbelief.

Before him stood a man whose gaze burned with a single, terrifying purpose—to make the guilty suffer far more than their victims ever did. A face not of a man, but of a demon, as if he had risen from the depths of hell itself just to punish them.

“Do you understand what awaits all of you?” the voice hissed, each word laced with deadly venom.

A sickening smack echoed across the ground. When he looked, Grewyn lay crumpled, blood pouring from where his left ear had been torn away.
His screams of agony tore through the place, raw and desperate, echoing off the air like a chorus of torment.

The Headmaster’s gaze flicked to the soldier standing before him. Fear made his eyes wide and unblinking—but the soldier only grinned. Hollow, empty, with not a trace of mercy in his expression.
“We will torture you… slowly,” the soldier said, voice dripping with relish.
“Heal your wounds, then torture you again. Over and over… exactly as you did to the children but in the worst painful way.” A low laugh of excitement rumbled from his chest.

“P-P-Please… help u-u-us… God… P-Please… Frederick-sama!” the Headmaster choked, voice cracking as desperation broke him entirely.

In the quiet room, broken only by the soft tick of the clock, Diana pressed herself against the corner wall. Her brows drew together, lips pressing into a thin line, and when she tilted her head, a stray lock of hair fell across her cheek.
Footsteps approached softly. She glanced up and saw Leo, his expression tinged with concern.

“What’s wrong? Why do you look so… conflicted?” he asked, his voice gentle but steady.
Diana straightened slightly, her gaze locking onto his.
“Can I ask you something, Leo? And I need your answer to be honest.”

He tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his golden eyes.
“Go ahead. What is it?”

"Just like you said earlier, the Late King granted the Cathedral the highest authority under him,” she began, her eyes sharp with curiosity.
“Does that mean the Cathedral has the power to influence the military of this Kingdom?”

“They do not possess an authority to control the palace’s military but they do have their own forces—and… we’re not exactly on good terms with them,” he replied.

Diana’s eyes narrowed, seriousness etched in every line of her face. “And… Do you think our military is strong enough to stand against them?”

almost instinctively, he placed a hand over his chest and smiled with quiet conviction. “I swear on my life—we have the strongest military in this Kingdom.”

Diana smiled softly. “I see. That’s good enough,” she replied.

Though her thoughts drifted back. Memories surged through her, pulling her back to the underground basement, to the moment he had called her by her real name instead of Towa.
She lightly scratched her cheek with her pointer finger, glancing to the side.
“Back when we were still in the underground basement…” she murmured, her voice low, yet Leo caught it.

He nodded. “Hmm?”

“You called my real name out of nowhere. It… surprised me.”

“Ah!” His voice popped out suddenly. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” she said, fidgeting slightly, “but I thought you didn’t remember my real name!”

He tilted his head, a finger resting on his cheek thoughtfully.
“Why? Your name’s easy to remember.”

“I-I-I know that!” she stuttered.

“Well,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips,
“I’m going to start calling you by your real name when we’re alone.”

Diana blinked, hesitant. “Isn’t that hard for you? I mean… this is Towa’s body I’m using. You’d naturally think of me as Towa.”

He waved his hand immediately, almost dismissively. “No, no, no!” he said firmly. “You might be in her body, but your personality… is completely different from her.”

“Why is that?” she asked, curiosity and something softer—vulnerability—lingering in her gaze.

“Towa is a very kind person.”

Diana’s eyebrow arched slightly as she shot him a pointed glare.
“Does that mean I’m not kind at all?”

“No, it’s not like that,” he said quickly while shaking his head gently.
“You’re kind, just like her—but you wield that kindness differently. You use it to strengthen yourself. Towa… she lets her kindness become her weakness. She will do everything in her power to help those in need, and because of that, some people take that as their advantage to manipulate her.” His eyes softened as he spoke, and Diana noticed immediately. There was a quiet pain in his expression, as if admitting this truth hurt him, but he couldn’t ignore it.

Diana exhaled, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “I just… I don't like it when people try to take advantage of me.”

A small, knowing smile curved his lips.
“You’re right about that,” he murmured.