Blood Sea, Blood Sea
The Blood Sea, the Blood Sea. Time stretched out, flowing agonizingly slow in that instant.
The feel of the sword in my hand. The shock traveling up my wrist. The warm spray of blood hitting my face.
"...Hm."
Perhaps because the conditions were so intense. I remember every moment of the execution itself.
Before and after, exhaustion blurs most of it... but certain special memories stick.
Like when I tore the limbs from the Mad Sword Saint of the Four Greats on the battlefield and severed his neck.
Hm. Brings back memories.
When I found him, he was no longer human. His eyes rolled back, his corrupted demon sword slashing blindly at the air, no longer recognizing its master.
Yet every swing carried enough power to level a city.
Three days was the mercy I granted him while he still clung to his sanity. No mercy for the one already carving through allies and enemies alike.
The sound of his bones cracking when I severed his arms still echoes in my ears.
The twitch of his fingers clutching the dirt, trying to rise as I cut his legs.
It was my first time killing a person, so I didn't know how much force a neck took. Five strikes left half the neck intact; I needed three more.
Even a mad Sword Saint couldn't endure that—he begged me to cut clean in one blow. So I tore the rest out with my hands...
Thud!
"Hm."
The carriage's abrupt halt shattered my reverie with a jolt.
To think they'd stop this far out... Should've taken the Imperial Palace carriage after all.
"Miss! You're on your own from here! They say just looking at that river curses you..."
The coachman shouted in a trembling voice.
For ordinary folk, it was a reasonable point to bail.
I slowly opened the carriage door. The outside air stabbed straight into my lungs.
Iron scent. It clung to me now like perfume—enough that I'd take offense if someone hated it.
...Not that I'd really be hurt.
"This is fine. Thank you."
I stepped down and handed over a pouch heavy with coin.
Clink clink! The coins clashed with a dull ring.
Everyone loves that sound, but I'd heard it enough to grow numb.
High pay from endless overtime, no days off. Among the Five Pillars, I'm probably the richest.
Pointless, though—no place to spend it.
The coachman took the pouch but kept glancing toward the river.
"Miss, really... you're going alone from here?"
I nodded.
"Any closer, and you'd be uncomfortable."
I gazed at the river for a moment. Dark crimson surface. Ripples stirred by the wind.
Yes. A wind was blowing.
Heavy and humid from the river, it stung the nose with mingled iron and rot.
Blood and water mixed too long smell just like this, I noted calmly.
The first time, it made me gag. Now? Familiar.
Too familiar.
Perks of the Executioner's job—I'm better for it, but it feels like I'm drifting further from people.
Step. Step...
"Not quite a swamp, but unpleasant."
The riverbank soil floated congealed blood outside, moisture within. Each step sank it slightly.
Not hard to walk, but at this pace, how to find the target—
"Haha! The blood's vibrating today too!"
"...?"
Huh. Found him already?
Cleaving the dark crimson surface, a hull advanced. Triangular sail. Low, elongated keel. Triangular Whale emblazoned on the side.
The ship didn't cut straight against the current—it slipped diagonally, riding the flow.
The man atop it...
"Found you."
Sepir de Hwan. So flashy, easy to spot.
"...Hm."
The river's wide, its crimson surface warping vision. A lone figure on the bank wouldn't stand out from the deck.
...Tch.
I hadn't hidden my presence, but no need to flaunt it either.
For today, end it here. Tomorrow. Approach formally...
"Gyaah! All hands! Turn the ship! A beautiful lady's in distress!"
"..."
What?
I slowly looked up. The Triangular Whale was veering oddly on the river.
"Lady! Hold on!!"
How is he this single-celled...
I nearly pinched my brow on instinct, barely stopping my hand.
Sepir leaned over the deck railing, hair whipping in the wind.
Grinning. A boyish smile, utterly devoid of schemes.
"Lady! Just a bit longer! We'll be there soon!"
...Lady this, lady that.
"No need to wait!"
My voice scattered in the river wind.
Sepir cupped his ear and shouted back.
"What was that? A love confession? Take your time!"
Wrong. No point talking.
Sensing my resignation, the ship soon halted.
