14. Keuk, Kill Her
14. Keuk, Kill Her
—Click.
Darkness arrived with the sound of the door closing.
Vivian, having returned to her lodgings, silently slipped out of the entryway and surveyed the interior of the house where she stayed.
The place was a chaotic mess, just as it had been before she left.
When she woke up and descended into the basement, she found her entire research output had vanished, so she'd ransacked every corner of the house looking for it.
The recovered results, of course, had already been moved to a safe location. Once preparations to move her belongings were complete, she would relocate there and resume her research.
The Mage Tower had assured her they would handle security, so she could trust that.
They were just as desperate as she was, and if they ever betrayed her, she would simply make them pay the price accordingly...
"Still, research today will be difficult."
After tearing through the Slum District and then visiting the Mage Tower to overturn it as well.
It had been an exhausting day for someone who spent most of her time alone in her room, so she judged that immediate rest was the proper course of action.
"Yes, just a little while."
Even if impatience whispered in her heart that she must resume her research at once, she considered this necessary for what lay ahead.
"Compared to how long I've waited so far, just a little while..."
Having succeeded in calming her mind, Vivian dragged her sluggish body back to her room.
Using mana-powered telekinesis, she tidied the lightly disheveled room, then flopped onto the bed, clutching a single doll in her arms.
She was meant to fall asleep, recover from her fatigue, and prepare for tomorrow, but...
—Growl.
"...I'm hungry."
Come to think of it, had she eaten anything all day?
Perhaps a meal would have been wise to replenish her energy, but instead of rising from the bed, Vivian buried her face in the doll and tried to forget the empty ache in her stomach.
If she rummaged for something to eat alone, it would just be tasteless, rock-hard biscuits anyway.
While researching, she ate even those without a second thought, but now, with her work at a standstill, her heart was filled to the brim with nostalgia welling up from old memories.
If there was anything she had to put in her mouth to soothe that feeling, it would be a warm dish made by someone's hands.
Yes, the very reason she'd decided to hire a housekeeper was to experience those things again and recapture the nostalgia of that day.
'Vivian. Stay here and be good.'
Her mother, the only family who had passed down the blood of witches to her.
A person she could only recall through memories of the past, if she were to stop moving forward.
'Mama, don't go! I— I don't want to stay here!'
'It's alright, Vivian. You're just about to fall into a rather long sleep.'
Whenever she tried to sleep, that final meeting with her mother always surfaced.
The burning cottage, the armed shadows closing in from outside...
And every moment of her mother, who blocked their path with a barrier at her back as she placed Vivian inside a box and stroked her cheek.
'When you wake from this sleep, surely no one will be able to harm you. If you wait, a world like that will surely come...'
'Th-then what about you, Mama?'
She hadn't wanted to say goodbye.
Whatever happened afterward, she wanted to share that fate with her mother.
'If I stay here, what... what happens to you then?'
Young as she was, she was not a fool.
Whatever their pursuers' purpose, wasn't it obvious what would become of the mother who cast a barrier alone outside while she remained within?
'Don't worry, Vivian.'
Yet her mother showed not a trace of fear or hesitation as she pressed a kiss to Vivian's forehead and whispered softly.
'I'm simply going to another world, that's all.'
'Another... world?'
'Yes, another world. As my daughter, you know this as well, don't you, Vivian? That the world we live in is separated by countless dimensional walls.'
'...'
'...I won't be vanishing. I'm merely departing somewhere else.'
Was she only saying this to put her at ease?
Or had she truly...
Had she truly possessed some evidence that the souls of those who leave this world head to a different one?
'So don't fret. As long as you survive, you'll be able to meet me again someday.'
'Really?'
'Yes. So survive. No matter what happens, firmly hold on...'
With those parting words, the box slammed shut with a thud.
Afterward, along with the tremendous power sensed from outside, her consciousness sank beneath the surface. When she awoke again, a long time had passed.
In that spot, a scene unfolded before her: the very humans who had persecuted her now brandished the research materials left by witches like her mother, begging for her interpretation and progress.
It was a little while after that when she learned that witches like her mother had been burned to death by their ancestors, their corpses vanishing without a trace.
But that truth did not fill her with blind rage.
Even if no living kin remained in this world, her mother had left her a tiny glimmer of hope in the moment of their parting.
"If the souls of the dead really do cross over to another world..."
Yes, that was her hope.
Because of that hope, she lent her strength to the bloodline of her enemies who needed her aid, and she pursued research that interfered with other dimensions.
Not stopping at merely summoning things one-sidedly, but heading there herself directly, or bringing far more into this world.
