The Pity That Could Not Be Borne
Glacia’s consciousness was instantly dragged into a void. Inside it stood a silver-haired little girl crunching away at snacks she had never seen before.
“Ah, so it’s your turn this time?”
“You are…”
“That’s not what matters right now, is it? Keep going like this and you’re dead. Do you even understand how strong she is? She was holding back against you. Fight her seriously and she’ll take your head clean off.”
The girl before Glacia flashed a bright smile and poked her squarely in the forehead.
“Honestly, how pathetic. Here you are, someone who’s lived a full, warm life, trying to empathize with a person who’s survived real tragedy just because you received a few discriminating glances. How do you think that makes the other person feel? It’s infuriating. Saying ‘we’re the same’ right before getting your neck sliced off.”
“I never intended that. It’s simply that she wore a different face from the villains I’ve encountered until now, so without thinking I wanted to reach out. Still, no matter the circumstances… if she were to extend her demonic hand toward that person…”
“Aigo, what a sucker… It’s always these types who lose their minds when their lover dies, grab a sword, and start massacring everyone in sight.”
Glacia felt the girl looked strangely familiar. She resembled one of the portraits of past gods she had seen on the cathedral wall her devout father had once led her to.
I am the fourth-generation god. Unlike my predecessors, I deny nothing. Children living beneath my reign, if you harbor any resentment toward me, challenge me gladly. My proud apostles shall accept your challenge at any time.
“Could you be… the fourth-generation god? No, the deity who rules the current world?”
“Wow… You’re the first person I’ve met with such polite speech. Everyone else just tells me to shut up and hand over power, or calls me a brat without caring who I am…”
“How could I possibly speak irreverently to one as exalted as you, who governs this very world?”
“A bit of a boring pushover, but… you’re the most likable out of everyone I’ve met so far. First place, easily. So I’ll give you a small reward.”
“A reward…?”
“I’ll let you use that sword without any of its risks.”
Glacia wanted to ask why this goddess was connected to the sword, what her relationship with Werner was. But the moment the question rose to her throat, her consciousness began returning to reality.
“To the girl you’re fighting… please tell her I’m sorry.”
The instant Glacia’s mind snapped back, what filled her vision was Kay charging forward wrapped in enough electricity to overturn the world itself. Blocking with the demonic sword would only conduct the current and kill her. So she swung her second blade.
Ice Sword Hokhan. The supreme famous sword that carried cold capable of freezing the earth solid. It had originally been a demonic blade that would freeze even its owner’s body, but thanks to the goddess’s favor that risk had vanished long ago.
A collision violent enough to shake heaven and earth erupted. The impact dealt considerable damage to both sides: Kay’s right arm froze over, while a lightning burn seared Glacia’s left leg.
“Haha… That’s a pretty good sword.”
“Of course. It was bestowed by an exalted being and blessed by someone of rather high station.”
“Yeah, that’s how you people always are. Relying on things like that. Noble bloodlines or gifts obtained through them, things the unfortunate can never attain… It really makes me sick.”
Kay discarded her shattered rapier, snatched one of the abandoned swords nearby, and swung it. It was by no means a fine blade. Merely low-quality iron sloppily hammered out by an unskilled blacksmith. Yet the moment it entered Kay’s hand, it became a weapon capable of slaying even a dragon.
“That rapier was actually a discarded piece too. I never touch so-called famous swords. It’s bad luck. Putting ranks on weapons? Disgusting. Ranking people by birth is already revolting enough for humans.”
Even with her left arm frozen, Kay’s skill remained terrifying. Attacks that far surpassed the speed of sound, tenacity that let her ignore a slash to the abdomen, and the sense to dodge most strikes; in every aspect she stood above Glacia.
“I’m going to deny all of it. Talent, bloodline, inheritance, every last thing people never worked to obtain. That Werner mage, and you too, I’ll kill you all and deny your existence. Then I’ll create a world where even the pathetic can live with smiles on their faces…”
Kay finally spoke the words of killing Werner aloud. The old Glacia would have lost her reason and charged, only to be cut down. But the Glacia of now simply let out a soft sigh and expressed pity instead.
