Chapter 86: Charlotte and Words of Resentment

The Crimson Bell clan house was completely empty. Just as it had felt from outside, not a single soul was inside.

It felt a little strange. This place had always been bursting with energy, with people everywhere you looked.

When I glanced at Riven, he gave a small nod, as though something had just clicked for him.

"Did you figure something out?"

"Just a theory. More importantly, let’s look for Trishel."

Without sparing a glance at the vacant clan house, Riven strode straight toward Trishel’s room. Normally, he’d be walking briskly, but this time he adjusted his pace to match mine. That, in its own way, warmed my chest a little.

What exactly was his theory? The fact that he wasn’t telling me—did that mean it wasn’t worth sharing? Or maybe it was something inconvenient for me to hear? Given the situation, I was leaning toward the latter. Otherwise, he wouldn’t hold back in a way that would only make me uneasy.

In silence, we advanced without hesitation until we arrived at Trishel’s room.

Just because this was a dream didn’t mean anything felt different from reality. That only made the absence of people stand out even more as abnormal. At this point, there was no room left for doubt.

"I’m opening it."

When we reached the door, Riven flung it open without hesitation.

But once again, no one was there. His guess had been off.

"She’s not here."

"…Yeah. Looks like she wasn’t that simple-minded after all."

That was quite a way of putting it.

Come to think of it, we’d said we were searching for Trishel, but I never actually asked why.

"They said Trishel is inside this dream, but what exactly are we supposed to do when we find her?"

"…Ah."

Ah? What kind of answer was that? His expression turned grim—maybe it was something hard to say?

Let me think this through. If this really is a dream, then how did Trishel even get here? Riven had said he borrowed the power of his monster sister to come in. If he’s the one searching for her, then that would mean she was already here before him.

Trishel entered the dream before Riven? Doesn’t that seem strange?

"Riven."

"What is it."

"Trishel didn’t come in here together with you, did she?"

"………No."

After a long pause, he admitted it.

If I trace back when things started to feel off, it was back in Riven’s room. That was when the room suddenly became clean and Riven disappeared. He was the one who should’ve confirmed I was asleep first. There’s no way Trishel could have noticed before him.

So, if she came before Riven… then when did she get here?

――If I think about it that far, even I can piece it together.

"Hey, Riven."

"What."

"Is Trishel the one who created this dream?"

"………………"

He didn’t answer. A moment later, I heard him click his tongue. His silence only confirmed it.

Wait—so this whole dream was created by Trishel?

That would explain why she was here from the very beginning. But then… why?

What I remembered was that airheaded smile of hers, laughing so cheerfully. I never had the faintest clue she held any resentment toward me.

Then why did she help me back at the auction? Or in Salem? Was it all part of the plan from the start—was she mocking me the whole time?

I felt my body temperature drop. A chill crept through me as if all the blood drained from my veins. My fingertips trembled.

It was the same sensation as when I first met Riven in this dream—the fear of being betrayed by something I believed in.

Then, as if to warm my frozen fingers, Riven took my hand.

"It hasn’t been decided yet. Hold yourself together."

"B-but…"

"Until we hear it straight, nothing’s certain. Isn’t that right?"

His words were spoken like an order, and without thinking, I nodded. Still, wasn’t it basically certain at this point?

"Then let’s hurry up, find her, and ask the truth for ourselves."

"And… if it’s true?"

"Then we’ll beat it out of her and find out why she did it."

Such violent words. Maybe he made it sound cold on purpose, to steady me. I couldn’t tell.

But then, after a moment’s hesitation, he forced a clumsy smile.

"Hey, they say a fight can make people patch things up, right? If that’s what you want… you could do the same."

I was dumbfounded. This—he was calling this a fight? This cruel act, just a fight?

"…Pfft! Ahaha, what’s with that?"

It was so absurd I couldn’t help but laugh. Anger, shock, despair—my emotions flew past all of those and landed on laughter. Come on, no way. How could anyone think that was the right thing to say?

But Riven seemed relieved when I laughed, like he was glad his awkward attempt at encouragement had worked. No, it didn’t work! Not at all!

…And yet, because he said it, I realized something. I wasn’t even that angry. Sure, what I’d been put through was painful and miserable. But it wasn’t anger I felt.

It was sadness. Sadness that maybe all the fun we’d shared had been a lie. That was all.

