#21. One Word Incurs a Thousand-Nyang Debt. (完)
"...You mean for a slave to make me kneel?"
Sregon asked in disbelief. But Rosel's gaze was unwavering.
"It seems sitting at Brikal's side has made you forget your origins."
"What?"
"You're a half-breed, one of those races hunted by us humans and sold into slavery, aren't you?"
"..."
Rosel's pointed words silenced Sregon. Small tusks—not quite orcish, not quite human—protruded from between his lips. Half-breeds were rare and reclusive, fetching high prices as slaves. Sregon himself had ended up on an auction block, caught Brikal's eye, and been made the royal torturer.
He had forgotten for far too long. He, who held no title, no sainthood, no middle name, was nothing more than a mangy guard dog watching over the underground dungeon.
With that one remark from Rosel, Sregon was reminded of his lowly station. Indeed, this steel chair had a peculiar magic for putting one in their place.
"...You're right. I was a slave."
"Quick to admit it—good. Now beg for forgiveness."
"Fine. If it gets me out of here, I'll do anything."
Sregon shed his anger and relaxed his body. He knew well that false pride could snap a lifeline in this place, so he dropped his stubbornness. No point stirring trouble when he couldn't even match Rosel in strength.
With a resigned expression, Sregon slid his chained ankles behind the chair legs and bent his knees.
"...Unless Isel's heart moves, there will be no mercy. Leave your petty pride on the chair."
"No intention of that. Don't worry."
No falsehood showed in Sregon's mismatched red and blue eyes. He glanced at Isel—not as the torturer, but as a mere criminal.
Then his head plunged. By the time Isel's eyes followed, his forehead was already slamming into the stone floor.
Thud!
Sregon's brow struck the dungeon floor with cannon-like force. But his half-orc skull was steel-tough and held firm.
Thus, forehead to the ground before Isel, Sregon prostrated himself and confessed his sins.
"I'm sorry...! Emilia! I sincerely apologize for every pain I inflicted on you!"
As if pleading for her to recognize his sincerity, Sregon bellowed. His voice rasped like it was clogged with phlegm, but Isel didn't cover her ears.
She, who once trembled and plugged her ears at the mere sound of his footsteps, now stared at him clearly.
Thud!
Sregon smashed his forehead again and continued his apology.
"Truly sorry! I serve the king. His command is law—I had no choice...! This apology won't erase your rage, but please, recognize my sincerity! Emilia!"
Isel, yet to step fully into the cell, watched him. Her expression was complex, a swirl of emotions. Just two months ago, she had sat in that chair, apologizing for crimes she never committed. And Sregon, who had only listened then, was now the one begging forgiveness.
Emptiness? Sorrow? Fury? No single word could capture the meaning in her eyes.
"..."
Silence hung between them.
"...Hic...! Hic...! S-sorry! I swear I'll never commit such sins again...!"
Suddenly, Sregon broke, tears streaming down his face. Tears of true remorse? Isel couldn't tell yet.
All she knew was that this moment felt unreal. The nightmare she'd dreamed of ending had knelt before her, and she seemed to have reached the end of the horror she'd longed to escape.
Isel decided to fold away these tangled feelings. Complexity meant much to unravel. But she was too weary to sort through them one by one.
To heal her wounds, she'd need to inflict the same 65 days of hell on him—more than she'd endured, to feel any relief.
But she was too exhausted to endure that trial.
She simply wanted to escape this vicious, intricate fury that surged now and then.
If his remorse was genuine, that would suffice for Isel. Now she could break free.
Of course, she was still bound by Biela, Daltan, Gleon, and Brikal. But escaping these 65 days in the dungeon would be enough.
Torture's scars differed from betrayal's. If freedom from the dungeon's ruin healed her battered body and soul, that freedom could be the foundation to mend the wounds of betrayal.
And so, soon, hot tears welled in Isel's eyes and pattered onto the cold stone.
"Hic... Hic..."
She was free. At last.
Whether Sregon's repentance was real didn't matter. Even if false, Isel would believe it true and flee the dungeon's harsh yoke.
Thus, tears flowed from her eyes. Thus, a smile bloomed on her lips.
Isel covered her face with small hands, shedding healing tears for a long while.
Now she could escape. From all the terror gained in this underground dungeon.
Until Isel's sobs subsided, Rosel and Sregon waited in silence. Rosel knew the meaning of those tears, so he let her cry until they stopped on their own.
Healing. Overcoming. Forgiveness.
The hero Emilia was pure, adventurous, resilient. She also had a delicate, warm heart.
Of course, these tears didn't mean full forgiveness for Sregon. But Rosel sensed she wept to overcome her trauma, to finally escape the nightmare. So he waited.
