Chapter 153: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (17)
Chapter 153: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (17)
Anger is a volatile emotion.
It burns hotter than anything else in the moment, but once it settles, reason usually returns quickly. That was why I preferred to remain silent whenever my blood began to boil.
I never knew what I might do when I was enraged.
Furthermore, I was a noble of the Empire and a skilled swordsman attending the Academy. The weight of responsibility for my actions was incomparable to that of an ordinary citizen.
Perhaps because I had lived a relatively stoic life, I had never truly reached the peak of fury.
Today, I learned the truth for the first time.
Anger was not a hot emotion. On the contrary, as it deepened, the storm raging in my mind grew quieter.
It was silent and cold.
A chilling, spine-tingling hostility dominated my chest. Like a blade honed to a razor edge, my thoughts produced only the means to slaughter my opponent.
The moment Emma was slapped and fell, a memory surfaced.
A woman with a deathly pale face, seen in the temple's concentrated healing room.
Her father had been weeping. It might have been my fault. No, deep down, I believed it was my fault.
The mental images overlapped.
Snow fell upon the fallen woman. A bloodless face, covered in lingering wounds. The sword she had refused to let go of until the very end lay beside her, looking utterly desolate.
The woman whispered soundlessly into my ear.
"…Live."
How was I supposed to live?
I wanted to ask that in a trembling voice, but the words wouldn't come out.
The memory shifted again. The season had changed its colors.
A man stood before a flickering ember. In a solemn atmosphere, priests and soldiers knelt in prayer.
It was a ritual to send a soul to the Heavenly God.
He stared at the flames without a word. Inside that tiered wooden altar, the woman’s body would be resting. The man bit his lower lip against the surge of emotion.
He was wrong.
He had been too complacent. Why did realization always come too late? To avoid regret, one had to become more cruel than anyone else.
So that no one could ever touch what was yours.
Golden eyes, shimmering with moisture, drifted into the air.
The blurred scenery passed through clouds of dust toward a desert. There, too, a woman stood.
Her closed eyes showed no sign of opening.
She was blind.
A low rumble shook the earth. A grating, wheezing breath could be heard.
In the distance, a mountain range was moving. A living black shadow—one of Omeros's Seven Deadly Sins.
At that overwhelming sight, silence and terror cut through the army of thousands.
Countless faces were pale with fright. It was not a situation where morale could be rallied.
Even the man could not maintain his composure before that gargantuan entity. His golden eyes went blank for a moment.
It felt impossible to even conceive of the possibility of 'victory.'
Nevertheless, the woman with closed eyes remained serene. A faint smile played on her lips.
"Leave, Sir."
"But…"
The startled man tried to shake his head, but the woman's will was adamant.
"You still have things to do. Don't you?"
The man opened his mouth, then closed it.
His head hung powerlessly.
"…If we die, we die together."
"Then, this is a command."
With that low declaration, countless geometric patterns began to be drawn in the air.
Dense mana invaded the laws of physics like heavy humidity. The atmosphere hummed and vibrated. Such was the greatness of a Great Witch.
The woman smiled. Though her eyes could not be seen.
"I am simply facing my own karma. So please, Sir…"
A voice that pierced the heart like a curse.
"…Please, live."
The neighing of a horse echoed across the empty plains. It was a mournful cry.
As he rode and rode, the man grit his teeth.
It was because he was weak.
That was why he had to run. His was a life where even dying together was not permitted.
Never again. I will never run again.
I will never back down again.
The repeating voice echoed in my ears. My eyes burned red.
One by one, precious people had withered away.
There was a man who carved each of their names into his chest, leaving them as scars that would never fade, as he stumbled forward.
Even as darkness fell, those golden eyes remained vivid.
Kill them.
It was a faint whisper, but the sound tickling my ear was unmistakably clear.
You must kill them. If not, tear them limb from limb.
So they can never resist again.
Suddenly, my vision returned.