If she could do that, whether it was the afterlife or a mother's reincarnation drifting through another world, the day might come when she could reunite with her and make the memories of that day a reality...
"The day my research ends, I'll surely be able to see you again, won't I, Mama?"
Sensing that the day she'd achieve this with her own hands was not far off, Vivian hugged the doll in her arms and prepared to still her mind.
Thus she savored the memories of her mother and readied herself to forget everything else...
Yes, by all rights, she should have considered nothing else to matter except that one person and moved on.
"...Hyosung."
Why, then?
At a moment when she should have been revisiting those memories, why did an unexpected name rise in her head?
"Woo Hyosung."
A man she'd called upon temporarily, merely to relieve her nostalgia and irritation.
No matter how kind he was, no matter how silently he carried out everything she ordered, he was someone she was supposed to let drift away and pass by.
"Even when I think about it again, it's a strange name. Woo-hyo... heh, hehe."
And yet, at this moment when she thought of him, projecting his presence onto the doll in her arms, a faint smile slowly crept across her lips.
"Yes, truly, it's strange. That I still remember his name..."
Though they called her a being beyond human cognition, she was still a woman who had not forgotten the heart of a girl.
And so, in her immaturity, she could not help but remain unaware.
Alongside the mother she hoped to see again someday, another indelible mark had been engraved into her heart—one that could never be erased.
****
And several days later.
Having finished reviewing my plans and steadying my resolve, I withdrew all the money I'd stored at the bank and headed straight for Craftsmen Street.
I had no hesitation.
I'd had more than enough time to think, and delaying any longer would only weaken my will.
When a decision is made, you drive a stake into the path forward through action.
How crucial it was to get started was something my rough life experiences had hammered home plenty.
"You, sir. Are you an otherworlder?"
Just as I entered Craftsmen Street for that very reason, an old man approached me with open curiosity.
I decided to respond to his approach with goodwill immediately.
I couldn't just waltz into any random workshop, so someone showing interest in me was a good opportunity.
"You recognized me right away."
"Well, black-haired foreigners are usually folks from another world."
The old man surveyed me up and down through half-lidded eyes. The furrow in his brow afterward was surely because he found me unreliable.
"But judging by your shabby appearance, you don't seem to be a Hero... Don't tell me you've come here to buy equipment?"
"Yes, I plan to become an adventurer soon."
"...Aspiring to be an adventurer without being a Hero? You're reaching for something far too reckless."
A perfectly valid concern.
But I simply answered with a nonchalant smile.
"Even if it's reckless, I have to."
Becoming an adventurer once I had money was one of my goals.
And that desire had only grown stronger after the incident that day.
***
Of course, I'm not an idiot. It's not like I felt nothing after what happened that day.
I felt nothing but bewilderment at the incomprehensible phenomenon, and it was only natural to feel terror and helplessness knowing such beings existed somewhere in this world.
Yet the reason I could stand back up and set my sights on becoming an adventurer was because I recalled a certain encounter from when I'd worked as a porter on the Holy Knight Order's request.
That is to say... the newly appointed commander leading the Holy Knight Order happened to be an aristocrat with an absurdly rigid character. After the unit she'd dragged into her reckless operation was annihilated, the remnants were surrounded by the Undead Legion.
"...Damn it. So this is as far as we go."
The knight commander, unable to accept it at first and thrashing in desperation, finally acknowledged reality and sank into despondency.
Realizing that a sense of justice to vanquish evil alone could accomplish nothing, she collapsed before the Black Knight who'd appeared before her and muttered quietly.
Probably a statement born from her last shred of pride that she would not yield to evil.
"Heh, kill me."
"Understood."
—Crunch!
The Black Knight's greatsword swung down just like that, butchering the Holy Knight Order's commander.
Even as the gore splattered and blood sprayed alongside the mangled flesh, making those of us watching recoil in horror, the knight showed not a shred of pity or hesitation.
To the undead, the sanctity of life had less value than a pebble on the roadside, after all.
"Someone so devoid of lingering attachments that they speak of their own death so flippantly is not worth raising up."
As if to teach that lesson, the Black Knight kicked aside the mangled corpse like a pebble, then turned toward the rest of us survivors and issued orders to the ghouls.
"Take the rest. There may be promising talent among them—someone capable of walking alongside us."
The Death Knight.
One of the four knights who guarded the Corpse Lord commanding the legions of the dead, he had aimed to turn the remnants, myself included, into undead and recruit them as comrades.
In order to discover those who, like himself, could awaken as beings that retained their ego even in undeath.