Chapter 29: Chapter 30: The Soldier’s Final Wish

Aurora calmly raised her sword and stabbed at the massive dog that had bitten into her.

Her swordsmanship was extraordinary—so remarkable that it surpassed even the kingdom’s top Swordmaster. Anyone who witnessed her wield a sword would praise her as having the finest technique they’d ever seen.

These two dogs were larger, stronger, and fiercer than the first one, but Aurora, having been through rigorous training, was far stronger.

The cold gleam of her blade flashed under the moonlight. Within moments, Aurora defeated the terrifying beasts.

The two dogs, bleeding profusely, fled in panic.

The blood they left behind painted an entire street red—red stained the bakery, the alchemist’s workshop, the luxurious inn, and the homes of the people. The blood even flowed into the river, turning its waters crimson.

From that day on, the capital had a street with houses forever marked red.

The soldier ran and ran, sprinting down the moonlit streets.

“Huff, huff, huff... I’m exhausted. Did I get away? Have I escaped that monster?”

The soldier thought back to the scene he’d just experienced—it felt like a dream.

“What a stunningly beautiful girl… but why is she so terrifying?” he wondered.

Having temporarily escaped danger, the love and desire he had forgotten in his earlier panic surged back. Suddenly, the soldier felt he shouldn’t have run so fast or so far. He even had the urge to turn around and go back.

“Maybe I can reason with her? She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. If I could stay by her side, that would be perfect.”

Just as the soldier slowed his steps, thinking he was safe, a rope lying by the roadside suddenly came to life. With a whoosh, it sprang up and coiled around him, binding him tightly.

The rope seemed imbued with life, writhing like a snake. No matter how the soldier struggled, he couldn’t break free.

“Well done! To defeat those three dogs, Aurora, you’ve proven yourself to be a warrior capable of standing on her own!”

Rhine appeared out of nowhere and applauded Aurora.

He had deliberately refrained from capturing the soldier earlier—he wanted to witness Aurora’s growth firsthand.

However, Aurora’s face showed no sign of victory or joy.

“Mentor, was the story that strange man told earlier true? Has the kingdom really been cursed?” The golden-haired girl wiped the blood from her face with one hand.

Rhine nodded gently.

“Yes, it’s true.”

It was something Rhine would have to tell Aurora sooner or later.

What truly worried him, however, was that the soldier had revealed something alarming—the neighboring kingdom of Enderland intended to expose the truth about the curse.

Fear is a weapon far more terrifying than swords or spears. If people learned that their kingdom was doomed to collapse in a few years, chaos would ensue. Order would disintegrate—farmers would abandon their fields, and soldiers would refuse to fight. Enderland could then swoop in and take everything. ȑᴀ𝐍ỐᛒÈ𝘚n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Aurora sighed regretfully.

“It’s a pity we let the villain who nearly killed Grandma Rosa escape.”

“No, I’ve captured him. He’ll face the judgment he deserves,” Rhine reassured her.

As he spoke, Rhine glanced back at the inn’s room. On the floor, the severely wounded dogs were nowhere to be seen—they had vanished as mysteriously as they had appeared. Clearly, they were still alive but would only reappear when summoned by their master.

From Rhine, the King and Queen learned about the soldier’s attempted abduction of their daughter.

They were furious and had the soldier arrested and thrown into the dungeon.

The soldier was locked up in a dark, suffocating cell.

The other prisoners in the same cell mocked him:

“Buddy, you’re gonna be hanged tomorrow.”

Terrified, the soldier frantically searched his body for the magical Tinderbox but realized it was gone.

“Oh no, this is so unlucky! I remember now—when I got tied up by that rope, the Tinderbox fell out and rolled into a gutter by the roadside!” He was utterly despairing.

The next morning, as dawn broke, the soldier peeked through the iron-barred window and saw crowds pouring out of the city to witness his execution.

He heard thunderous drumbeats, saw the King’s royal guards marching in formation, and glimpsed the King and Queen seated in a grand, ornate carriage. A large number of townspeople were heading toward the outskirts of the city.

“Even the King came. Did I really kidnap a princess?”

“No way! The creature I saw didn’t even look human.”

“Could it be that the King locked up the princess to hide the fact that she’s actually a monster?”

The soldier’s mind swirled with wild speculations. By now, he was more confused than ever about the truth.

At that moment, through the iron-barred window, the soldier spotted a hooded boy running fast among the crowd heading out of the city. The boy’s face was obscured by his cloak.

“Hey, kid! What’s the rush? There’s nothing worth seeing until I get there,” the soldier called out from behind the bars.

He then tried to entice the boy:

“If you help me retrieve something, I’ll give you four copper coins. But you must swear to run as fast as you can!”

The soldier explained where the Tinderbox had fallen. The hooded boy immediately ran toward the street where the soldier had previously lived.

“Please let it still be there,” the soldier prayed, kneeling in the dark, suffocating cell.

