Chapter 159
Chapter 159
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 158
Chapter Title: The Women
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That evening,
the discussion proceeded quite smoothly.
Both families decided to support Deius, and they agreed to help root out the black mages of Dante hiding within the kingdom.
If it had simply been about cooperating with Deius, both sides might have shown some reluctance, but the moment they revealed the plan to exterminate the black mages, any hesitation vanished.
It wasn't just their enmity toward black mages; subjugating them would also earn solid support from the kingdom's citizens.
The royal family would select the Zeronia and Bright families to deal with the black mages committing atrocities.
Zeronia for swords, Bright for magic—a perfect combination.
In the end, the blackmail material Deia had brought lay useless in a corner, which left her a bit disappointed.
‘Well, of course, the best situation is one where you don’t have to draw your sword at all.’
She knew persuasion was ideal if it worked, but she still felt a pang of regret over the effort she’d put into gathering it.
While Deius Verdi, Elan of the Bright family, and Giltea of the Zeronia family held glasses of wine in the banquet hall, debating the future,
Deia slipped out quietly and wandered the corridors. There were definitely many differences from their mansion in Northsweden.
To block Northsweden’s cold, the windows were thick, gaps against the wind were obsessively sealed, and carpets made of animal hides trapped the heat.
But here, in the kingdom’s hottest southern region, everything was the opposite.
The windows were thin, gaps deliberately left for heat to escape, and the carpets and decorations were designed for ventilation to avoid moisture and heat buildup.
“Miss Deia.”
At the voice calling from behind, Deia glanced back.
It was Edwon Bright, the second son of the Bright family, whom she’d met in the garden that morning.
She’d ignored his advances, but he’d sought her out here outside the banquet hall.
“What.”
Even her curt reply only made Edwon lift the corner of his mouth, as if finding it cute.
Deia’s lips, in contrast, pulled down openly in displeasure.
“If you’ve had too much to drink, I can escort you to your room.”
“……”
How ridiculous.
Deia had been sensitive to human desires since childhood—especially male lust.
Her insane brother, who claimed to be her sibling, had constantly sexually harassed her and even tried to force relations.
She’d felt his greedy gaze on her body, not the food, too often at meals.
‘This fucking…’
She barely held back the curse rising to her lips. Edwon’s eyes brimmed with greed and desire.
Their first meeting had been blunt to seize the initiative, but now that their families were allies, there was no need to create discord.
Still, Deia desperately wanted to pull out the hidden mana rifle and put a few holes in his head.
At that moment.
“I’m sorry, Brother.”
Another voice from behind drew both their gazes.
There stood Erika Bright, who hadn’t attended the banquet, in a polite posture.
“I already made plans with my sister-in-law first. There’s so much I want to know before married life.”
“You skipped the banquet and now you’re brazenly… Ahem.”
Edwon started to scold her harshly but checked Deia beside him. He’d heard Deius warn him that morning in the garden not to treat Erika lightly, so he was even more cautious.
“Let’s go, Miss Deia.”
“……Yes.”
There were no prior plans, but Deia went along with it. She didn’t want to spend another moment with that man anyway.
Entering Erika’s room, Deia closed the door and leaned against it, not wanting to go further in.
“Isn’t it a bit early to talk about married life?”
Even Deia’s sarcasm didn’t faze Erika, who replied calmly.
“Yes, I know.”
She took it so lightly.
That only irritated Deia more.
“You don’t seem as attached as I thought.”
Deia jabbed again, and Erika paused what she was preparing, staring straight at her.
The intensity made Deia flinch involuntarily.
“……W-Why.”
“I don’t know what my sister-in-law thinks, but my feelings for Deius are genuine.”
“Don’t call me sister-in-law.”
Deia bristled at the deliberate title change, but Erika continued.
“That’s why I want him to be happy. Doesn’t sister-in-law find Deius acting strangely lately?”
“He’s always been weird.”
Deia shrugged, trying to deflect, but Erika’s gaze held firm.
With a deep sigh, Deia gave the answer.
“It’s because of Pindenai, right.”
From the unseen changes to what he wouldn’t voice.
