Chapter 50
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Another Monster That Inherited the Blood
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Marigold let out a hollow laugh, utterly exasperated.
"Hey, Commander. You really thought a girl who just lost her mom would give you a nice little 'Yes, sir'?"
"That's not what I meant. Something feels off. Her presence is completely gone..."
Desperation was etched across the Commander's face.
Seeing it made Marigold furrow her brow sharply.
"Whatever. Move aside. Let me see."
Marigold brushed past the Commander, shoving him out of the way as she headed inside.
Overreacting.
Esira probably just wants to be alone.
Besides, what must the Commander look like to her?
Like some deadbeat who abandoned Asrania and went chasing after other women.
God, he's so dense. Freaking out just because she didn't answer once.
Marlboro and the Commander followed close behind.
Soon, they reached Esira's door.
Marigold came to a stop.
The bowl of porridge she'd left by the door was gone.
She must have taken it inside.
"Esira! It's me, Marigold. The Commander's losing his mind worrying about you. Say something."
No response came.
With no reaction, Marigold shrugged.
"See? She's just ignoring us—"
"Wait."
Marlboro, who had been pressing his ear to the door, went pale.
"...It's too quiet. I can't even hear her breathing."
A crack formed in Marigold's relaxed expression.
"You two are both full of it."
If she were alive, it couldn't be this silent.
A chilling premonition crawled up her spine.
"Hey, Esira. Cut the joke. We know you're in there."
"......"
"Esira! Hey! Answer me!"
Bang, bang, bang!
She pounded on the door until it rattled.
Yet inside remained utterly still.
If she were asleep, this noise should have woken her.
This wasn't normal.
"You're in there, right? Esira!"
No matter how deep her sleep, this racket demanded a response.
Then Marlboro voiced the unthinkable possibility.
"What if she can't answer? Not won't, but can't."
"Don't jinx it."
Marigold bit her lip. Her mind swirled with horrific imaginings.
No way. She can't be. She just can't.
She couldn't wait any longer.
"Out of the way!"
Golden threads extended from Marigold's fingertips.
Click. The lock sprang open.
She flung the door wide.
"Esira!"
For better or worse...
The worst fears were unfounded.
The room was empty.
The bedding was neatly made. Only the curtains fluttered in the breeze from the open window.
"...She's gone?"
Marigold murmured blankly.
The Commander and Marlboro, following behind, were speechless for a moment.
"What the hell? Where did she go?"
"Looks like she went out the window."
Marlboro approached the window and gripped the railing.
"There are traces. She left on her own."
"How did this happen!?"
Marigold raised her voice.
"A kid who's not even right in the head sneaks out in the middle of the night—what kind of situation is this!?"
The Commander stared straight out the open window into the dark forest beyond.
"No time. She couldn't have gone far."
"Where the hell did you go, Esira."
Marigold clenched her fists tight.
She forced down the dread rising in her throat.
Please.
Don't do anything stupid.
The thought crept in, eating away at her mind: maybe Mom died because of me.
If Mom had never met me.
She wouldn't have died in the first place.
I'm too weak.
The conversation from that final day with her mother flashed by like a montage.
"I'm scared you'll get hurt, so I've turned into a coward."
"Please, just stay somewhere safe. That way, I can fight without worrying about you."
It all happened because I was weak.
If only I'd been a little stronger.
No—even if I could just protect my own body.
This tragedy never would have come.
"She'd want you to eat well and get your strength back more than anyone. You know how much your big sis loved you."
Marigold's words echoed in her head.
Get my strength back?
Yeah.
Strong people don't just cry.
So I...
The acrid stench of rusting iron and rotting filth assaulted her nostrils.
With every step, sticky mud clung to her soles.
A lawless zone beyond laws or order.
Ironically, this landscape eerily mirrored the day she first met her mother.
She wanted to know.
Was she doomed to be protected forever?
Could she inherit her mother's will and become a predator surviving even in this hell?
I'll become like Mom.
Clenching her fist filled her with resolve over fear.
I need to get strong.
Like Mom.
So no one can touch me carelessly.
Just like Mom.
Esira walked deeper in on her own. Soon, presences flickered from afar.
"Hey, hold up."
Rough-looking men blocked the alley, stepping into view.
The thick reek of booze and stale blood hit all at once.
"What's a swan doing in this muck?"
Their eyes raked over Esira.
Lustrous hair, flawless white skin, expensive clothes.
She could hear them smacking their lips.
"Fancy duds. Looks like a rich kid."
One man's lip curled up.
"Lost?"
The men were already appraising the girl before them, putting a price on her head.
"Hey, careful. If she's some bigwig's daughter, we're in trouble."
The man's eyes gleamed.
"Doesn't matter. We make her disappear clean—no one the wiser. Looks like a runaway brat anyway, right?"
The men chuckled as they closed in. That was when it happened.
Esira, head bowed, spoke up.
"Mister."
Her voice was dry.
One man paused.
"What? Gonna beg for your life?"
"No."
Esira slowly raised her head.
Dull eyes, devoid of any spark.
Beg?
She wouldn't.
Only a chilling, crystalline curiosity gleamed coldly in her gaze.