Before long, the hooded boy returned—far quicker than the soldier had anticipated.

When the soldier saw the boy holding the Tinderbox, he was so overjoyed he nearly jumped up.

“Here, this is your Tinderbox. Now, hand over the coins,” the boy said.

The soldier happily handed over the copper coins and tucked the Tinderbox into his pocket.

“Haha! My Tinderbox is still here! As long as I have it and the three dogs, the King won’t be able to execute me.”

What the soldier didn’t notice was that as the boy walked away from the iron bars, his back turned, a sinister smile curved his lips.

“Your wish has been granted.”

A few strands of silver hair slipped out from under the hood, swaying gently in the morning breeze.

Outside the city, a massive gallows had been erected. Surrounding it were the King’s guards and a huge crowd of citizens.

The King and Queen sat before the jury in the most prominent seats—two magnificent thrones that offered the best view of the execution.

The judge loudly proclaimed the soldier’s two crimes:

The first was attacking an innocent person with a sword. The second was kidnapping and attempting to violate an underage girl. The former seemingly referred to the incident with the old witch—though the soldier had no idea how they had discovered him.

The soldier was already standing on the execution platform.

As the executioner prepared to place the noose around his neck, the soldier suddenly shouted:

"I’ve heard that there’s a tradition in this kingdom. A criminal sentenced to death can make one final request before their punishment. If it’s a reasonable request, it should be granted."

“That is indeed true,” said the old King from the stands.

"Your Majesty, I have just one small request. I really, really want a smoke. Please, Your Majesty, merciful and just King, let me have one last cigarette before I die. Surely you wouldn’t deny me this final wish?"

The King agreed to the soldier’s request.

The soldier reached into his pocket and pulled out the Tinderbox. He struck it several times in quick succession, his face lighting up with an uncontrollable smile.

The soldier saw his future, yes, a glorious future:

The three dogs would appear to save him—one with eyes as large as teacups, another with eyes the size of water wheels, and the third with eyes even larger than the first two combined. They might still be wounded, or they might have magically healed. But whether injured or not, they were terrifying, powerful beasts.

These dogs would pounce on the judge, the jury, and the King’s guards, tearing off their legs, biting off their noses, and tossing them into the air. They would hurl them over ten meters high, letting them crash to the ground and splatter into pulp.

The King and Queen would meet the same fate. Or perhaps he would show them mercy and spare their lives—if he wanted to appear benevolent. The people would praise him for his mercy.

The surviving guards and the gathered townsfolk would be terrified of him. They would bow to him, escorting him to the King’s grand carriage. The three dogs would march alongside, protecting him as he took his place as the new King of the realm.

As for that golden-haired girl, whose status as a princess remained uncertain—“She’s a terrifying monster, but I swear, she’s also the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!” the soldier thought—who knew where she was now? If possible, he hoped to reconcile with her. After all, now that he was the esteemed King, no one could be more fitting as his Queen.

They would hold a grand wedding lasting eight days and nights. The three dogs would attend, their enormous eyes glaring larger than ever before.

After becoming King, he would indulge himself for two or three years. Before the curse-induced disaster struck, he would flee the kingdom with his Queen. With his three magical dogs, he could live well in any country.

The dream ended.

The soldier’s mouth twitched into a grin. The brief daydream had almost caused him to drool.

His gaze fixated on the Tinderbox in his hand.

Strike. Strike. Strike.

He struck it over and over.

But nothing happened.

Not a single dog appeared.

"Why?"

"How can this be?"

"Why isn’t my Tinderbox working?"

The soldier trembled violently with fear.

He even began to doubt whether everything he had experienced over the past month—the magical Tinderbox, the three dogs—had been nothing more than a morning dream, an impossible fantasy, much like the illusion he had just imagined.

“Looks like your Tinderbox got wet—it won’t light. Here, let me light that cigarette for you.”

The executioner chuckled, pulling out a Tinderbox of his own—an ordinary one without magic—and lit the cigarette for the soldier.

The cigarette was lit, but the soldier’s legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground with a thud.

For once, he spoke an absolute truth: this was indeed the last cigarette of his life.

The execution proceeded as planned.

The executioner placed the noose around the soldier’s neck and hoisted him into the air.

The crowd of onlookers erupted into cheers. They praised the King, the Queen, the judge, and the jury for ensuring that a deserving criminal had received justice.

Dangling in the air, the soldier saw among the cheering crowd several people he had met during his days as a wealthy man staying at an inn.

Just a few days ago, these “friends” had flattered him for his generosity, hoping to coax an extra silver coin from the nouveau riche soldier.

Clearly, they didn’t feel the slightest regret for their behavior now—they no longer had any reason to curry favor with the soldier.

The noose tightened mercilessly around his neck. As the soldier kicked in the air, his eyes bulged wider than ever before—almost as large as teacups.