"Now…"
One of the shadows stepped forward — specifically the shorter one. He grabbed the lever of the guillotine and stared with ruby-red eyes at the restrained Goliath before speaking:
"Any last words, White Goliath?"
Goliath raised his head toward the sky, looking at the crimson moon staining the calm night with blood. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
"I don't think they'll truly be my last words… but I'll tell you something…"
"Know this, bastard… I will hunt you to the ends of the world. You will never escape my claws. Even death itself won't save you from me. Remember that… Helmont!"
His terrifying voice echoed throughout the great hall. Adam felt immense pressure weighing down the air around him. One of the shadows laughed while lowering the guillotine lever.
"Farewell, fool."
The sharp silver blade passed through the white fur with its silver shine.
The snow-like fur turned crimson.
It all happened in a single second.
The white fur was stained blood-red, the light faded from his blue eyes until only darkness remained, and the severed head fell beneath the guillotine.
White Goliath was dead.
At that moment, Adam felt the strange pressure in the air gradually disappear. But it was replaced by something else — a rotten, suffocating smell.
Peeking from between the wooden seats of the church stage, Adam saw nine of the ten floating figures disappear as though they had never existed. Only their leader remained.
The figure turned toward the place where Adam was hiding. His red pupils scanned every corner of the stage.
Adam held his breath and forced himself completely still, afraid of sharing the same fate as the white wolf.
A few moments later, the final shadow vanished into the void as well.
'Thank God…'
Adam let out a heavy breath, trying to steady himself. After making sure no one remained nearby, he rose from between the seats and slowly walked toward the execution platform.
His steps felt strangely heavy.
Even in death, the creature still radiated pressure with every step Adam took closer to it.
Only one thought filled his mind — perhaps a strange thought born from staring into something unknown…
The unknown itself.
'Why am I walking toward this headless monster?'
It was a strange question, yet Adam felt he already knew the answer.
Before the Horn Blood created this twisted cycle with our cursed blood, Adam had heard many conversations among the curse bearers themselves.
They spoke of the Execution Ring.
Of its effects on curse bearers.
Of the abilities and traits hidden within the blood since birth.
And once someone was infected by the curse, it was only a matter of time before the curse devoured those traits.
It was a plague that consumed everything.
Yet over the ages, many groups had developed methods to resist it…
—or more accurately, suppress and restrain it.
Everyone prayed desperately for powerful traits and abilities…
But…
'What kind of trait could possibly make me this curious?'
Running away would've been natural. Ever since entering the circle, Adam had carved his way through the necks of living corpses.
But those corpses were insignificant due to the fragility of their bodies.
This creature was different.
He had witnessed the overwhelming presence dwelling within it.
Adam stepped into the pool of blood flowing from the platform and down the stairs. The blood felt muddy beneath his feet, unnaturally thick. Its crimson color resembled crystal more than liquid.
His body trembled with every step.
His hair stood on end.
Sweat covered his entire body.
'Why do I…?'
At last, he climbed onto the platform. He looked at the headless beast lying beneath his feet.
Beside one claw rested its severed head peacefully.
Adam froze.
His mind resisted.
But his body obeyed.
'Why do I feel like I should…?'
The feeling pulling him toward the beast was like metal irresistibly drawn toward another magnet.
Eventually, metal loses its will and follows the pull.
And Adam did the same.
Finally, his mind surrendered to his body.
"This Ring is nothing more than memories from thousands of years ago. Everything here already happened before… We're only reliving the roles of people long buried in their graves…"
"But if I break the cycle… does that mean I can leave this place?"
Countless thoughts crossed his mind as moonlight slipped between his fingers.
Was his bloodline connected to this Ring somehow?
Why had his sister appeared now?
And why did the season itself feel like it wanted to kill him—
He reached forward and knelt down, touching the beast's head and fur.
At that moment, for some reason, he remembered the counting:
"92… 93… 94…"
His body trembled violently.
His ribs shook.
His breathing nearly stopped.
He touched the beast's soft fur and its extinguished blue eyes.
The moment he looked into those eyes, he heard a voice calling from deep within himself.
It was a whisper no ear could hear—
yet at the same time, a scream no heart could ignore.
In a quiet unconscious voice, he whispered:
"White Goliath…"
Warmth spread beneath his hand — specifically on the beast's forehead.
Suddenly, the wolf's eyes ignited red.
A deafening roar burst from its dead throat.
Adam stumbled backward in terror and fell from the wooden platform into the pool of blood below.
The smell of blood and smoke overwhelmed him.
The sticky warmth of the blood made him deeply uncomfortable.
His black robe was completely soaked with the beast's fresh blood.
Then he felt weight in his left hand.
He raised it and saw a gray metallic box covered in mysterious hieroglyphic writings carved across every surface. It had a circular lid darker than the rest of the box.
Flames rose throughout the church.
Within the dancing firelight beneath the moon, Adam caught sight of glowing red eyes—
and the shadow of a massive creature that appeared to be headless.
Adam turned and ran, trying to escape both the flames and whatever lurked within them.
Once outside, he looked back to see the church transformed into a mountain of raging fire.
He breathed heavily as sweat poured down his body. Ash covered parts of his skin, and his nose burned from the thick smoke.
Then he heard the voice again, closer to his heart this time.
Unconsciously, he muttered:
"White Goliath… come to me…"
Threads of ash emerged from the heart of the burning church.
Adam stood frozen in shock.
'What the hell is happening…?'
The ash surrounded him from every direction, spiraling around him in a perfect pattern. He could clearly see every tiny particle drifting through the air.
He opened the gray box and saw a black void inside so deep he could swear it had no bottom, even while staring directly into it.
The ash gathered like a flowing river and began pouring into the darkness within the box.
The strange process lasted several minutes.
Pressure filled the air while the hieroglyphic writings glowed faintly.
When the final particle entered the box, Adam noticed a sentence appear on the side facing him.
He had no idea why he could understand it.
The language was completely foreign.
Yet somehow…
he understood it.
Tonight had become far too strange.
'Give it a name.'
Adam stared at the words as realization slowly settled in.
Had he already made his decision long ago?
There was no room left for hesitation or fear now.
So he spoke the name:
"Joul."
The hieroglyphic symbols rearranged themselves and carved the name into the box.
Then—
A cloud of ash exploded outward.
Two glowing blue eyes appeared within the ash.
A growl tore through the roar of the flames.
And beneath the moonlight emerged a white wolf with silver-shining fur.
Its size was slightly larger than a normal wolf, nearly as large as a grown man.
Its claws were black like polished metal, its fangs gleamed sharply, and Joul's tail stood proudly behind him.
Adam stared at the wolf before him as realization finally dawned on him.
"Did this wolf… become mine?"
'99… 100.'