It had to be Pindenai’s disappearance, and she’d clearly had a big impact on him.
“Yes. He pretends it doesn’t bother him, but I can’t bear to watch him suffer any longer.”
“……She’s his fiancée.”
Deia caught the implication in Erika’s words. She’d just professed her love openly, yet now she sounded supportive of another woman in his heart.
“Are you giving up?”
“No. Or rather, I probably couldn’t.”
Erika smiled bitterly but answered flatly.
“But it’s fine. There are all kinds of love, after all.”
Others wouldn’t call it love.
They’d call it giving up.
Yet strangely, Deia found herself empathizing with her emotions.
The idea of giving up out of love resonated deeply.
‘Because she’s family…’
Deia clenched her fist and asked.
“Is there something I can help with?”
“Hm?”
Erika was startled by the sudden offer but pondered briefly before asking tentatively.
“I think I need help from our family without Deius knowing. I tried alone, but I lack the power.”
“Ah?”
Deia smirked and nodded knowingly.
“That’s my specialty.”
She felt better knowing she could use the Bright family’s dirt, gathering dust unused.
* * *
“Hoo.”
Cold breath escaped, maintaining a subtle tension.
Before she knew it, Pindenai had a cigarette from her pocket in her mouth, regretting it but pulling out her lighter anyway.
Flick.
Hiss.
Deius hated it, but Pindenai loved the lighter’s flick sound.
When she told him, he’d dismissed it, saying she liked it because it meant she’d smoke—not the sound itself.
‘What did he say again.’
Something like how dogs salivate at a bell before feeding, mistaking it for food.
She’d flipped him off both hands back then, pissed, but now it was just a memory.
“Hoo.”
She exhaled long, shoving the lighter into her coat pocket.
She now wore her old Scrap Merchants leader outfit, not the revealing maid uniform.
She’d worn this far longer, yet it felt oddly awkward.
Well, she’d get used to it soon enough.
“Five left.”
Counting habitually, Pindenai noticed hesitation in her fingertips.
She’d smoked endlessly since arriving, and the number had dwindled.
“Should quit.”
Saying so, she drew deeply, feeling it not just through nose and mouth, but skin.
Closing her eyes softly brought back when he’d given her these cigarettes.
Right after barely escaping death upon returning from the Clock Republic.
His sudden embrace had been surprisingly warm.
“Fuck.”
Enough, Pindenai.
She scolded herself, about to toss the half-smoked cigarette, but sucked it to the end, savoring.
Watching it burn felt like her memories with him fading.
Her destination appeared.
Water Bottle Orphanage.
She recalled her friend’s bright smile explaining the name came from her Aquarius sign.
The young director here shared a bond with Pindenai, so she’d left the Scrap Merchants’ kids here before leaving for Griffin.
“……”
She remembered it prettily decorated last time, but now, under gray clouds maybe, the whole place felt ashen.
The sharp scent of fresh blood stung her sensitive nose.
Gripping her axe tighter, Pindenai charged in.
Bam!
Kicking the door open, ragged coat flapping. Children’s drawings at the entrance and hall were bloodstained.
At the corridor’s end lay a small child’s corpse she recognized.
“What?”
A man peeked out. Not Salvation Corps, but his uniform marked him Clock Republic military.
Thwack!
He probably never thought those words his last.
Pindenai’s axe split his forehead precisely, bisecting his brain.
At the inner commotion, she drew a second axe from her waist.
“Yeah.”
Rage at her friend’s ruined orphanage.
Trembling fury at the little one who’d called her pretty.
And now she remembered.
“This is my life.”
A goddamn shitty one.
Life is struggle.
Struggle is tragedy.
For freedom, the woman gripped her axe and charged ahead.
* * *
Squelch, squelch.
Each step splashed blood puddles, sticky sounds echoing. Passing heaps of uniformed corpses, she entered the room they’d swarmed.
“……You’re here?”
A woman greeted from one corner.
Tortured heavily, naked yet skin invisible under blood and wounds.
“Muse.”
The orphanage’s young director and Pindenai’s friend. She’d hidden well aiding Scrap Merchants secretly—how’d they find her?
