Chapter 57
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Chapter 57
She couldn't imagine Yurien de Harden Kirie without his hatred for the Demonic Sword's demon.
A dream from a few days ago surfaced in her mind. A corpse speaking with a smile. A corpse mocking her—how dare you love me? Emotions flooded over her, surging beyond the walls of reason. That wave reached her fingertips. Her hand resting on the Amethyst trembled. She drew the sword in a half-delirious state.
The moment she pointed it toward Yurien de Harden Kirie, she realized a different problem.
The blade's tip, aimed straight ahead, rested at his chest. Beyond the cold metal stood a pale man. She gripped an object made to cut people and pointed it toward him.
A blade. A pale man. Spreading crimson blood. Death. Before the Fountain, a mountain of corpses, a man she had killed, eyes that couldn't close. Nightmarish memories that came rushing back all at once.
Her heart seized with terror, convulsing wildly. Her breathing quickened. Color drained from her face in an instant. The blade's tip trembled beyond her control. Tears pooled in her eyes, and Yurien de Harden Kirie's figure beyond the blade blurred into obscurity.
[Hey, what's wrong with you?]
Demonic Sword Bardegiosa. Murderous intent. Malice. Things that had stained and controlled her body. The moment she heard the Demonic Sword's voice, a sticky sensation wrapped around her fingertips like killing intent. A darkening fantasy appeared before her eyes. Echinacea Loaz shuddered and hurled the sword in her hand away. She covered her mouth with her hand as if she might scream at any moment. Then she stepped back.
"Echinacea Loaz?"
Yurien de Harden Kirie, noticing something was wrong with her, approached in confusion. Echinacea retreated as he drew near. Then he stopped advancing. His face as pale as hers, he couldn't bring himself to approach further, watching her carefully instead.
"Echinacea Loaz."
A soothing, aching voice. She had no mind left to decipher what lay within that call. Echinacea shook her head frantically. She retreated further. Yurien de Harden Kirie clenched his teeth. Just as he was about to say something.
Both Echinacea Loaz and Yurien de Harden Kirie turned their heads at once. In the darkness below the valley, crimson lights flickered one by one, like the fierce eyes of beasts. Amid the howling shouts, rough footsteps, and that clamor, a savage command rose like a flag.
"The witch! Bring the witch!"
Yurien de Harden Kirie crouched low and approached the valley. Echinacea Loaz picked up the Amethyst she had discarded. As she did, she quickly wiped away the tears that had gathered. Her heart still raced wildly, and her hand holding the sword still trembled, but her face had regained its composure.
Had Echinacea Loaz been someone who couldn't move when she needed to because emotions overwhelmed her, she would have been consumed by the Demonic Sword long ago, never granted a second chance to turn back time. She quickly steadied herself. She regulated her breathing and approached the valley, gripping the Amethyst.
The atmosphere below had descended into something like collective madness. About a dozen people held torches aloft. Among the large adults lay a small child sprawled on the ground. A crude rope noose was pulled tight around the child's neck like a leash. Long ashen hair, tangled like beast fur from neglect, swayed limply. An old man behind kicked the child and shouted.
"You damned thing! My son died because of you!"
"What did you do to our village!"
"Little witch! Did you devour your own mother too?"
"Bring oil, oil! We must burn the witch to kill her completely!"
The man who appeared to be the ringleader waved his torch excitedly. Beneath the reddish firelight, the sparsely visible faces were all twisted like demons. Several carried wooden barrels and drenched a ramshackle shelter with oil. The ringleader grabbed the child by the collar with one hand and lifted him up.
After confirming all of this and assessing the situation, Yurien de Harden Kirie adjusted his grip on the Holy Sword. He spoke in a quick tone.
"Echinacea Loaz, that child is likely the Owner of Elgiosa. I'll hold back the people, so may I entrust the child to you?"
"Yes, Lord."
Echinacea Loaz answered briefly. He didn't turn to look at her. Despite having witnessed her wavering moments before, he didn't check on her condition. As long as she said she would do it, there was no need for doubt.
He stepped on protruding rocks and trees as he leaped down into the valley. It was almost like falling. Echinacea Loaz followed him down as well. Her ivory dress fluttered in the darkness.
Meanwhile, the ringleader hurled the child into the oil-soaked shelter. He closed the door and dragged wooden barrels and rocks in front of it to prevent the child from escaping. It seemed he intended to burn the child to death along with the shelter.
[This feels great! Incredibly intense.]
The Demonic Sword hummed with satisfaction. Bardegiosa would surely revel in the malice and murderous intent flooding the valley. Echinacea Loaz furrowed her brow. The trembling in her hand completely vanished, and her heart began to race for a different reason. Even if that child wasn't the Owner of Giosa, she had no intention of watching a small child burn to death before her eyes. Urgency seized her.
