Chapter 1: Prologue

　　Thump.

　　Something soft and surprisingly heavy struck the floor. A young girl asleep among the other children snapped her eyes open and turned toward the sound. Hailey’s stuffed rabbit, which Luina had washed the previous evening and left on the windowsill to dry, now lay on the floor.

　　The wind?

　　The night was far too calm for a sudden gust. Luina raised her gaze and watched the curtain sway gently for a moment before her mouth hardened into a grim line.

　　No, it wasn’t the wind.

　　A breeze that faint could never have knocked down a stuffed toy that had not yet fully dried. Something must have pushed its way inside.

　　Luina’s clear blue eyes, bright even in the darkness, went cold in an instant. Only seconds had passed since she awakened, yet not a trace of sleep remained in them.

　　If it were a mouse, it could not have knocked the rabbit down. It would simply have climbed over it.

　　Whatever had entered must be larger and stronger, small enough to slip through a gap barely a handspan wide, yet intelligent enough to hold its breath and listen for signs of movement.

　　A monster.

　　The moment Luina reached that conclusion, she drew a deep breath, sprang to her feet, and snatched up the wooden sword beside her pillow. She had kept it within reach ever since a mysterious monster killed Jenny, who had only just turned four, six months earlier.

　　Jenny had seemed to be coming down with a cold that day, so Luina had put her to bed early before taking the other children to bathe. The bath had been as cheerful as ever. But the moment Luina returned to the second floor, an unfamiliar metallic stench filled the hall.

　　Blood.

　　Seized by dread, Luina had raced to the bedroom and flung open the door, only to find Jenny already dead. Something had savaged her small body and left her crumpled on the floor.

　　“Jenny!”

　　“No, Luina! Don’t go near her!”

　　“But Director! Jenny—”

　　“An animal couldn’t have opened a closed window. If a monster did this, you mustn’t touch her. As for her body…” He had released a heavy sigh. “It has to be burned.”

　　Luina squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, forcing the most terrible memory of her life back into the depths of her mind. She would carry it with her until the day she died, but now she had to focus on the enemy before her.

　　Steadying her breathing, Luina slowly surveyed the room. Something black was huddled in the corner. At first glance, its size and dark fur made it resemble a mole, but no mole could have scaled the outside wall to reach a second-story room.

　　The unknown creature became aware of Luina and turned toward her.

　　Luina did not move. She merely tightened her grip on the wooden sword.

　　For a time, the nine-year-old girl and the monster watched each other warily. In the end, it was the rude intruder who lost patience first. With a shriek, the creature reared up and bared its claws.

　　When it opened its jaws in warning, unnaturally long, sharp fangs gleamed even in the faint moonlight. Yet Luina’s unyielding presence kept it from lunging at her outright.

　　Her keen gaze swept over the intruder, rapidly assessing every detail. Its long fangs marked it as a bloodsucking monster, while its small body suggested that it preyed on children rather than adults. Nocturnal monsters were known to be highly venomous, though their eyesight was poor.

　　If only I could get the lamp from the hallway, Luina thought. But the instant she left, at least one of the children behind her would die.

　　What should I do? Call for the director? What if that only agitated it further?

　　As the standoff dragged on, the monster grew increasingly agitated, drool dripping from its jaws at the scent of the babies. Whenever it edged forward, Luina swept her wooden sword through the air with a sharp whistle, forcing it back. The room balanced on the brink of violence.

　　“Luina, I need to pee…” A quiet voice shattered the silence.

　　The monster sprang the instant Luina’s attention faltered. Its leap carried it much farther than she had expected. Luina flinched, but only for a fraction of a second, before whipping her wooden sword into its body.

　　Thwack!

　　The blow landed squarely with a heavy crack. Yet the monster neither retreated nor made a sound. It merely resumed searching for another opening. A sharp breath escaped between Luina’s tightly pressed lips. What even is that thing?

　　A brutal struggle erupted between the monster, desperate to reach its prey, and Luina, who stood before the children like a fortress wall. Behind her, the children began to whimper, frightened by the commotion in the darkness. Every nerve in Luina’s body drew taut.

　　“L-Luina…”

　　“Everyone, pull your blankets over your heads! Don’t come out, no matter what!”

　　Each time the monster moved, Luina struck with perfect accuracy. But it was too fast and too resilient for a wooden sword to inflict a fatal wound. Frustrated by its inability to slip past her and reach the children, the monster abandoned that strategy and attacked her head-on instead.

　　For the first time, dismay crossed Luina’s face.

　　This is bad.

　　“Ugh!” Luina jerked her arm back before the creature could bite down, but one vicious fang raked across her forearm, tearing a deep gash into it. The taste of blood drove the creature into a frenzy. Its eyes flared red as it lunged at Luina once more.

　　Just then, the door flew open with a deafening crash, and bright lamplight flooded the small room. The monster shrieked and wheeled away from the light. Luina seized the opening and drove her right foot into it with all her strength. Until then, she had taken great care not to let any part of the creature touch her.

　　Now, none of that mattered.

　　The monster slammed into the wall and collapsed, its body going limp. Only then did the tension finally drain from Luina’s limbs.

　　“Luina! Are you all right?”

　　“Please don’t come any closer, Director.”

　　Dominic hurriedly hung the lamp on the wall, then went ashen at the sight of blood streaming down Luina’s arm. He rushed to examine the creature sprawled in the corner. The moment he recognized it, his eyes widened in horror.

　　“W-Were you bitten by the Tamacula?”

