Ayra returned to her room and began digging up /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ the floor.
The sight of her was like soone hunting for a hidden treasure chest marked on an old pirate map—probing here and there, full of restless energy.
But when she finally unearthed the floor and revealed what had been hidden underneath, I began to understand why she’d been so worked up.
“What is this...?”
It was a jar—visibly suspicious at first glance.
About half the size of my torso.
I had no idea why sothing like a jar would be buried beneath the floor of the queen’s bedchamber in this fortress, but—
Swirl.
A strange, murky aura wafted up from its mouth, covered in black paper. Just looking at it made it obvious that whatever was inside had to be incredibly toxic—possibly horrific.
Cough. “It’s foul. Why would sothing like this be buried under the queen’s room?”
Just being in the sa space with the jar made my nose and throat sting, and I coughed as if sothing were stuck in my throat.
Slide.
As I reached out toward it, Ayra stopped with her hand.
“It’s best not to touch it.”
“Then what should we do? Leaving it here seems incredibly ominous.”
It might just’ve been a feeling, but it reminded of when I once unearthed an unexploded bomb. Like it might go off without warning and obliterate my life.
Shhh.
Ayra narrowed her eyes, examining the sharp script engraved around the jar’s lid. Then, covering her nose with a handkerchief, she shook her head and said,
“There’s a type of spell woven into these letters. But I can’t read them. We’ll need an expert.”
“An expert?”
“Before that, let’s get out of this room first.”
I left the room with Ayra. Just stepping outside made it easier to breathe. Especially Ayra—she finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding in.
For soone who valued cleanliness and refinent, having sothing that grotesque buried beneath her bed was likely unacceptable.
About five minutes later—
Mirna and Nare ca rushing at my summons. They were the only ones I could think of who might know sothing about such an eerie jar.
“Sis, look at that.”
“Sir Teo, is that the so-called grotesque jar?”
With handkerchiefs soaked in special holy water covering their mouths and noses, they stared at the jar sitting exposed in the floor, then exchanged a look.
“Nare, what do you think?”
“I think you and I are thinking the sa thing. I’ve never seen sothing like this before. We’ll have to open the lid to know for sure.”
Slide.
Wearing white gloves, Nare carefully reached toward the jar. The way she moved—so precise, so slow—it felt like watching a bomb squad handle an IED.
Rustle.
Finally, her fingers touched the black cloth sealing the jar.
“Sis, I’m going to open it now.”
“Okay. On three.”
“Three.”
Nare skipped both one and two and yanked the cover right off. Instantly, sothing erupted from inside with a whoosh—a surge of sothing intangible and vile.
The biggest reaction ca from Mirna.
“Urk...!”
She imdiately clamped her handkerchief tighter over her mouth and staggered backward, practically fleeing the room. She rushed to a window and flung it open, dry heaving over the sill.
It reminded of an old friend who once had to dispose of a long-dead cat. Whatever was inside that jar—she had clearly seen sothing unspeakable.
By contrast, Nare stayed relatively composed.
“I’ve never seen anything this bad. You’d need a truly twisted kind of malice to create sothing like this.”
Nare, frowning deeply under her handkerchief, looked like she still had a strong stomach, maybe thanks to her past experience tending to the tombs of House Draco.
Slide.
She quickly closed the lid again, then turned to Mirna and said,
“Sis, now’s not the ti to be standing around. We need to seal this thing up. No telling what might happen if we leave it exposed. Give so talismans.”
“...Huuuh.”
Mirna wiped her mouth with the back of her gloved hand.
Then she pulled paper and a brush from her robe and hastily scribbled down so characters.
Nare took them and began slapping the talismans onto the jar like stickers, wrapping it in layers until it resembled so kind of mosaic art.
While I was marveling at that strange scene, Mirna—now breathing more evenly—trembled slightly and spoke.
“Nare, this is only a temporary seal. We need to perform a proper exorcism. If we leave this be, sothing terrible will definitely happen.”
At least for now, the task seed complete. Having observed everything, I finally had to ask the obvious question:
What was that thing?
***
“It’s a curse. A horrible one. The kind that drives people insane, makes them seize and spiral. Even I’ve never seen anything this vile. It’s probably so ancient thing buried in forgotten docunts.”
Nare offered her evaluation of the jar.
Given her deep knowledge of curses, I’d hoped she might know its identity for sure, but—
Even she could only grasp what it was, not describe it in detail. She added,
“Maybe the professor would know. She’s older, and she’s surprisingly well-read on this kind of topic.”