"Just curious. Are you guys strong?"
"...What?"
"Tough enough not to die even if killed?"
"Ha, this bitch is crazy—"
The man sneered and stepped forward.
Esira's hand flashed like lightning. The sword at his waist flew into her grip as if drawn by a magnet.
Slash.
"Guh...?"
The man's eyes widened in delayed realization.
Splurt!
Blood fountained from his throat.
His face frozen, he crumpled emptily to the ground.
A drop of blood splattered Esira's cheek.
She didn't even think to wipe it.
She looked down at the corpse, as if confirming the result.
"Uh...?"
Too sudden—the men froze.
Esira didn't miss the opening.
One step, then another.
The blade tip plunged into another man's body.
"Guh..."
A choked gasp escaped.
He grabbed futilely at the blade before collapsing.
In the blink of an eye.
Two men reduced to cold meat.
"Weak."
Esira muttered, gripping the blood-slick hilt.
The enemies her mom faced wouldn't have dropped so easily.
"C-Crazy bitch! Get her!"
"Fuck! Don't kill her! Just break her limbs!"
"Make sure she never gets up again!"
The panicked men drew bats, iron pipes, daggers, and charged all at once.
Esira gritted her teeth and raised her sword.
She blocked the incoming blows but was pushed back.
A young teen's body. Underdeveloped muscles.
Outnumbered, her arms soon went numb.
Still, she couldn't retreat.
Like Mom.
That single vow steadied her shaking legs.
But an iron pipe from a blind spot slammed her shoulder.
Thud.
"...Ugh."
Pain like shattering bone exploded through her.
Her vision tilted.
Her body staggered under the searing agony. A groan slipped out.
But she didn't drop the sword.
Not over yet.
Esira clamped down harder.
Blood filled her mouth.
Stumbling to regain balance, she swung instinctively.
The arm of a man lunging carelessly split open. Red blood spurted with a wet smack.
"C-Crazy bitch!"
"Shut up! Just kill her! A girl like that will cause trouble if we let her live!"
Their eyes shifted from capture to kill. Murderous intent surged.
"Die!"
An iron pipe swung wildly at her.
Esira gritted her teeth and raised her sword.
Clang!
Sparks flew as metal clashed.
Her entire arm throbbed.
Her wrist felt like it might snap. Her grip trembled violently.
"Hah... hah..."
Her breaths came ragged.
"Tough little shit. But it's over. You're alone."
"......"
The man closed in leisurely, victory assured.
"Don't worry. We'll make good use of the body."
Esira's eyes narrowed slightly. Her lips glistened with blood.
"Don't talk like you know me."
For an instant, time seemed to freeze.
The descending pipe halted right before her nose.
The life drained from Esira's eyes.
Weak?
No. I'm not weak.
No more protected child. No more pitiful daughter.
I don't need that anymore.
The shackles deep in her heart snapped.
Black energy rose from her feet, dark vapors coiling around her.
"...Huh?"
Color drained from the men's faces.
"W-What the hell..."
Instinct drove them back.
Could they even call this a child?
Something wearing human shape, stuffed full of despair.
"I'm not weak."
In that moment, red light flashed in her eyes.
Esira swung the greatsword horizontally once.
No finesse, no flair.
Just raw power. Crushing with bare force.
The man in front didn't even leave a shape behind.
"She has to be around here somewhere."
The Commander quickened his pace, anxious. A witness had spotted a girl deeper in the slums.
"Why would Esira come to a place like this..."
Marigold scanned the surroundings, incredulous.
"What purpose could she have in a filthy dump like this?"
At Marlboro's words, Marigold eyed the black puddles on the ground.
"Purpose? Here? Sightseeing the trash heaps?"
Her expression soured further, utterly baffled.
That was when it happened.
BOOM!
A massive roar echoed from afar, like the earth crushed under a giant mace.
"...What was that?"
Marlboro whipped his head around reflexively. An explosion—no, more like a collapse.
The Commander's face went sheet-white in an instant.
"This way. We have to hurry!"
The three sprinted toward the sound. Mud sucked at their shoes, but they ignored it.
The closer they got, the sharper the metallic tang of blood stung their noses.
Oddly, the nearer they drew, the quieter it became.
"Huff... huff..."
Breath heaving to the limit, they reached a dead-end alley.
The Commander stopped first. He had no choice.
"What in the world..."
Marlboro and Marigold, catching up, were struck dumb.
The ground spiderwebbed with cracks, sunken in pits. Mangled flesh scattered everywhere, unrecognizable. Walls smeared with blood like paint, drying thickly.
In the hellish scene stood one girl.
"...Esira?"
Marigold's voice trembled faintly.
Esira slowly turned. Her glossy hair matted with blood, clothes sodden and heavy with gore.
The worst was her expression.
Icy eyes gazing down at the sprawled corpses.
In that moment, Marigold stopped breathing. It felt like decades peeled back.
...Big Sis?
She saw it overlap.
The demon who painted the battlefield red without batting an eye.
Asrania.
That blood-soaked figure standing silent wasn't a child—it was Asrania from back then.
"No way..."
Marigold unwittingly stepped back. A cold shiver raced up her spine.
Another monster that inherited the blood.