The woman’s face was deathly pale. Her eyes were filled with disgust and a barely concealed trace of fear. She tightly gripped the curly-haired little girl, repeatedly inspecting the hand that had just held the stone, as if Winnie’s touch would leave behind some corrosive plague.
"I just... touched the stone..." Winnie cowered in fear, whispering her defense.
"Touched it? Who knows what your Demon bloodline might infect us with!" The woman screamed hysterically, then turned to the other terrified children. "You all saw that! Stay away from her! Touching her will give you Nightmares! You’ll get festering sores! She’s a filthy brat!"
With that, the agitated woman snatched up a wooden stick and raised it to strike Winnie, treating her as if she were driven livestock.
And Winnie truly looked as if she had done something wrong. She lowered her head and stared blankly at the fingertips that had touched the stone, as if some invisible filth really lingered there. The faint warmth in the space instantly vanished without a trace. She seemed to understand something—in this world, even the slightest touch was an impermissible luxury for her.
Her very existence was a mistake.
Just as little Winnie was about to be struck, a figure suddenly stepped in front of her.
"Enough!" Raine shouted angrily, forcefully grabbing the woman’s descending wrist and stopping it dead. His face was expressionless as he stared into the woman’s astonished eyes. "Only those with filthy hearts see filth in everything else."
Raine knew this was merely an illusion born from Winnie’s memories and that he couldn’t actually change the past, but he still had to do this. He already considered Winnie a true teammate, and she had genuinely been a tremendous help during this adventure. Therefore, even if this was just a phantasm in her mind, he would stand by her side. He could not just sit back and watch.
Terrified by the fierce glare in Raine’s eyes, the middle-aged woman stumbled backward. Screaming, she dragged the curly-haired little girl away and fled back into her house without looking back, slamming the door shut with a loud SLAM.
Raine immediately turned around, only to find that little Winnie had long since disappeared.
The scene quietly shifted.
It was still under a brilliant sun, yet it still lacked any trace of warmth. Winnie had grown a bit; she looked to be about eight or nine years old now, and that washed-out, coarse linen dress actually fit her properly.
She hid behind the water well in the town square, secretly watching a group of children play a game of heroes defeating monsters. Her gaze was even more timid than before, but her longing had grown far stronger. She wanted to join them so badly, even if it was just to play for a little while.
The curly-haired girl spotted her again and walked over. Winnie nervously tucked her tail, her thin frame stiffening.
"For you." The curly-haired girl smiled and offered her a small white daisy.
In that moment, it was as if Winnie’s heart had been illuminated. She immediately and carefully reached out her small hand, her face brimming with irrepressible joy. But just as her fingertips were about to brush the petals, the curly-haired girl suddenly yanked her hand back. She threw the flower onto the ground and viciously crushed it beneath her foot.
"Pfft! Demons don’t deserve flowers!" the curly-haired girl shrieked. She then ran back to the group of children, pointed at Winnie, and shouted, "Look! That filthy brat tried to touch my flower!"
The other children joined in the jeering. Imitating the curly-haired girl, they picked up twigs and small pebbles from the ground and hurled them at her.
"Get lost, monster!"
"Go back to Hell!"
Raine had been prepared. Like a towering mountain peak, he stood in front of little Winnie, shielding her from the barrage of stones and branches.
He couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. When they first met, that curly-haired girl clearly harbored a simple curiosity toward Winnie, even showing a hint of kindness. But this time was entirely different. He could almost guess what had happened—that middle-aged woman must have polluted her pure heart with fear and prejudice, twisting a friendship that might have sprouted into a hurtful, venomous sting.
Little Winnie didn’t cry. She only bit her lower lip tightly, but the absolute despair in her eyes sent a shock through Raine’s heart. She looked down at the crushed daisy in the dirt, as if finally confirming that beautiful things would never belong to her.
And that she was unworthy of them.
"Winnie, their malice does not define you!" Raine tried to keep calling out to her, but it still had no effect.
However, he could sense that the barrier around her seemed to have thinned a bit.
The scene shifted once again.