Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Hunt the Weak Ones First. (7)
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Bruno's door came into view. I figured it would be noisy with the sounds of torture, but unexpectedly, there was no sound at all.
"It's quiet."
Moritz muttered, seemingly sharing the same thought.
"Yeah. I thought he'd be screaming his head off by now."
Noah scratched his head before bursting into a hearty laugh.
"Maybe he already spilled everything and passed out on the floor? Haha."
He approached the door and peered through the hole.
"Huh?"
"What's up?"
"Uh, no... There's no one inside?"
The lock was still firmly in place. That meant they hadn't come out this way.
Noah hurriedly rummaged through his belt and pulled out a key. With a clank, the door swung open.
"Brother Bruno?"
No answer came to his call. The room was utterly silent.
And then, from somewhere, a smell wafted over, tickling his nose. A foul, chilling, spine-tingling stench...
"...What the hell is that?"
Moritz squinted and pointed to one spot.
It was the workbench where Bruno kept his usual tools. Beneath it, on the floor, lay something like a dark, shriveled stick.
"Beats me."
Noah approached it with Moritz, then
"Eek!"
screamed and stumbled back.
"Th-this is..."
Noah clamped a hand over his mouth. Moritz furrowed his brow.
It was a human arm... or rather, what had once been one.
It looked like a pitch-black, withered stick, but the joints and finger shapes remained, barely identifiable as an arm.
"Grotesque."
Even Moritz, who had seen plenty of filthy sights in his line of work, let out a groan.
"Ughhh."
Noah, less hardened to such things, felt nausea surging up, like he might die. Afraid he'd actually vomit if he kept staring, he averted his gaze.
"...!"
But there was something even worse than the arm. A head, unrecognizable as belonging to anyone.
"Uwaaack!"
Noah finally doubled over against the wall and heaved. Yellow bile from his stomach soaked the floor.
"Ugh, urk."
He barely suppressed the retching and wiped his mouth.
"Damn it. What a shitty day this is turning out to be."
Adding this to the earlier incident, it felt like he'd emptied his guts from both ends, leaving him feeling filthy.
"No, come on, Brother Bruno."
Noah grumbled as he peeled himself off the wall.
"What am I supposed to do if you go and kill him before I even get to question him properly?"
The head was still hideous no matter how he looked at it. He'd never seen a severed head like this before.
"Obviously, the guy pissed him off."
Noah slowly approached the head rolling on the floor.
"But why is the head already..."
He leaned in for a closer look and fell silent.
It wasn't an unfamiliar face. The familiar chin beard, the hair color too.
The head's owner was someone he knew.
Thud.
Noah collapsed right there. His lips trembled before he finally squeezed out a few words.
"Br-Bruno... Brother?"
Noah's teeth chattered.
'Brother got taken out? By that guy?'
He couldn't believe it. It felt like a dream.
Something he never thought could happen had become harsh reality, crushing him.
"..."
Meanwhile, Moritz had been coldly scanning the surroundings.
He had even spotted the headless corpse that Noah hadn't yet noticed. The body missing one arm.
"Looks like he got him."
Even amid this horrific scene and Bruno's death, he remained detached.
"Over there."
At the end of Moritz's gaze was another open door. He took a step toward it.
"W-wait, let's go together!"
Noah scrambled to his feet.
He didn't want to be left alone here with Bruno's corpse.
'Something's off.'
Everything felt unnaturally eerie.
A brute like Bruno had his throat slit and arm severed, yet not a single drop of blood stained the room.
Moreover, the clearly freshly killed body had already rotted like it was decades old.
"Not a good feeling."
Stepping out into the hall, Moritz muttered gravely.
"A real pro. Enough to decapitate Bruno in one stroke."
"O-one stroke?"
Noah, trailing behind him, gaped.
"H-how did you know that?"
"You can tell from the cut surface. That guy... as expected."
Moritz frowned.
"He's no ordinary servant."
"R-really?"
"Can't rule it out. Could be an assassin sent by a rival guild."
"An assassin?"
Noah's eyes widened. He recalled the suspicious aura emanating from that young man.
"And the state of the corpses..."
Midway down the corridor, Moritz stopped. He extended an arm to block Noah.
"Hold up."
The hallway was unnaturally quiet.
Moritz pointed toward the end of the corridor. The door to the slave pens was open, with two bodies sprawled in front of it.
"Gasp."
Noah hurriedly covered his mouth. Moritz finally clicked his tongue.
"The guards got hit too, huh."
"Th-those are the guards...?"
Noah's mouth hung open.
He could barely infer they were guards because of their location; anywhere else, he'd have mistaken them for corpses crawling out of graves.
"Approach quietly."
The two crept silently toward the pens.
"..."
