The Sinner of the Black Hand (2)
Memories of Subordination were brief. Little research had been done on it, and even less was known. What was clear was that it targeted ordinary humans.
Isaac had learned of it only at the very end of his previous life, during the final battle. The memory remained vivid.
Flames and smoke billowed on all sides as the fortress called Everholt, defended by the Great Master and her disciples, crumbled. What had become of Silberna, who had held the walls? What of the Great Master's other disciples? Was the Great Master safe? Lost in such anxious thoughts, Isaac gazed up at the sky.
The transcendents' overwhelming presence made even fleeing with a staff impossible. He simply stood, ready to accept death in silence.
Then, an old nemesis appeared.
"Brother-in-law! Krrgh! Long time no see!"
Few called him "brother-in-law." And no one in Helmont spoke so frivolously.
'Alois?'
"Whoa, I really didn't expect you to still be alive, brother-in-law!"
His once-lustrous red hair had dulled, his sclera blackened with hints of madness. The two horns sprouting from his head signified the loss of his humanity.
"Hahaha! What a nostalgic face!"
'How are you...?'
"After Helmont cast me out, they picked me up! Haha! And you, brother-in-law? How've you been? That leg I crippled still the same?"
'......!'
Alois, who had lusted after his own sister, had been banished from Helmont after failing to hide his depraved desires.
"Ah, this is perfect. Really perfect. I can finally kill you. I could never forgive you for ever touching my sister even once."
'You've become one of their subordinates?'
"Of course. Lucky to be a son of mighty Helmont. Even after being exiled, that name lets me rampage like this."
The transcendents would want strong humans for Subordination. Helmont made the perfect vessel.
"Surprisingly, Subordination suits me well. Ahh, Helmont! Glorious Helmont!"
The greatsword in Alois's hand writhed. Isaac knew it would soon sever his neck.
'In the end.'
The one who ruined his life. The one to end it.
Alois.
"Where's sister's body?"
Alois licked his protruding fangs. Seeing his unyielding obsession with Lianna, Isaac sighed—
—just as a red line slashed across his throat.
Splurt!
Alois collapsed, unaware of his own death, spewing black blood. Beyond him stood the Great Master, gripping her massive greatsword.
"What a foul stench of blood."
Her wolf ears perked, she gave Isaac a wry smile.
* * *
"Gah!"
Meladic's scream echoed as his back slammed into a tree. The flapping in the forest suggested nearby wild beasts had been startled. Snow from the branches buried him, blocking Pollu's follow-up strike.
"Kuhahaha!"
Pollu cackled gleefully, whipping his head around for his next target.
"Ah, you I hate."
He crooked a finger at Isaac. Sharen blocked his grotesque, propelled charge.
Clang!
"Ngh!"
Red Aura surged from her body. The Helmonts' unique aura often served like armor, halting Pollu's advance.
"Helmont lost earlier! You lost, so why charge again?!"
"Shut up!"
Their blades locked in a test of strength. Sharen bent her knees slightly, digging her toes into the ground. Veins bulged; her greatsword trembled with her full effort.
"Move! Move it! MOVE!"
Snow swirled. Black aura spread, devouring her deep crimson glow. Remembering being swallowed by black liquid, Sharen nearly panicked—but
"Push!"
Isaac's shout from behind made her grit her teeth, eyes fierce.
In that instant, her Red Aura erupted forward.
Crimson Flame Wave.
The Helmont signature technique. Steel-hard aura blazed like fierce flames, shoving Pollu back.
And in that moment—
Isaac passed Sharen, dual-gripping Peulseon, and thrust.
Crunch!
Aimed at Pollu's chest—where the "bone" was embedded.
"Gaaaaah!"
Unlike before, he screamed in agony. Twisting in shock to deflect the blade, he fled dramatically.
"Ow! Krrgh! It hurts! Hurts! IT HURTS!"
"Hah! Hah! It... works, Isaac."
"......"
Sharen panted. Her Red Aura had weakened from the Crimson Flame Wave's backlash.
"Anna, Meladic?"
"He's fine. No worries."
"Ngh."
Anna pulled Meladic from the snowdrift. He'd broken something on impact; his face twisted in pain.
No respite—
"Yooou! You I hate!"
Pollu pointed accusingly at Isaac.
"Me you hate?"
Isaac raised his dual swords to chest height, ready to counter.
"You're just like me! Abandoned by your family! Treated like trash!"
"Ahem!"
Sharen coughed awkwardly.
"Why do you work so hard every day?! It makes me look pathetic! Because of you! Even as a commoner, you never slack—because of thaaat!"
Pollu's voice brimmed with resentment. Raw emotion poured out like filth. Isaac had felt it through Alois; now Pollu reminded him again.
Rationality built on life's values. Common sense filled by education. Without them, Pollu's naked jealousy and desire shone through.
"Me too! If I'd been with Silberna, I could've done it! With Helmont support, I could've! I know! I know I couldn't! Right! I'm nothing! I hate wielding a sword! It's just jealousy? I know! Pathetic? I know!"