　　“Its fang only grazed me. More importantly, it may still be alive. We need to burn it before it wakes up.”

　　Luina’s voice was unnaturally calm for a nine-year-old. Dominic clenched his jaw. If she had been exposed to Tamacula venom, there was likely nothing they could do.

　　Suppressing the panic threatening to overwhelm him, Dominic gave a small nod. Luina was right. Thirty-seven other young lives still depended on him.

　　“Oh, goodness! What in the world… Luina!”

　　“Sister Verda, please take the children to another bedroom. They must be frightened, so warm some milk for them.” Dominic’s voice trembled. “Before that, tell Brother Anselmo to come upstairs. Have him bring a shovel and a sack.”

　　“Yes… Yes, Director.”

　　Luina gave the already tearful woman a small smile.

　　Her expression tightened briefly when two-year-old Hailey, who always called for Luina when she woke at night, reached toward her with both arms.

　　But once all the children had left the room, Luina quickly regained her composure.

　　It was the adults who could not conceal their devastation.

　　“We should treat the poison first,” Dominic urged.

　　“You know it won’t help.”

　　“We must try everything we can.”

　　“Getting rid of that thing is more urgent. We need to kill it before it wakes up.” Luina glanced down at the blood dripping from her arm. “But I shouldn’t keep bleeding everywhere, so please wrap it in a bandage.”

　　Brother Anselmo came rushing upstairs with a shovel. He stopped short at the sight of the ruined room and the blood streaming down Luina’s arm, his mouth falling open in horror.

　　Luina kept up her brave smile to the very end. Only after they had burned the unconscious Tamacula, along with every rag used to wipe away her spilled blood, did she finally allow herself to relax.

* * *

　　The atmosphere in the director’s office was unbearably heavy.

　　Sister Verda, who had first discovered Luina abandoned outside the orphanage before her umbilical cord had even been cut, had cried until she was nearly unconscious. The other sisters had not stopped weeping either.

　　“Why didn’t you… run away?” the director asked.

　　“Because six of my younger siblings were in that room,” Luina answered.

　　“Does your wound… hurt?”

　　“It throbs a little, but I’m fine.”

　　“And you aren’t dizzy? Or nauseous?”

　　“Not at all.”

　　At Luina’s calm answers, Dominic’s expression shifted. Until then, he had been swallowing his grief with great difficulty, but now something else stirred beneath it.

　　Nearly an hour had passed since Luina’s exposure to the Tamacula’s venom. The symptoms should have appeared by now. No, a child as young as Luina should already have been fighting for her life.

　　Dominic carefully pressed a hand to Luina’s forehead. A faint glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.

　　She had no fever.

　　The most basic symptom of poisoning was absent. Which meant…

　　“Luina, are you certain the Tamacula’s fang… scratched you?”

　　“Yes. I saw it cut me.”

　　“Is that so?” Dominic’s voice rose slightly, tinged with a flicker of excitement.

　　The nuns, their eyes swollen from crying, turned toward him with desperate hope.

　　“Director, could it be…?”

　　“Yes. I cannot be certain, but it seems… Luina may be a witian.”

　　“Oh, Lord.”

　　The nuns crossed themselves with trembling hands, then rushed to Luina and wrapped her in their arms. Brother Anselmo, who had been sniffling beside the doorway, began murmuring a prayer of thanks.

　　“Oh, my sweet girl. Thank goodness. Thank heavens.”

　　“Thank you, Lord. Thank you.”

　　Luina smiled brightly as the sisters stroked her hair and fussed over her like a baby. Even then, she remembered to keep her bandaged right arm from touching them.

　　Dominic watched her with an ache in his chest, then recalled a long-forgotten memory from years before.

　　“This child’s name is Luina?”

　　“Yes, Bishop. It was engraved on the bracelet she was wearing.” Dominic had hesitated before asking, “Do you know anything about her parents?”

　　The elderly bishop, whose hair and even eyebrows had turned white, gazed at the sleeping child for a long time. Then he slowly shook his head.

　　“We are all children of the Lord.”

　　Why had that day returned to him now? Nearly ten years had passed, and not once had that conversation crossed his mind. Dominic shook his head firmly, trying to cast off the unease creeping over him.

　　Whatever fate awaited Luina, she had survived tonight. For now, that was enough. She would never die at the hands of a monster, and that, too, was a blessing.

　　“Luina, you should go to bed now. You must have been frightened.”

　　“I’m fine. I think the sisters were more frightened than I was, so you should all get some rest.”

　　Luina reached out with her small hand to comfort Sister Verda, who was still trembling. As he watched her, Dominic prayed more fervently than ever.

My brave, beautiful daughter.

May your future always be filled with grace.

May every path you walk be blessed.

May you be loved beyond measure and called to a worthy purpose.

And… may there always be loving hands beside you to protect and care for you.

* * *

　　A boy lay asleep in a broad, sumptuous bed, breathing deeply and evenly. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He sat up, drew back the canopy, and stepped onto the floor. Every movement was graceful and precise as he slipped into the silk robe lying neatly across the table.

　　He opened the tall window and stepped onto the balcony. Without hesitation, he raised his head.

　　Moonlight washed over his pale, striking features, lending them an almost otherworldly glow. High in the black sky, directly where his gaze had fallen, a single white star shone clear and bright.

　　“Hmm.”

　　A faint sound of interest slipped through his barely parted lips, though his indifferent expression remained unchanged. Only the keen light in his eyes deepened, almost imperceptibly.