Yurien de Harden Kirie reached the bottom first. A man was bringing a torch close to ignite the shelter. Yurien de Harden Kirie threw Rangiosa without hesitation. The Holy Sword precisely severed the upper part of the torch the man held and pierced into the ground.
"Ugh!"
The man, holding the torch with only its end remaining, froze in shock. The gazes of the startled people turned toward the direction the white sword had come from.
"What, what is this?"
"Where did that sword suddenly come from..."
When Yurien de Harden Kirie emerged from the darkness in his white uniform, they looked as if they'd seen a ghost. The ignorant villagers didn't recognize the insignia or emblem of the Changtian Knights, but his mere appearance made it clear he was no ordinary person. Anxious voices drifted among them.
"W-who are you..."
Yurien de Harden Kirie approached them. His pace was unhurried. That composed demeanor became a heavy pressure that weighed down the surroundings. Eyes as cold as frost swept across the crowd. Whoever met his gaze flinched, lowering their heads or averting their eyes.
Though Yurien de Harden Kirie was alone and the villagers numbered over ten, the people naturally stepped aside to let him pass. A frozen silence descended over the flickering madness. He slowly crossed through their midst and grasped Rangiosa, which was planted in the ground. Then, turning his back to the shelter, he stood and looked down at the cowering ringleader.
The ringleader appeared to be a middle-aged man in his forties. Yurien de Harden Kirie didn't point his sword at him—he merely let it hang at his side—yet the man's expression suggested a blade pressed against his throat. Yurien spoke in a dry tone.
"Which village do you hail from?"
"W-who, who are you, sir?"
"I am the Commander of the Changtian Knights. I asked which village you belong to."
"Ch-Changtian...?"
Their vacant confusion swiftly transformed into murmuring unease, and it didn't take long for shock to set in. Even those ignorant enough not to recognize Changtian's insignia understood the weight of the Changtian Knights. Ignoring their anxious whispers, Yurien fixed his gaze upon the ringleader and spoke quietly.
"Don't make me ask a third time."
His downward gaze was heavy with authority. The ringleader swallowed hard and barely managed an answer.
"W-we're from G-Goth Village. It's north of here..."
While Yurien dealt with the villagers, I was smashing through the Shelter's windows. Without using sword energy, it was difficult to open the door barricaded with rocks and wooden beams, so breaking the window was faster. Oil clung thickly to the amethyst as I struck down the wooden shutter.
I quickly cleared away the shattered shutter and leaped inside. The interior was absolute darkness. Light from the torches outside seeped through the broken window I'd created, wavering and uncertain. I used that glow to survey the space. The child huddled in a corner, arms wrapped around their head. Their small, curled body was diminutive.
I deliberately made no effort to mask my footsteps as I approached. Each click of my heels made the child's shoulders flinch. A rope noose still hung around their slender neck.
I wasn't skilled at handling children. I was accustomed to a childish Demonic Sword, but this was an actual child. Still, I understood well enough that I couldn't simply drag away a terrified child who'd nearly burned to death moments ago. Forcing them out would only traumatize them further, already trembling with fear. With Yurien outside, there was no danger of fire.
I decided to calm the child first. I crouched down in front of them. The hem of my dress touched the floor, soaking up the spilled oil and becoming soiled, but I paid it no mind. I made my voice as gentle as possible.
"It's alright. I won't hurt you."
The child trembled violently, then moved as though trying to burrow into the wall itself. They clawed at the stone. Blood marked where their nails scraped. They were clearly out of their mind with terror. I wasn't even sure if they understood my words.
I hesitated briefly, then extended my hand with deliberate slowness. My lace-gloved fingers touched the child's filthy, wounded feet. The child flinched, their toes curling inward. Crouched in the corner with nowhere left to retreat and no way to hide their feet, their entire body shook violently. A whimper escaped them, as though they were holding back tears.
"I came to save you."
I whispered the words while cradling the child's feet in my hands. Like a bird's wing sheltering an egg, I covered their parched, bare feet. My warmth transmitted through the thin gloves. Speaking carefully in that position, I continued.
"My name is Echinacea Loaz. You can call me Echinacea, or just call me sister. What's your name?"
At my words, the child lifted their head slightly from where they'd buried it. Between the forearms they held defensively over their head, a pair of large gray eyes stared blankly outward.
'Gray hair, gray eyes... A Sol Child.'
The Sol—a stateless people who wandered across the entire continent. They lived as nomads without fixed settlements, surviving through divination, acrobatics, music, and peddling wares. Those who formed no collective were easily rejected by society and received no protection. They became easy targets for discrimination and crime.
I could piece together what had happened. Something unfortunate had occurred in that village, and this Sol Child had been blamed as the cause. I'd need to investigate the details, but the pattern was obvious. Calling a child—one who could become an Elgiosa Owner, a role requiring one to have never harbored hatred toward another—a witch was utterly infuriating.
"Will you tell me your name?"
I met the child's eyes and asked again.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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