She just wanted to end her weary ordeal with this small satisfaction. If Isel overcame her trauma, he was all for it.
Rosel sent the tear-streaked Isel up to the surface first, then reseated Sregon and bound his arms.
"Y-you said she forgave me?"
"Since Isel forgave you, I'll honor that. But until the banquet ends, it's best you stay here."
"...Understood."
Two days in this darkness—but Sregon didn't complain. He knew groveling was how one survived the dungeon.
"I'll have proper meals sent tomorrow. Use the time for true atonement."
"...Thanks."
With that, Rosel exited the dungeon. The heavy iron door clanged shut, leaving a single torch to push back the gloom.
Sregon focused on Rosel's fading footsteps. Once they stopped, he suddenly snickered.
"Pfft, fools. Falling for it hook, line, and sinker. Once I'm out, I'll wipe them all out."
Sregon's mismatched eyes gleamed with malice. He'd only groveled to survive—a lesson learned from countless tortures he'd inflicted.
The moment he left this dungeon, he'd report everything to King Brikal and raze Rosel Territory. He grinned wickedly at the thought.
"Heh heh... Yeah, smash 'em all, then sample that bitch Isel's holes. Not torture—just a taste. No harm in that, right? Stupid slut. You'll regret today."
Muttering, Sregon snapped his fingers as an idea struck.
"Heh heh, right, right. Gotta do it right in front of that Rosel bastard. Watching his precious slave get raped? He'd regret today big time. Perfect, heh heh."
Ways to torment, subjugate, make others regret. Sregon, who had lived off such vile cunning, already had a head full of atrocities for Rosel.
But he didn't know. The true weight of the proverb: one word can repay a thousand-nyang debt.
"...I truly wished to show you mercy."
"K-keh?!"
A voice echoing through the cell made Sregon jump in terror. His bound body jerked violently.
At that omnipotent voice, Sregon scanned around in panic—but no one was there. Even if someone stood outside the door, they wouldn't have heard his whisper.
"...Pity. You just kicked away your chance."
"H-heek!?"
It was unmistakably Rosel's voice—the man who had just left. Yet it rang as if spoken right beside him.
He looked front and back again, but nothing. Absolute terror filled Sregon's mismatched eyes.
Then, a chilling presence stirred behind his neck.
"Didn't I tell you? One word can repay a thousand-nyang debt."
"R-Rosel?!"
Whirling around, Sregon found Rosel standing there, gazing down with sorrowful eyes.
He was truly saddened. He'd lost the chance to grant mercy.
"H-how in the...!"
"I merely borrowed a bit of power from a magic tool I developed specially for scum like you."
Even a master mage couldn't teleport or turn invisible on a whim. To Sregon, Rosel's sudden appearance was ghostly.
"Ah... A-ah...! Th-that was just a slip! Not sincere...!"
"Enough. Shut that filthy mouth."
Cold sweat beaded on Sregon's back. How he'd hidden his presence and stood behind didn't matter. Only his eyes did.
In that gaze looking down—no mercy, no anger, no sorrow. Nothing.
That parched stare felt like a death sentence.
"S-sorry...! This time it's real! Please! Spare m—!"
"The carriage has already passed."
Step by step. Rosel murmured lowly and walked to the cell door. Desperate, fearing it was the last he'd see of him, Sregon shouted.
"W-wait! King Brikal won't stand for this! You'll regret it! Rosel!!"
Creeeak. Rosel turned from the opening door, eyes brimming with pity.
His offer of mercy had been genuine.
"Regret... now belongs to Brikal, you, and those who betrayed Isel."
"R-Rosel! Wait! Spare my life, and I'll do anything! Hic... P-please, hic... mercy...!"
At last, terror wrung 'sincere' repentant tears from Sregon.
He regretted it. His loose tongue had cost him, just as Rosel said—a thousand-nyang debt unpaid.
But Rosel's eyes remained desolate.
"...A passed carriage looks only forward. Horses don't look back."
"Hic...! Sorry! Truly sorry! R-Rosel!"
"May you feel, in this place, the anguish of those you broke... and repent."
That was Rosel's final mercy. He'd recognized Sregon's 'loyalty' as true and hoped for shared righteousness.
Regrettably, he could offer only this.
Acknowledging his responsibility, Rosel began closing the door, etching Sregon's tear-distorted face of regret clearly in his mind.
"R-Rosel! Rosel!! Please! PLEEEASE!!"
Sregon wailed, but Rosel's hand on the door held no more mercy.
Scraaaape... Thud.
ROOOSEL!!!
The door sealed shut. Like those he'd ruined, Sregon could only tremble in absolute terror as his end approached.
By the very methods he'd used to destroy others.
It was a fitting end for him indeed.