Questions arose, but no time for them.
“Those dog bastards. You killed ’em good. Worse than animals.”
“……”
“I… didn’t… say anything. Where’d you find such a cool woman.”
“I know.”
Each word shortened Muse’s breaths, her body crumbling.
Yet Muse kept talking, and Pindenai didn’t stop her.
“Sorry… Wanted to protect the kids, but couldn’t.”
“I’ll save them. Doesn’t matter.”
Coughing blood repeatedly, Muse grinned.
“Camp 1. They took the kids to that hell. I heard everything.”
“……”
“Told you this… to keep me alive this long?”
Giggling, Muse exhaled deeply, struggling to inhale.
Pindenai placed a hand on her shoulder, thanking her will, but Muse looked back.
“Griffin… nice?”
“Yeah. Sun, wind, clouds, grass. All good.”
“Heh, hehehe! Jealous. What’d you do there?”
“……”
She hesitated at the question but soon smiled bitterly, sharing the secret on her friend’s final path.
“Fell in love.”
Muse’s eyes widened at the unexpected answer.
“Cough! Cough! Damn it!”
Cursing her state in disbelief, Muse exhaled.
“Why spill such fun stuff now, idiot.”
“Dunno. Blame the timing.”
“Ah, fuck… Was gonna die, but now gotta live for you.”
Pindenai’s love story reignited Muse’s will to live, curiosity burning.
But breaths grew faint.
Ragged gasps softened to quiet snores.
“Let me meet that guy… Check if he’s any good…”
“No way. He’s so damn cool, you’d fall too.”
“Tried to steal him… Busted.”
They chuckled wryly. Muse slowly raised her hand, overlaying Pindenai’s on her shoulder.
“Me… just sleep a bit. Prep that story…”
“Got it.”
“Pindenai…”
Her fading voice held a first and final sob.
“The kids… please.”
Muse’s hand slipped gently away. Pindenai watched silently, then closed her eyes and nodded.
“Yeah. Sleep well.”
Pulling a cigarette from her pocket. She’d thought to cut back recently.
Now, she couldn’t hold out without it.
Thick smoke enveloped Pindenai and Muse naturally.
It felt like Deius Verdi granting Muse peace in death, lightening Pindenai’s heart unknowingly.
“Hoo.”
Four left now.
But this one wasn’t a waste.
Staring blankly at her friend, Pindenai stood abruptly, grabbing her two axes.
Commotion outside.
“Level 1 fugitive, terrorist Pindenai! You’re surrounded—surrender peacefully!”
Sneering at the absurd warning, Pindenai stepped out slowly, smirk on her lips.
Clock Republic’s mongrels swarming, encircling the orphanage.
Repose is long sleep, they say.
Her friend just closed her eyes— this noise would keep her awake.
Grip.
Her axe hands tightened.
Through their transparent shields, her reflection: blood-matted white hair, cheek smears.
And the blood-tide gloves.
Gifts from her master, knowing she grew stronger the longer the fight.
Thanks to them, perhaps.
Her body still burned hot.
No— it had been since crossing North Wedden Mountains back to Clock Republic.
Pindenai’s heat hadn’t faded, like constant battle.
So maybe that’s why.
Facing numbers she’d normally flee, she brimmed with leisure.
“Have I ever fought this long?”
Musing, she bit her lip, charged again, axes raised high.
Life is struggle.
Pindenai grows stronger the longer the battle.
Bullet barrages flew without warning, swept away by her mana gale, never touching.
A technique from Griffin Kingdom.
Leaping high, landing central, gale whirling around her.
“Surround and beat her to death!”
“She’s level 1! Can kill on sight!”
“Whoever catches her gets promoted!”
Her axes sank like teeth into the charging soldiers who didn’t retreat.
How many hours passed?
Pindenai’s body was blood-soaked, vision blurred.
Staggering past corpse piles on the bloodied path.
In the distance, her left-behind Scrap Merchants rushed urgently toward her.
Spitting hot breath, refusing to fall, Pindenai said.
“To Camp 1.”