A hole in his tongue. The metaphor fit perfectly. He spewed words he should hold back. It wasn't his will. Brain thought, tongue spat—instantly reshaping his thoughts as he heard himself.
"Sorry, Mother! Sorry, Father! I'm a sinner! Aaaah! A SINNER!"
"Something..."
Sharen frowned at Pollu pounding his chest.
"Pitiful."
Isaac slowly raised his sword.
"A sinner?"
"Yes, I'm a sinner!"
Questions prompted answers. Isaac's reverse-engineered use of Subordination.
"Why? Why are you a sinner?"
"I'm ignorant! Stupid! Lazy! Unworthy! No! Don't answer!"
Question heard, answer formed. Realization came too late, after the words spilled.
"Your family colluded with transcendents who cast shamanism on you."
"Transcendents? Shamanism? What's that? I don't know! Aaaah! Don't answer!"
"It's called Subordination. You really don't know when?"
"Subordination? No! I don't—ah, that time?"
"That time?"
"That time! When I pretended to sleep! Mother came and did something! A stranger was there!"
Pollu clawed his hair, recalling it.
"It hurt! Hurt so much! Something carved into my chest! He saw I wasn't asleep! Knew I was awake!"
"But I endured! Held still! Because... it was what Mother wanted! Hoped she'd use me that way! Mother! Aaah! My mother! Nooo! Don't say it! It's a secret!"
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Pollu knelt, slamming his forehead into the ground despite himself. Words kept flowing.
"Because I'm a sinner! A sinner! I wanted to atone! Mother! Father! Aaaah! I'm Black Hand's sinner!"
Shing.
Isaac approached slowly. Pollu flinched, coughing.
"Come closer and I'll kill you! The Yeti! Yeti's coming—!"
Thud!
Snow scattered. The Yeti impaled by Silberna's spear collapsed to its knees.
"Aaaah! Yeti! No! Silberna's a beauty! Aaaah! Isaac! Am I... dying?!"
"......You should."
Isaac stood before him, gaze sharp. Pollu rose, blades clashing.
"Yes, kill me! Kill this sinner! Couldn't fulfill Mother and Father's wishes! Couldn't even do this! Aaaah! I'm a sinner! Must pay for my sins!"
In that instant—
"Ambush!"
Pollu's sword flashed. Black energy swirled desperately, empowering his final strike—but
"Guh, ack?!"
It cleaved air. Isaac had ducked, thrusting Peulseon into Pollu's chest again.
Peulseon pried into the wound alongside the bone.
"Gaaaaah!"
As Pollu tried fleeing, Isaac released the sword, gripped the bone with both hands—
And yanked.
Splurch!
Retreating pulled the heart-embedded bone free; strength drained from Pollu.
"Krrgh! Huergh!?"
Pollu gasped. Black auras scattered in the northern snow, purifying away.
Left alone, he looked up in shock.
"H-How?"
To the unspoken question of how he knew the final strike—
Releasing the bone, Isaac answered bitterly.
"You tried wielding Black Hand's sword to the end."
Somehow. He wanted recognition from Mother and Father. Praise as excellent. Love.
Not just Pollu's tongue was honest with desire.
"If you'd just swung relying on power, I couldn't have reacted."
But his wish to use Black Hand swordsmanship, however pathetic—it became the blade piercing his heart.
"Ha, haha... hahaha."
Pollu gazed at the white sky, tears falling. Aftershocks lingered; his heart's words spilled.
"Truth is, I hated swinging a sword."
"......"
"Scary. Terrifying. Having to muster courage scares me."
"......"
"Cooking was fun. First time the chef taught me to pack a lunch... heart raced."
"......"
"Shouldn't have! Had to swing swords! Couldn't enjoy cooking! Curse it! I curse myself!"
"Sorry, Mother, Father. I shouldn't have been born a Black Hand."
"All my fault. I committed the sin."
Isaac knelt on one knee before him.
"Acknowledging difference... took me ages too."
"I... am... a sinner......"
"Then I'm a sinner too."
"You... too?"
Pollu's voice broke, fading.
On the brink of death.
"I want... to live."
Tears flowed.
"Sorry."
"L-Live... want to."
"The only comfort I can give—"
"L-Live...... want to."
"I'll find who made you this way and make them pay."
His eyes widened.
Those who made him so—
The Black Hand family.
The old Pollu would have cried to protect his parents. Vowed to defend his house.
But Subordination's true heart—
"Thank you."
Answered.
With that smile, Pollu took in the northern white sky and departed.
He repeated to himself.
"You're kidding? You can't even do this? Plan to live as the family's shame?!"
The boy's sin: no interest in swords.
"Why so weak-willed? Planning to tarnish the family name? How will you receive them like this?!"
Another sin: failing to muster courage before threats.
"You, cooking? Praise? Have you seen such madness! Fetch the switch now!"
Liking cooking, wanting to show it off—another sin.
"Why a child like you...... Sigh, should have been born in some slum from my womb—."
His greatest sin, perhaps: being born into Black Hand, oblivious to his place.
So in truth—
The boy had committed no sin at all.