Flashback (5): The Scent of Death
The scent of death hung heavy over the battlefield. Not even the metallic tang of clashing steel or the acrid bite of gunpowder could mask the blood-soaked stench rising from the rivers of corpses. Amid the horrific screams echoing from every direction, Cain and Ariel stood atop a high hill, gazing down at the carnage.
"Do you really have to go?" Cain looked at Ariel with eyes full of worry.
"Yes."
Their expressions couldn't have been more different. Ariel's reddish-brown eyes burned fiercely beneath his black robe.
"It's my fault. Cain, it's all my fault."
"Ariel, no one thinks that."
"If I hadn't been so pointlessly proud, they would still be alive."
Ariel choked back a sob as he thought of Fabian and the other three comrades. It was all his doing. While his comrades had joined the imperial forces from the outset of the beastkin rebellion and rampaged across the battlefields, he had hesitated. All because of his petty pride.
When the Empire had first requested the Blue Tower Lord's aid at the rebellion's start, Ariel had refused. It would interfere with his magic research, and he was fed up with the imperial command's arrogance. So yes, it was his fault.
Cain and Ariel had both expected the beastkin rebellion to be swiftly crushed. But contrary to their predictions, it had grown in scale, claiming countless lives—including those of Cain's disciples and Ariel's comrades. All because of his pointless stubbornness. There was no reason for it, yet Ariel began to blame himself for his friends' deaths.
He should have gone to the battlefield before they died and helped them. He shouldn't have let his stupid pride get in the way. But no matter how much he mocked or tormented himself, the dead wouldn't come back.
Only then did Ariel seek out Cain on the battlefield and declare he would cooperate with the imperial forces. Now, Cain regarded him with sad eyes.
"Don't force it. Do you really think they wanted you to seek revenge? Think again. Do you believe charging into battle on the excuse of vengeance, consumed by rage, is truly what Fabian wanted?"
"Whether they wanted it or not, I'm going to have revenge. I'll cut off the head of the beastkin king myself."
"I just worry that you'll..."
"I know what you're worried about, Cain."
Ariel cut him off.
"You're afraid I'll die, right? Unnecessary worry. You know my skills."
"...Ariel, this is a battlefield. One mistake leads straight to death."
"Do you think I'll make a mistake?"
"You never know with people."
"Then that's my fate. You can't fight destiny."
"Ariel."
Ariel spoke with a self-mocking indifference, and immediately regretted it. Cain was only saying this out of concern, and Ariel had been too rude.
"You're being too emotional right now!" Cain grabbed Ariel's shoulders with both hands and shouted. It was anger born of worry for his friend.
But contrary to what Ariel thought, Cain wasn't concerned about Ariel's life. Knowing Ariel's prowess well, he didn't expect him to die. The rebellion's suppression was nearly complete anyway, leaving no enemies capable of threatening Ariel. Instead, Cain feared Ariel's emotions might lead to a grave misjudgment. Sending him off like this felt like tempting some irreparable disaster.
To Cain, Ariel was the epitome of outward strength masking inner fragility. He projected confidence and pride on the surface, but inside he was endlessly soft. His frequent displays of stubborn pride stemmed from that. As a battle mage who had stormed countless fields, Cain had witnessed soldiers breaking down firsthand. Ariel might suffer mental scars or lasting trauma.
"I have to go."
But Ariel's tone was resolute. Cain realized he couldn't stop him. He simply reaffirmed Ariel's headstrong, obstinate nature. At that moment, someone approached from behind.
"Tower Lord, imperial orders."
It was the imperial army's supreme commander. Ariel turned to face him.
"Speak."
Ariel was the Empire's greatest mage, capable of subduing a thousand men single-handedly. Even the knight commander, unmatched in personal martial prowess, couldn't best him. But this was wartime. Though they usually respected each other, once involved in the war, Ariel fell under the imperial chain of command.
The commander unfurled the operation orders.
"All beastkin royals, including the king and queen, are to be executed on sight."
"Understood."
Ariel gave a curt bow to the departing commander. Then he tore a teleportation magic scroll and infiltrated the distant beastkin royal palace.
Ariel methodically slaughtered his way through the enemies, hunting the royals. Soon, only one girl remained: the beastkin princess. Right after slaying the king—the prime instigator of the rebellion and Fabian's killer—Ariel discovered her hiding under a table.
She thought herself well-hidden, eyes squeezed shut, trembling in a ball. To Ariel, her position was obvious.
It was Terria. That fluffy tail and perked ears unmistakably marked her as beastkin, instantly conjuring images of his fallen comrades in Ariel's mind.
He wanted to kill her. Ariel approached to do just that.
But the moment their eyes met—those cobalt blue eyes—he couldn't muster the killing intent.
His closest friend, who had occupied the biggest place in his life, flashed in his mind. Fabian. She had the same cobalt blue eyes and golden hair that reminded him of Fabian.
Ariel hesitated. Their features differed entirely—hair and eyes were the only similarities, and even gender didn't match—but it didn't matter.
"Please spare me... sniff... I'll do anything if you let me live. Please..."
Terria began pleading tearfully to the Ariel looming over her with murderous intent. At the same time, something in Ariel's heart whispered not to kill her.
He couldn't understand himself. Why?
Ariel agonized inwardly for a long time. In the end, he decided to spare Terria. It was an impulse, a fleeting whim. Life is full of such moments, he told himself. It might plant seeds of regret later, but it felt right. Killing her now would haunt him forever. This felt like a turning point in his life.
Ariel rationalized it as best he could. In the end, she bears no responsibility for the rebellion. The king and his cronies had led it. Politically naive at the time, Ariel hadn't grasped the implications of the order to kill all beastkin royals. He had simply followed commands.
Soon, Ariel scooped up Terria and swiftly escaped the palace. He filed a false report to headquarters claiming all royals eliminated. The rebellion had failed; in a few years, things would quiet down, and he could release her then—or so he thought.
Unfortunately, three years later, the Empire still obsessed over the missing princess, far beyond Ariel's expectations.
It's a simple story. My comrades—Fabian and the other three, who were like parents to me—all lost their lives suppressing the beastkin rebellion. So in the end, it's my fault.
I should have killed her back then, three years ago. I should have killed Terria. Someone else would have done it anyway, but at least I wouldn't have brought her back alive.
That's what I think now. I couldn't help hating her, couldn't help tormenting her—so in hindsight, killing her would have been better. Who could have foreseen this? That Terria would steal my body? And even if I had known, could I have resisted tormenting her? Probably not. I know that.
I can't rationally blame her for my comrades' deaths in the rebellion. She's just the daughter of the villain who led it. She bears no responsibility for Fabian and the others.
But people aren't rational. Hating the child of your enemy—the one who took your parents or loved ones—is hard to avoid, even if that child is innocent. Seeing her made my blood boil; I couldn't stop tormenting her. That's how it was for me.
Even knowing it was foolish to hold a seventeen-year-old accountable for the rebellion or my comrades' deaths, I couldn't help it. It's ridiculous. We're bound by mutual hatred and resentment. Her parents killed my comrades; I killed her parents.
Three years on, even that has faded. The sorrow of losing my comrades is gone, leaving only hatred for her. Call it inertia. I'd forgotten why I tormented her and just kept at it out of habit. That hatred vanished once she became my master.
Now, I just regret it. Why did I spare Terria that day three years ago?