Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Countless Requests from Sinful Hands
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The climate of the Northern Region was mercilessly harsh to everyone.
From the ash-gray sky, hailstones the size of a child's head pelted down relentlessly.
Blades of icy wind sharp enough to cleave frozen conifers tore across the entire snowfield.
The people of the Meursault domain had long since barred their doors and avoided going outside.
Icicles formed mere inches from roaring fireplaces, so no one dared venture out.
Even hunters who could trek dozens of kilometers across frozen lakes stayed put during this season.
Winter.
It wasn't just a word for a cold season.
Winter taught the meaning and meaninglessness of life all at once, imprinting anew how frail humans were before the power of nature.
The endless long nights and short days, filled between by blizzards, tested every single moment of existence.
......But.
Whoosh!
There existed a being that turned the trial upon itself.
Federback.
He sprinted across the snowfield bare-chested.
Behind him lumbered a massive bear in pursuit.
[GRRAAAAAHH!]
The Frost Black Bear.
A ferocious beast that even seasoned hunters couldn't take down without forming parties of over ten.
This one was especially enraged, its winter hibernation rudely interrupted.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud!
The black bear charged at tremendous speed, lunging to snap at Federback.
But Federback's movements were even faster.
Swoosh―
A single gust cut against the blizzard.
The black bear confirmed Federback's hand was empty.
So it unhesitatingly gaped its maw wide.
But.
Crack!
Fountains of blood erupted from both sides of the black bear's gaping jaws.
[Kyahak!?]
It never realized what killed it, even as its head split in two.
"Hmm. Impressive."
Federback raised his hand.
About 47 inches from his seemingly empty palm, fresh crimson blood stained the air.
At a glance, the blood appeared to float in midair.
In truth, obscured by the blizzard, Federback gripped a blade as white as snow.
The famed sword, White Phosphorus.
Its purity of white made it vanish instantly when laid on snowfields.
Swinging it amid the blizzard made it look like flailing with bare hands.
The Frost Black Bear had died without seeing the long blade extend from Federback's hand.
"Hoo―"
Federback exhaled deeply.
Heading out for midwinter training and provoking a massive bear on the verge of hibernation had gone well enough.
But the bear was larger and stronger than expected, hard to fell at the 2nd Circle level.
"......Gotta hit 3rd Circle soon to get anywhere. So frustrating."
Anyone else hearing would be dumbfounded speechless.
Even the geniuses of swordsmanship noble houses barely scraped 2nd Circle in their early to mid-twenties.
3rd Circle was a threshold most didn't reach until past thirty.
Yet Federback, at just fifteen—even less time since regressing—teetered on the edge of 2nd Circle.
A achievement over a decade ahead of his previous life, but Federback remained dissatisfied.
Kiiiiing―
Icy winds cooled his fevered body.
The sweat pouring moments ago had turned to ice shards.
"Time to move."
Federback hoisted the massive black bear.
And began trudging toward the distant Meursault fortress.
The gate erupted in chaos.
Federback had dragged back a house-sized black bear bare-handed, after all.
It took about thirty guards straining together just to haul the Frost Black Bear's corpse.
"Divide the innards among yourselves. Haul the rest to the slaughterhouse. I'll butcher it personally."
"Does the Young Master know butchery too?"
"Expert."
The guards, guard captain included, gaped at Federback's words.
Monster butchery was notoriously tricky; few butchers could handle it.
How had this scrawny young noble learned it?
But Federback's next words shifted their attention elsewhere.
"Feed the gallbladders and hearts to the ailing soldiers."
"Whoa!? For real!?"
The guard captain giggled like a schoolgirl at Federback's generosity.
"Whew, I've been low on energy lately—things with the wife haven't been great......"
"Captain! With all that muscle, what are you saying?!"
"I'm trying for number three—any support?"
"Just one sip of bile juice, please! The wife's glaring me to death!"
"You punk! Where do the rookies think they are? Veterans are lining up—get lost!"
The guards clamored behind.
Federback brushed off the frozen sweat from his torso and headed straight across the avenue to the mansion.
Shut windows flew open as village girls cheered toward him.
One even scattered rare winter flower petals, somehow procured.
Federback returned to the mansion at a brisk pace.
Step―step―step―step―
Step―step―step―step―
Heading straight for the training cave, someone fell in beside Federback.
"Wash up if you've been out."
Rorschach trotted to match his pace.
Federback cut to the chase.
"Recruited the laborers for the caravan?"
"That's the biggest issue."
Rorschach clutched a bundle of documents, practically running after him.
"Weather's insane—no one's signing up."
"We need lots of porters."
"Zero applicants. Can't force them, right?"
"There's a place we can conscript from."
"In this weather? Impossible. Even the mercenary guild refuses deployments—where?"
"A place with 24/7 manpower."
"Where the hell...... Ah."
Rorschach's mouth fell open in realization.
Federback said flatly, expression unchanged.
"Drag out the Abyss prisoners."
"Poor souls."