Nare said this with a sowhat unusually somber expression. In response, I summoned one of the birds flitting nearby.
“Go find Professor Stella.”
Flap-flap.
A wild pigeon flew off to find her.
About five minutes later, Professor Stella appeared—shouldering a massive quiver and carrying a rabbit, with the pigeon perched on her shoulder.
“What’s all this? Why call out like this? And why’s everyone gathered?”
“Professor Stella, please take a look at this.”
Nare pointed to the jar lying on the floor.
Stella raised her brow and stroked her chin.
“A seal? Looks like a pretty old jar. At least fifty years, by the looks of it. I’d need to send it to Ark for proper dating, but...”
As the elven professor peered into the jar, Mirna interjected.
“Not the jar. It’s the contents we’re worried about.”
“The contents?”
Mirna gestured with her chin. Nare leaned in and whispered sothing into Stella’s long, pointed ear.
Whisper whisper.
“Is that true?”
After hearing everything, Stella’s expression turned grave. Then she said, “Wait here a mont,” and brought out an ancient-looking book.
“Understanding Ancient Curses and Associated Folklore, Volu I – Authored by Lotus Draco”
That’s what was written on the worn cover. Upon seeing it, Nare trembled slightly and cried out in a small but clear voice.
“That’s one of Lotus Draco’s tos! I couldn’t even find that in the market! We don’t even have it at ho! Where’d you get that? I thought they were all burned during the witch hunts!”
I didn’t know much, but it was clearly a big deal. Stella said,
“To an elf, a hundred-year-old book isn’t that ancient. I bought it when it was first printed. Anyway, that’s not important.”
Flip, flip, fllrrrp.
She carefully turned the fragile pages, examining the bizarre illustrations on each one until finally—
“Here. This must be it.”
Stella pointed to a passage and began reading aloud.
“This is a tale about a type of curse used in the northern regions beyond the barrier. They say the north was always cold and barren, and food was scarce. There were always too many orphans—children desperate for food.”
“So parents even sold their kids for money. And this particular curse... it was born in that setting. They say you put a hungry child inside a jar...”
Stella’s explanation was grueso.
They’d trap a small, scrawny child inside a jar—and continuously feed them sweet, delicious food.
If the child refused or tried to escape, they’d be beaten, whipped, and punished until they gave up.
Eventually, the child would stop trying to escape, passively accepting the food. So beca so afraid of escaping that they didn’t even try anymore.
And once the child grew fat enough to be wedged inside the jar—
That’s when they would be killed—stabbed or beheaded in a single stroke.
The child’s spirit, lured by sweetness and killed in that state, would then be sealed in the jar.
Thus completing the curse of the Hochungcheon Soul-Feeding Vessel.
Stella ended her explanation there.
In other words, the thing inside the jar was sothing truly vile.
And it had been buried beneath Ayra’s room.
Mirna said,
“A curse that feeds on a soul who died in gluttony and seduction. The target becos increasingly delirious, unable to escape from desire and indulgent thoughts.”
Listening to that, sothing clicked in .
Could Ayra’s recent ntal instability have been because of this jar?
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason.
After Bael disappeared, Ayra had to face herself—her own emotions, one by one. With sothing this malicious layered on top, no wonder she was breaking down.
It was wretched bad luck.
Just then, Mirna said firmly,
“Soone must’ve tried to spiritually assassinate the queen. I’m sure of it. They aid to spiritually corrupt her. It’s plausible.”
But Nare shook her head.
“It seems way too old. Probably just a coincidence. The queen just happened to be staying in a room where the jar had been buried long ago.”
Coincidence.
From their perspective, that was a valid assumption. But Ayra would never believe that.
The Demon King Solomon, who could see the future, had most likely arranged for the jar to be there—knowing she would eventually stay in that room.
Thinking that way, I started to sympathize with Ayra—her fear of plots and manipulation. Maybe, on so subconscious level, she had sensed all of this.
Glance.
I looked at her. Ayra was staring at the jar, eyes narrowed. Her expression was conflicted—maybe even tinged with pity and sorrow.
After a long silence, she spoke.
“How do we destroy it?”
Mirna answered,
“First, we need to dispel the curse. If you break the jar now, Lady Tarantella, you might suffer a rebound effect as the cursed vessel’s host.”
“Then how do we dispel it?”
“Curses that use souls are powerful—but easy to undo. Just exorcise or release the soul. Of course, in this case...”
Mirna trailed off mid-sentence.
Reviews
All reviews (0)