"Hoo!"
Sepir vaulted the railing lightly and leaped down.
Splash! Mud splattered on landing.
He placed a hand over his heart like doffing a hat, bowing slightly.
"Lady."
"..."
"Standing alone on this perilous riverbank—reckless, yet beautiful."
"Not really..."
"Board my ship! The river's vast as the sea—dangerous alone."
Sepir stepped back, offering his hand.
"The Triangular Whale welcomes rum and ladies."
"..."
I narrowed my eyes at being lumped with rum, but let it slide.
Better to board. Deeper into his domain aids intel gathering over bank chit-chat.
Ignoring his hand, I leaped to the upper deck.
Clack.
My boots thudded firm on the wooden planks.
"I'll board, Captain."
"Er... Call me Sepir..."
"Thanks, Captain."
"...Tch. Fine, Lady."
He shrugged theatrically.
Hahaha! Low chuckles rippled among the crew. Rare sight, captain rebuffed.
The ship was already mid-river. Crimson waves lapped low against the hull.
Heavier current than expected. Wood feels precarious.
I approached the railing, peering down. Shadows stirred lazily below the surface.
"No fear?"
Sepir sidled up, asking.
Wind whipped ceaselessly over the deck—too damp for river breeze, filthier than fish.
I kept eyes on the water, answering curtly.
"None."
"Ahaha! Quick one!"
His laugh was light. But light laughs don't mean light men.
"Truth."
I stated flatly; Sepir nodded, smirking.
"Fearless folk fall into two types."
He held up two fingers.
"Fools."
First finger.
"Or they've killed plenty."
Second.
"Which are you?"
He stared, eyes now laced with faint calculation—unlike his prior jesting.
"Latter, likely."
"Basis?"
I pressed; he replied swift.
"Your landing. First time on deck."
His gaze swept from my toes—knees, waist, shoulders—back to face.
Assessing, not ogling.
"Seems beauty alone, but you're a corpse warehouse deeper than this river."
Whoooosh...
Wind surged. Crimson surface churned. Deck air subtly tensed.
A few crew widened eyes. They felt it—not mere jest extension.
"That how I seem?"
I asked quietly.
Sepir shrugged.
"Just calling what I see."
He propped on the rail, glancing river, then me.
"River had no choice."
I said flatly.
"Just dumped blood clots."
Sepir's eyes narrowed briefly.
"But you chose."
"Not choice. Orders."
"Hoo?"
"I'm here on imperial command."
Drop.
Wind seemed to still. River still rippled red, sails breathed in-out.
But deck air froze instant.
"...!"
Several crew snapped heads up. Hands froze on ropes, feet halted mid-inspection.
I continued, gaze steady.
"Executioner of the Derpian Empire."
Low voice.
"Philia van Markena."
No tremor.
"In three days."
Declaration settling firm over the river.
"By imperial decree, I will execute 'Sepir de Hwan'."
Crimson waves slapped the hull. Something massive stirred below, rocking the ship once, twice.
No one laughed. Not the rum-talkers, nor the sail-menders.
All but Sepir fell silent.
"Crew."
He said shortly.
"Heard?"
No reply.
"This lady comes to kill me in three days."
He shrugged, grinning.
"So sail harder than usual today."
A few forced laughs—masking fear.
"And now? Do nothing?"
"Yes. Run, fight—anything but flee, for three days."
"No running."
"Yes."
"Fight?"
"Unless you draw first."
He raked the air with a hand wave.
"Intriguing."
More relaxed than expected.
One crew muttered, unable to hold.
"Captain, this woman right no—"
"Said it."
Sepir's voice sank low.
"My ship."
Crew shut up.
Sepir eyed me again.
"So what'll you do three days?"
"Observe."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"Sleep, eat, ride my ship, mingle with my crew?"
"Yes."
He snickered.
"Must be awkward."
"Used to it."
"Well, just don't run for three days?"
"Yes. Try, and I'll behead you instantly."
"Sink the ship?"
"No reason not to. And..."
Be it your muscled belly or this crewed vessel...
"I can cleave it in half in one."
To me, less than toys.