A woman looking up at me with trembling eyes entered my sight. Her limbs had been taken one by one, leaving her in a miserable state with only a single leg remaining.
It was a gruesome scene.
And yet, I felt surprisingly indifferent.
I spoke in a bleak voice.
"Who told you to do it?"
It was an abrupt question. Lady Ruphesia’s expression went blank for a moment before she stammered back in a shaking voice.
"W-what do you… I-I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you everything!"
The moment I raised my sword, she immediately curled into a ball, racking her brain with everything she had.
The blood loss was severe. No matter how trained an Academy student was, that much blood loss would cause anemia.
Dizziness was inevitable. Yet, even as she struggled to think, Lady Ruphesia suddenly cried out as if she had realized something.
"…The Newspaper Club!"
My arm, which had been holding the sword high, froze.
The Newspaper Club. It was a name I had heard before.
Hadn't someone said it was a branch of the Imperial Intelligence Agency?
A hollow, half-formed laugh escaped my lips.
It was pathetic.
"T-the Newspaper Club told us… that you wouldn't want to be expelled! They said if we wanted to get on the Princess's good side, we should harass the people around you… E-everyone said so!"
The puzzle finally felt like it was coming together.
Those disguised as the Newspaper Club were actually agents of the Imperial Intelligence, and naturally, they were experts at information manipulation, propaganda, and agitation.
I didn't know how they had managed to manipulate the prickly nobles of the Academy, though.
I could find that out in due time.
If I went to the Newspaper Club and beat the truth out of a few of them, they’d talk. Most of the Imperial Intelligence agents of this era hadn't even properly completed torture resistance training yet.
Peace was a terrifying thing. It tended to seep into daily life like a poison, much like boredom.
Lady Ruphesia was still gasping for air, looking up at me. Her pupils were dilated, likely due to the blood loss.
I contemplated for a moment.
Should I use this opportunity to make an example of her so no one would ever touch those around me again, or should I just let it go?
The hand holding my sword tightened and loosened repeatedly. This went on for a long while.
It was an unexpected person who finally ended my hesitation.
"…I-Ian!"
At the call of the girl I had forgotten, my thoughts drifted for a moment.
Who was that again?
I slowly turned around. There, reddish-brown hair fluttered in the wind.
The woman threw herself into my arms, embracing me.
At that soft touch, my memories slowly replayed. Right, it was Emma.
The person I had to protect.
My senses snapped back to reality. The peculiar sensation of suddenly surfacing from a dream into the real world struck my mind.
Gasping for air, I stumbled backward. My head throbbed as if it were about to split open.
The light green gaze looking up at me was pitiful. A whirlwind of emotions swirled in those trembling eyes.
Surprise, worry, and fear.
Emma was afraid of me. It was only natural. No human wouldn't fear a madman who severed limbs without hesitation.
And yet, Emma had suppressed that fear to come to me. For my sake.
Only then did I look around with a clear mind.
Dark red bloodstains were everywhere. It was a bloodbath.
"I-Ian… are you okay? Y-you didn't look normal……."
At Emma’s tearful words, I gradually retraced my memories.
I had lopped off their limbs one by one. And I had responded to Lady Ruphesia’s provocation with even more brutal violence.
Why did I do that?
Initially, I had only intended to beat them up a bit. Break a nose or two, and if that wasn't enough, use the insult to a noble house as an excuse to hit them a bit more.
A duel involving a noble's honor was always a fight to the death, after all.
But from the moment the thread of my reason snapped, I simply couldn't stop.
Emma’s slender body was trembling slightly. The shock hadn't worn off yet. This was not a side of me she should have seen.
My expression darkened.
"I-I'm okay… so you can stop now, Ian. Oh no… look at all this blood……."
Sobbing, Emma pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began wiping the bloodstains from my face. I still couldn't say a word.
Self-reproach flowed from Emma’s lips.
"I-it’s because of me… I-it wasn't supposed to go this far. I'm sorry, Ian… I'm just a commoner girl causing trouble……."