"Most of those poor souls got pardoned. Your inauguration amnesty."
"Hm. Fair point."
Rorschach nodded at Federback's words.
They had already passed the narrow alleys into the training cave's entrance.
Rorschach cleared her throat at the echoing voices from within.
"Ahem— The remaining Abyss prisoners are mostly new ones. Heavy criminals from the recent war on crime. Plenty of informants mixed in."
"More laborers the better. Bring them all."
"......You sure? Hardened criminals."
Caravans transported valuables and cash.
Was it wise to include utterly untrustworthy felons?
In normal circumstances, she'd dismiss it outright...... But Rorschach eyed Federback.
Something told her he'd say otherwise.
And her hunch was spot on.
"Even better."
Federback continued dryly.
"The worse they are, the more disposable."
"Why?"
"Why what."
Federback snapped slightly, as if the question was obvious.
"Kill 'em if they step even slightly out of line."
"......Do you even have a heart, Federback?"
"Insulting question, Rorschach. I'm more human than anyone."
"Then how do you talk so casually about killing? Empathetic people don't act like that."
"Curious why?"
Federback halted abruptly.
He turned to face Rorschach.
His eyes gleamed red through disheveled white hair.
Though unwashed for days, his body carried a pleasant scent.
The smell of icy winds and bitter cold.
The fragrance of snowfields and underlying barren earth.
The aroma of life, death, and somewhere in between.
As Rorschach stared into his eyes, the answer came.
"The reason I can kill criminals so easily."
"......"
"Is because I empathize far more with victims than perpetrators."
"......!"
Federback stepped toward Rorschach.
His finger jabbed near her throat.
"People like you or your parents."
"......"
"Once you pour all your empathy into them with full force, none remains for the perpetrators."
"......"
"I have people to protect. People I want to help live well."
"......"
"For them, I'll bear any label. Cold-blooded killer, murderer, swindler, coward, thug—whatever."
"......"
Rorschach stared blankly for a long while after Federback's words.
Leaving her, he turned and walked alone into the training cave.
"Gather the Abyss prisoners. Prioritize the worst ones."
At his final order, Rorschach could only nod.
The depths of the Abyss.
New prisoners clustered there, raising a clamor.
Cries, groans, curses, laments, and mad cackles.
"Let me out!"
"Curse Meursault!"
"I'm innocent! Truly!"
"A man like me doesn't belong here!"
Guards banged batons on bars, but the uproar didn't subside.
Then.
Creeeak......
A heavy iron gate swung open, revealing a woman.
Boyishly short green-gold hair, but her face revealed stunning beauty.
Languid eyes and pale skin defined her—Rorschach.
"Attention, criminals."
No prisoner here didn't know Rorschach.
Most had been jailed by her hand.
Then.
"Ptooey!"
A prisoner spat at her.
The spittle flew far, splatting on her foot.
He bellowed at Rorschach.
"You filthy bitch! Seducing the Meursault young master with that slutty body, huh!? I know all about you two sluts screwing in the bedroom every night! Why not hop on me instead? I'll man up better than that scrawny brat! Huh!? What do you say! A young girl like you already built like that—who could stand it! Huh?!"
Hardly words for a fourteen-year-old girl, but none here minded.
They laughed or clapped, egging him on.
......However.
"Ah. Execute that one on the spot, please?"
Rorschach casually asked the nearby guard.
Like ordering food to carry out herself.
But the result was brutal.
"Huh?"
The prisoner who'd spewed filth paled as guards marched toward him.
And.
Splat!
A baton swung down from above, shattering his skull in one blow.
Plop plop plop―
Brains and bone fragments sprayed.
Rorschach tilted her head watching.
"The ones who laughed and clapped earlier. So, that bearded guy in Block B row 4, the fat one next to him. And across in Block C row 6, the dragon-tattooed man and the tall skinny one beside him. You all chimed in, right? Execute them too, please."
Guards strode over without hesitation, batons swinging.
...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat! ...Splat!
The prisoners died with skulls crushed, no chance to beg.
"......"
"......"
"......"
Silence fell over the Abyss, as if nothing lived.
Rorschach cleared her throat.
"Sorry. I empathize with victims over perpetrators first, so I was a bit delayed."
She scanned the now-silent prisoners and continued.
"Most of you here raped children, murdered parents, lusted after others' wives, killed for hire, defrauded countless people, or committed irredeemable crimes—scum like that, right?"
No reply.
Rorschach took it as agreement.
"I'll give such people a chance."
"......!"
Prisoners' eyes widened.
Rorschach smiled brightly.
"A high Meursault figure plans a long journey. Escort him, carry odds and ends—porter work, basically."
Prisoners pressed faces to bars, ears perked.
Some gulped dryly.
Rorschach spoke.
"Die and done, survive and pardoned. Anyone in?"
Myriad hands shot out from the bars.
"Me!"
"Pick me! Me!"
"I fight great! Body's tough!"
"This lass knows every Northern road! Please, me!"
Countless requests from sinful hands.