Helag remembered the arm on the dining table outside and realized it looked a lot like Robert's.
Robert had distinctive marks on his hands from years of using daggers.
"No wonder it looked familiar…"
When Helag saw the arm earlier, it seemed familiar, but he hadn't connected it to Robert.
He had just seen Robert outside through the window, so how could he be dismembered so quickly?
Helag put down the family photo and left the room without touching the leg.
The arm remained on the table as Helag passed by.
He checked the other two rooms on the second floor, finding another arm and leg.
These rooms also had photos, both group and individual, but none had faces.
After thoroughly searching the second floor, Helag moved up to the third floor.
He recalled that from outside, the third floor seemed like an attic.
Upon reaching the third floor, he found it was indeed a low attic, requiring him to duck to avoid hitting his head.
As he looked down, he noticed something and stopped.
A long trail of blood led to the window at the far end of the attic.
Following the blood, Helag found a head placed under the window.
"Robert…"
He recognized the head, though it was marred by deep, gruesome wounds, making it hard to identify.
Helag observed for a moment. "The wounds look like they were made by an axe, very deep."
The flesh around the wounds was peeled back, exposing the bone.
"Did you die so horribly?"
Helag felt a pang of guilt, as he had asked Robert to guide him. Seeing Robert dead in such a manner made him feel responsible.
Robert had died in this place, and Helag couldn't even take his body out.
"I need to find a way out," Helag shook his head, knowing he was in danger too, and needed to escape.
If Robert's death was real, Helag might not be far from a similar fate.
Despite being a great knight, Robert had been killed without a sound.
Helag scanned the attic, finding only clutter and no sign of the axe that killed Robert.
After searching the attic with no results, he headed back downstairs.
He had explored the entire house but found nothing else.
"If Robert is dead, where's the rest of his body?" Helag wondered.
Thinking as he descended, he returned to the first floor.
Helag approached the window to check if Robert was still outside, but as he got closer, he saw a face pressed against the glass.
Robert's face was pressed against the window, peering inside, seemingly looking for Helag.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Suddenly, loud banging came from upstairs, as if someone was smashing a door with a heavy object.
A chill ran down Helag's spine. He felt a strong sense of danger from upstairs.
"I need to get out of here!"
His heart raced, the feeling of impending doom growing stronger.
The banging stopped abruptly, and the house fell silent. Helag felt the temperature drop.
Turning, he saw a little girl on the stairs to the second floor, wearing a red plaid dress and holding a doll.
The girl's face, like in the photos, had no features, but Helag felt she was watching him.
"Is she smiling?"
Helag had the eerie sensation that the girl was smiling at him.
Suddenly, a mouth appeared on the girl's featureless face, revealing white teeth with red threads between them.
Helag felt no warmth from the smile, only a chill down his spine.
Fire elemental particles gathered in his hand, forming a small Fireball spell.
The girl seemed unafraid, smiling as she slowly descended the stairs towards Helag.
Helag noticed the doll in her hand was a Cursed Doll.
"Could the Cursed Doll in my space ring have come from here? That wizard got it but died outside Creek Valley Town…" Helag thought, recognizing the doll as a powerful curse spell material, though different in appearance from the one in his ring.
He had no time to consider taking the doll, focusing instead on escaping.
At that moment, there was movement at the door.
The sound of a key turning in the lock made the girl stop.
A key entered the lock, turned, and with a click, the door opened.
A bearded man walked in, an axe embedded in his head.
The axe was lodged deep in his forehead, but he seemed unaware, looking delighted to see Helag. "It's you! Thanks for the butterbeer."
"Blacksmith?" Helag was stunned, recognizing the blacksmith from the tavern.
But the blacksmith looked different now, with an axe in his head and his eyes turned gray.
His skin had a greenish hue, looking inhuman.
The blacksmith smiled awkwardly, his stiff face making the smile eerie.
He glanced at the girl, feigning anger. "Go back! Don't be rude to our guest!"
The girl clutched her doll, trembling as if scared.
She turned and ran upstairs, disappearing quickly.
The cold sensation around Helag vanished, and he felt relieved.
"You should leave now. You don't belong here," the blacksmith said after the girl left.
Helag nodded. "Thank you!"
The blacksmith had clearly helped him. Without him, Helag didn't know what the terrifying girl might have done, and he doubted he could have handled it.
The blacksmith sighed. "Not many in this town can stay sane. Well, not many can be called people."
He gave a bitter smile. "You should go quickly. I can't guarantee how long I'll stay sane. It could get dangerous. Go now!"