Before she could break into full sobs, I gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
Emma flinched, then looked up into my eyes.
I gave a weary, bitter smile.
"…It’s okay, Emma. I think I just… went a little strange for a moment."
I shook my head to clear the stray thoughts.
The state of the groaning female students was becoming dangerous. That was the risk of severe blood loss. Even the hardy students of the Academy had their limits.
Mana was useful, but it wasn't omnipotent.
If the heavy bleeding continued, they would die. So, I spoke to Emma.
"Emma, do you have any potions?"
"H-huh? I have a few……."
Then the plan was simple. I made a careful request.
"Can you give them some first aid? After that, go to the temple and call the Saintess. If you tell her I sent you, she’ll understand."
"…What about you?"
I fell silent for a moment.
Emma’s eyes were filled with worry. Even though she must still be afraid of me, seeing her worry for me this much made my heart feel a bit lighter.
But since I had started this, I had to see it through to the end.
I spoke with an awkward smile.
"I need to go to the dormitory and change my clothes. I'll stand out too much walking around like this, right?"
It was true in its own way. And it was also a clumsy excuse.
If you caused an incident, it was right to stay and clean up the mess. Saying I would leave it to Emma, a third party, was strange.
But Emma seemed so confused that she simply nodded.
As I prepared to leave the scene, I took a brief look at the carnage I had created.
Fortunately, the cuts were clean. With the Saintess’s skill, reattaching them shouldn't be a major problem. Though they would need to rest for a long time.
Perhaps I had tried to maintain some semblance of a line even then. To be honest, I had half-lost my mind at the time, so my memory was hazy.
Nevertheless, a single thought remained, driven deep like a stake into a frozen pond.
I had to head to the Newspaper Club.
If I didn't suppress them, these kinds of incidents would keep repeating. With my resolve set, I began to walk.
My eyes sank back into a cold chill.
The Newspaper Club was a club with a fair amount of history and tradition.
While many clubs published newsletters, only one held the name 'Newspaper Club.' That alone showed how established the organization was.
That is, if you ignored the fact that the quality of their 'newspaper' was terrible.
Perhaps because of its status, the Newspaper Club occupied an entire building, unlike other clubs. It was a small two-story building, but considering most clubs were only assigned a single room, it was a significant privilege.
I stood before the main entrance. A member of the Newspaper Club who was just entering glanced at me.
My clothes were splattered with blood, so I certainly didn't look normal to anyone.
Sensing something was off, the club member asked cautiously.
"Um, what business do you have…?"
I ignored him and kicked the front door open. The club member, looking dazed, immediately followed me inside.
Entering the front door led to a long hallway. Several club members were walking briskly about, but they all turned their gaze toward me.
The member who had followed me from outside grabbed my arm and shouted in panic.
"Hey! You can't just barge in like this!"
"…Imperial Intelligence."
The entire Newspaper Club froze in its tracks.
The club member looked at me with a strange expression. He tilted his head.
"What are you talking about?"
"You guys are the Imperial Intelligence. Is it okay for this secret to get out?"
The member holding my arm looked confused. He seemed to have no idea what I meant, and most people might have stopped there.
But I understood instinctively.
Here it comes.
A dagger, shot like a bolt of light, grazed my arm. It was only because I had quickly twisted my body and shaken off the club member.
Clang!
The sound of metal clashing echoed.
My hand axe and his dagger sent red sparks flying. The hallway was too narrow; it was better to respond with a hand axe than a sword for now.
The club member’s eyes widened, as if he hadn't expected me to react to a surprise attack.
That was the end of it.
Thwack!
The axe blade buried itself into his shoulder, crushing the cartilage.
The club member let out a faint groan and stumbled back.
The eyes of every single person in the hallway were now fixed on me.
"So, stop the bullshit and come at me."
With those words as the signal, the club members threw the documents they were holding onto the floor all at once.
The battle had begun.