"To suffer this much, and still be told to reconcile… Riven, you’ve got some nerve."

"Hmph. Is that so."

Right, I forgot—he didn’t know what I’d gone through. He only pieced things together by looking at the situation. Then maybe I should spell it out for him.

"This dream is awful! It drags up every bit of guilt you’ve ever felt, then makes the people you wronged tear into you over it! That’s not a fight—it’s torture! I was driven to the point where I honestly wanted to die!"

"I-I see."

"‘I see’ isn’t enough! If you hadn’t encouraged me back there, I might’ve actually died, you know!"

Despite the heavy words, they tumbled out of me lightly, almost playfully. Riven looked flustered at the mismatch, and that made me smile at him. This time, I was the one who wanted to ease his mind.

"Rare slip of the tongue, huh?"

"Grh… my apologies."

Really, it was unusual for him to say something so thoughtless. What happened to the guy who’d been giving me such strong, inspiring words just moments ago?

…Oh, right. He doesn’t have friends. His circle must be ridiculously small. So of course he wouldn’t know what to say in a moment like this. Honestly… kind of cute. When it comes to conviction and ideals, he’s eloquent. But this? Not at all. I guess you could call that a gap.

"But… thank you."

Those words of gratitude weren’t a lie. They came straight from my heart. Sure, he said something ridiculous, but thanks to that, my chest felt a whole lot lighter.

"Holding grudges is exhausting, isn’t it? Even after everything, I still can’t understand Salem’s feelings one bit."

"If you don’t need to, then don’t."

"Yeah. I don’t want to."

Come to think of it, Nick and the others—I didn’t really hold grudges against them either. They betrayed me and nearly killed me, but by now, I’d almost forgotten.

I just wasn’t built for that kind of hatred. When it happened, sure, I was furious. But that’s different. When it comes to forgiving or not forgiving—that’s separate. And forgiveness? No way. But grudges… that’s not quite it either.

"For now, I’m going to smack her! That’s why we’re looking for her!"

Damn you, Trishel, for putting me through this!

Before hearing her excuse, I’ll slap her once for sure! And if she spouts some pathetic nonsense after that, I’ll slap her again!

"Come on, let’s look for clues! Let’s go see that idiot face of hers as soon as possible!"

"Yeah, right."

He probably thinks it’s fine as long as we ended up feeling energized. I wonder if one day some careless word of his will get him stabbed. With talk like that about fights, some people could easily lose their temper and grab him by the collar. He probably doesn’t even realize it.

But well, he’s always been a little reckless now and then.

We began searching the room. It wasn’t very big. Splitting up made short work of the obvious spots.

Naturally, we went our separate ways to search the house, but I couldn’t help twisting my mouth into a smile again.

Ah, this is fun. Being with someone else makes all the difference.

"…Really, thank you."

I murmured quietly. If asked what I was thanking him for, it would be hard to explain. I just said it because I wanted to.

Even Riven, with his sharp ears, didn’t seem to catch it while searching the room. I felt a little relief, and my mood was noticeably lighter.

When the search ended, we confirmed that we hadn’t found anything.

If Trishel was here, this seemed like the most likely spot—or rather, the only place I knew she might go—so this left us at an impasse.

"There’s nothing here."

"Yeah. Now the question is, what do we do next?"

Would we have to search all over town? I really didn’t want that.

I glanced around, hoping to see something—anything—and my eyes landed on one object.

"This… this is the staff that was broken back when Salem was here."

An old, worn staff sat in the corner of the room.

I don’t know why, but looking at it now stirred a strange sense of nostalgia. I hadn’t felt that way before… maybe it’s just me.

"That staff—what about it?"

"Nothing, really—"

I had simply felt like touching it.

The moment my fingertips brushed the staff, I felt someone’s gaze piercingly strong.

"!?!"

I immediately pulled my hand back.

What was that feeling just now? Was someone watching me?

It wasn’t Riven’s gaze. It was colder… something impossible to look directly at.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. I’m fi… fine…?"

Strangely, the hand that had touched the staff was now clutching a scrap of paper.

Huh… when did this appear?

Riven asked me with his eyes, and I shook my head.

It was just a scrap of paper, but it felt… off. Folded neatly, I opened it to see what was inside.

"Riven… this is…"

"It might be a message… from her."

Written there was a message that appeared to be from Trishel, saying she would be waiting at the place where we first met.