The Thieves of the Mine (3)
Neromeltia waited briefly for the humans' reaction. The garment she currently wore, Night Illusion, possessed the ability of complete restoration. As long as the wearer's mana did not run dry, it was a magical attire that displayed an infinite, ultra-high-speed restoration ability no matter how it was damaged or broken. It was a treasure crafted with painstaking care by Neromeltia's old friend, Cardistella moon Night, for her sake. She had no desire to watch that precious item continue to be ruined by such trivial attacks. That was why Neromeltia had neutralized all of the humans' firearms. She had literally disabled every mana circuit engraved upon their guns. She had no interest in such bothersome, insignificant assaults. Come at her with genuine intent. That was what Neromeltia had been thinking.
Yet the humans, having lost their only weapons, appeared to have lost all will to fight.
"No one steps forward. Is this your answer?"
Neromeltia found the trembling humans before her even more detestable. If they had charged forward with burning resolve even after losing their weapons, she might have granted them the dignity of warriors, however loathsome their enmity. If they had fixed bayonets to their guns and rushed her with courage, or charged with daggers in hand, pouring every ounce of strength into the attack, or even clenched their bare fists and roared as they advanced with pitiful determination—any of those would have sufficed. But these soldiers possessed neither bayonets nor daggers to begin with. They had placed their faith solely in a single firearm each, forgoing all other armaments. Nor did they possess even the desperate will to swing their fists, however futile, against the enemy. Having grown accustomed to trampling others through the power of magic engineering alone, these cruel conquerors now cowered without moving, begging for their opponent's mercy like beaten dogs. Not a single fragment of pride or honor could be found in their craven forms.
"With only this level of resolve, you slaughtered and violated others? Then I am disappointed, humans."
"P-please… please have mercy…!! W-we'll give you anything!!"
One of the centurions who had been commanding the human soldiers raised his voice in a desperate attempt to negotiate. He began pleading frantically, his lips struggling to form words, trying to drag the opponent to the negotiating table by any means necessary. His unfocused, wildly darting eyes were filled with nothing but the single purpose of survival.
"What do you desire! W-we have two chests of gold! A pouch of precious gems! How about wondrous magical tools! If you let me return safely, I will repay you with everything I possess!!"
"I-I can offer you fine slaves!! Sturdy men hardened by construction work! Beautiful men so alluring that even other men would burn with desire! We have well-trained men who obey any command without question! I can provide slaves to match any preference!! No—I'll give you all of them!! We only lack female slaves; we have plenty of male ones!! Their manhoods are large, as befits other-race slaves, so I'm certain you'll be satisfied at night!!!"
Aside from the one centurion who was clearly losing his mind, two others began competing with one another. One tried to tempt her with all manner of treasures, while another belatedly offered every kind of male slave imaginable. Each word they spoke made Neromeltia feel nauseated with revulsion. Everything they offered as bargaining chips was treasure soaked in the blood of victims and the trampled human rights of those torn apart. It was astonishing how uniformly vile they could be. It was as though their entire race had been created for the sake of every conceivable evil deed. No matter how much she despised humans, Neromeltia had always believed that surely some good humans existed among them. Yet these humans were uniformly malicious, cruel, and foul enough to turn one's stomach. She was beginning to wonder whether even a single decent human truly existed. Every human she had encountered thus far had been nothing but garbage.
"You are repulsive from beginning to end. Did you truly believe I would desire such things?"
"H-hiik…!! F-forgive us…!!"
"Clench those perfectly functional fists and come at me. If that proves difficult, use your legs. If even that is impossible, bare your teeth. Even if you bleed and cannot rise, crawl forward. Fight with everything you have!"
They were all uniformly, dizzyingly worthless. When she had first encountered them, they had naturally assumed they would make her their sex slave. Without the slightest hesitation, they had appraised her appearance and spouted vulgar obscenities, their eyes gleaming with lust as they openly ogled her from head to toe, smacking their lips in anticipation. Their willingness to violate others' rights, strip away their freedom, and claim the power of life and death over them was clear proof of what cruel conquerors they were. These were the ones who had felt no pangs of conscience whatsoever and instead grew excited at the prospect of taking a beautiful woman at will, babbling their filthy innuendos. Yet the moment they realized their opponent was stronger, they tucked their tails between their legs and groveled, begging for their lives. They pleaded for mercy while scheming petty ways to preserve their own worthless hides. Standing before the very person they had wanted to enslave, they casually offered up the spoils they had plundered from others' lands and the human rights they had harvested by stripping away freedoms, as though it were nothing. They were a fundamentally repulsive race. The humans who had invaded Hemonigent countless times a thousand years ago had been no different. Even now, a thousand years later, the two groups of humans she had encountered since her resurrection showed no change from those of the past. She was beginning to suspect that humans were truly parasites upon Terraris, rotten to the core from the very beginning.
As her thoughts reached that point, one human suddenly flashed through Neromeltia's mind.