“You really are a pitiful person. Both you and that Tristan.”
“…What the hell is this bullshit all of a sudden?”
“I admit there are those who are born with talent and bloodline and then brag about it. And I understand the feeling of wanting to deny such things. However…”
No other emotion colored Glacia’s expression. Only pure sympathy and compassion remained.
“Does that mean you can’t deny them unless you kill those people? Do you truly believe that’s the only way?”
“Shut up.”
“Both you and that man named Tristan… you can only endure by killing such people, can’t you? You’ve lived lives so broken that you’d go mad if you didn’t. That is what I ‘pity.’”
The deep compassion etched on Glacia’s face and the word “pity” that left her lips were things Kay could not tolerate. The moment her parents sold her to a brothel because of an appearance she never asked for. The moment an unexpected constitution awakened and she killed someone, landing in prison where the guards did unspeakable things to her. The moment she was dragged to the execution ground like a dog. She had endured all of it.
But what she could never endure were the pitying gazes and words of sympathy from the other women in the brothel, the guards who never touched her, and the citizens who watched her being hauled away like an animal. Emotions sent not to offer real help but to satisfy their own cheap sense of morality. Looks and words from people no better than her who simply happened to be born in slightly better circumstances. Those were what she found disgusting beyond endurance.
“Die!!!”
“Unfortunately, I cannot allow that.”
Glacia deliberately sliced her own right arm lightly with the demonic sword. Hot, noble blood spurted out like a fountain.
“Ha, suicide? Something like that won’t even kill you…”
“My mother is a vampire.”
Before the charging Kay could ask what that mattered, a crimson ice arrow pierced her body.
“Huh…?”
“And manipulating blood is a vampire’s inherent authority.”
She had not yet reached the level of her mother, who could manipulate even the density of blood to create spears. But by freezing blood with the Ice Sword Hokhan, she could imitate the feat. Even frozen, the blood was still hers. Though she had once felt ashamed of being only half vampire, that noble bloodline was what defined her.
“Don’t… fuck with me!!!”
What Kay could not tolerate was not pity directed at herself. It was the pity and compassion directed at her dear friend, Tristan. He had saved her from execution where her life should have ended like a dog’s. He had reached out with eyes that held kinship rather than pity. She could not stand anyone sending him sympathy.
“Insignificant bug! Beggar born in the gutter! Whore from a back-alley brothel! You can laugh at me for rebelling above my station! I don’t care!”
By now, pity or compassion aimed at her no longer enraged Kay much. But if someone dared speak the word “pity” toward her friend… that was a different story. Then she would stake everything to tear that person apart. On the day she was saved by her friend, she had sworn it. Everything she had was for her friend.
“I have never called you those things. It is you who defines yourself that way.”
Glacia assumed the basic stance of the swordsmanship her father had taught her. Even if she had been discriminated against for being only half human, the recognition and love her father had given her were more than enough to overcome that discrimination.
“The moment you define yourself so negatively…”
The northern swordsmanship her father taught her, the vampire blood her mother bestowed, and the cold of the sword Werner had given her. These three combined to create a technique that belonged only to her. The frozen blood of a vampire transformed into countless ice blades and spears that began to dance beautifully alongside her sword.
And the place where those blades, spears, and her sword all aimed was clear.
“You never had any chance of winning.”
She could say it precisely because she had once hated herself more than anyone. Yet because Werner had accepted her, telling her there was nothing shameful about it, she had been able to move forward, leaving behind Kay who had stopped inside the darkness.
If she had been unable to advance, she would have surely lost to Kay.
“Both you and the human called Tristan who you call your friend… in the end you never tried to escape the darkness. You chose to cling to each other and stop moving. More than any past you carry… that is what I pity the most.”
Glacia herself seemed slightly exhausted, perhaps from losing too much blood.
“Haa… I’m worried whether Sir Werner is safe. And that child Airi… I’m a little worried about her too. Because she’s an idiot.”