They froze at the entrance. The sight inside hit them like ice, chilling their limbs.
A man was plunging a pitch-black sword into a slave's heart.
"Aaaagh!"
The slave clutched at the stab wound, letting out agonized moans. Far more tormented than a mere stab wound should cause.
"-!"
Noah instantly understood why the previous bodies looked like that.
Psssh—
The slave's body began shriveling from the stab wound. Like air leaking from a balloon.
"Grrrk..."
It didn't take long for the slave's body to wither into a wretched husk, drained of all blood and vitality.
"Haa."
The man withdrew the sword with a languid sigh. Hearing that voice sent chills down Noah's spine.
'It's him.'
Definitely that young man. But the voice was slightly different from what he remembered.
Still a youthful timbre, but deeper, far more sinister. Above all, that sigh carried pure ecstasy.
"Fuu."
The young man exhaled softly, brushing back his hair. A smooth, painted-on smile curved his lips.
"..."
Noah didn't dare breathe, swallowing hard.
The young man was shockingly handsome, like a sculpted statue. Noah had never seen such beauty in his life.
Hair blacker than the midnight sea fluttered, dark eyes flickered like hellfire.
The harmony of those hues made him seem inhuman, alien.
"..."
Noah's breathing grew ragged. A cold, misty fog of death's scent emanated from the young man, heavy in the air.
'One, two...'
He counted the neatly piled corpses beside the man. All in tattered, worn clothes—definitely slaves.
'Six.'
Including the one just killed, that made seven. Half of the twelve slaves, wiped out.
A devastating blow that threatened their future business.
'We're screwed. Totally fucked.'
As Noah's lips quivered, he spotted a corpse in familiar clothing.
'The coachman.'
Only one reason for him to be here: to round up the slaves from the cart back into the pens.
'So he took out Bruno back then and came here already?'
Chills raced up his spine. Impossible speed.
The reason it was possible had to be that suspicious sword the young man wielded.
'What the hell is that sword?'
A slender blade flickering with pitch-black flames. Astonishing that it was forged from metal so dark, and held its edge.
'No, not metal.'
It felt like the void itself shaped into a sword.
'Run. Got to run.'
Every circumstance screamed warning. Stay here, and he'd die—a clear, terrifying future vivid in his mind.
But the moment he steeled himself, someone shoved him hard from behind.
"Ugh!"
Noah tumbled forward, realizing in that instant.
'That old bastard!'
Moritz had chosen to flee alone, sacrificing him as bait.
'Shit.'
Sprawled on the floor, Noah looked up. His eyes met the young man's gaze.
The young man's lips curled slowly. A smile sparkling with interest, like spotting fresh prey.
'I'm dead.'
Noah's vision darkened. He squeezed his eyes shut once, then opened them—already, the young man was charging at him, robe billowing.
"-!"
Noah clenched his jaw, bracing for the sharp pain.
But.
"Huh?"
Nothing happened. Instead, the flapping of the young man's robe passed by his side.
"Huh? Wha?"
Noah whipped around in shock. What he saw then was,
"Gah!"
The sword plunging into Moritz's back. The young man had precisely targeted Moritz's heart from behind.
"Kkh, kkh, guk."
Moritz followed the fate of the others. Frozen mid-flight, a new corpse was born.
"U, uwaa."
Noah crawled backward frantically. What terrified him wasn't Moritz's death.
"Haha."
The young man's smile scattered purely like a child's, his laughter bright as sunlight—it drove people mad.
Because it meant he was genuinely enjoying this 'slaughter.'
"U, uuk."
Noah's lips trembled. Urine leaked down his legs again.
'I don't want to die.'
Tears streamed unnoticed from his eyes.
Thud.
The young man casually shook off Moritz's corpse and turned. He began approaching Noah slowly.
Step, step.
The quiet footsteps cut sharp as the reaper's blade.
His pitch-black eyes fixed on Noah, unmoving. Even with remaining slaves nearby.
He didn't quicken or seek stronger prey. Purely instinctual, like a beast.
"..."
Finally, the young man's steps halted before Noah.
Noah stared up, face drained white as a ghost. He watched the sword slowly rise into the air.
A sour scent assaulted his nose. The fragrance of death.
Just before it consumed him, just before the sword slashed down,
"P-pl-please!"
A wail burst from Noah's mouth.
"Sp-sp-spare me!"
Noah grabbed the hem of the young man's pants desperately.
"Please, spare me! Please!"
He didn't even know what he was saying. Words probably wouldn't reach this young man anyway.
"I'm sorry for the nonsense earlier! I must've lost my mind for a second!"
His terror-stricken mouth moved on its own.
Noah begged desperately for his life, over and over.
"I-I never wanted to put you in that room! That old man you just killed—he's the one who ordered me!"