'I fought for the peace and well-being of the world in the name of the God King.'
The human hero who had driven Neromeltia to her death. She had fought on the side of these wicked humans and ultimately thrust the holy sword into Neromeltia's heart. There had been no fairness or honor in that process. While Neromeltia had poured all her strength into protecting evacuating civilians and had both hands bound, the woman had swung her sword with everything she had, showing not a shred of consideration, as though she could not afford to miss such a perfect opportunity. Yet she had possessed her own sense of justice.
'Look outside. Is this peace for my people, drenched in blood and slaughtered?'
'I received a divine oracle. With this battle, we humans will lead all living beings to peace under the will of the gods. The blood spilled today was an unavoidable sacrifice.'
'Will the people of Hemonigent also obtain peace?'
'I promise. No one will shed blood or suffer any longer. The God King Odvolg has told me so.'
Even though she had fought on the wrong side, there had been kindness in her eyes. Even though she had accepted a flawed logic, conviction had resided in her sword. Even though she had held a mistaken belief, the desire for peace had dwelled in her heart. Berkadia belle Gertrude, the hero of the God King. The fact that Neromeltia still remembered her appearance and name after a thousand years was because she had been the only human to show a virtuous side. When she thought about it coldly, it was absurd to imagine that an entire race could be uniformly vile, as though they had all made a pact. Surely there were innocent, good people among them as well. The only humans Neromeltia had been able to observe were those who had invaded Hemonigent, and even if they had all possessed vile hearts, Berkadia belle Gertrude, the hero of the God King Odvolg, had been the sole existence to show Neromeltia another side of humanity. That was why, at the moment she crossed the threshold of death, she had left behind the words that she would watch to see whether the woman kept her promise. The moment Neromeltia learned that the God King Odvolg and the humans the woman had believed in so fervently had not actually been fighting for justice. The moment her solid faith and trust were thoroughly shattered. She had hoped that the woman would choose another path toward peace rather than corruption. It had been her way of telling the Demon Lord she had slain with her own hands that, if she wished not to feel ashamed, she must keep her wits about her no matter what outcome she faced and uphold her own justice to the very end.
Of course, that wish and her anger toward humans were separate matters.
"No, that won't do. No matter how insignificant these vermin may be, one must not let one's mind wander when facing an enemy…"
Neromeltia erased the recollection that had briefly consumed her and once again faced the reality before her. The centurions, unaware that Neromeltia had been lost in thought and had not been listening to their words, continued competing to offer conditions for negotiation. The silence she had shown had led them to the grand misconception that she was seriously considering their proposals.
"We also have beautiful elf slaves! Though they look frail, as members of the fairy race who live for thousands of years, they are remarkably sturdy! Moreover, their beauty is renowned as the jewels of the forest, so I'm certain you'll be satisfied!!"
"Hah! Out of the way!! As if she would want such filthy, foul-smelling slaves!! I-I can also offer troll hides and blood! Fresh specimens from trolls hunted just two months ago!!"
Neromeltia finally reacted to their desperate cries. With a faint smile, she revealed interest in her eyes. Her soft, smooth lips and beautiful crimson eyes formed a gentle smile. To the centurions, Neromeltia's bewitching smile seemed as benevolent as that of the earth goddess Asta. They became convinced that a path to survival had finally opened.
"Oh? Elves, you say?"
"Y-you're interested in elves! Though elves appear slender, they are a fairy race that lives for thousands of years and are extremely durable! Furthermore, their beauty is so exceptional that it is called the jewel of the forest, so I'm certain you'll be satisfied!!"
"I-I can also provide slaves! With the treasures I possess, I can contact slave merchants in the vicinity and divert the first shipment of slaves bound for Esteronan! What about Anima! How about Anima!!"
"Oh? Slave merchants?"
"T-that's right!! You can meet all manner of Anima—cats, birds, leopards, rats, dogs, foxes! The Beasteress Woods are always like a gold mine!"
Neromeltia smiled even more deeply. The centurions' faces lit up, believing they had succeeded, and their voices grew more forceful. Convinced they had correctly identified what she desired, they displayed even greater enthusiasm in order to seal their own survival. In contrast, the ordinary soldiers' complexions turned ashen. They were the ones who consumed only the supplies regularly delivered from Esteronan and lived off their wages. They were the so-called have-nots, denied even the right to sit at the negotiating table. Believing their lives would not be spared, they could only hope for the slim chance that Neromeltia might change her mind out of good humor and spare them.
"First, you two—come this way."
Neromeltia waved her finger through the air, and at that moment, the two centurions' bodies floated upward and began slowly drifting toward her side. Once they had settled beside her, the centurions' faces overflowed with joy that transcended mere relief, convinced their lives had been guaranteed. Neromeltia, however, looked down at the remaining human soldiers with eyes full of open contempt and disgust.
"From this moment on, drop all your equipment and remove every piece of clothing you are wearing."