Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Fake Madness, True Madness (2)
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The vast cavern was utterly empty, a hollow void.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
The faint sound turned the entire space into a resonating instrument.
The sound of water droplets crashing onto the frigid stone floor and scattering.
That chill from the underground air echoed regularly through the cavern.
Plop.
Splat.
Then, an intrusive dissonance crept in.
It was also the sound of liquid hitting the cold floor and splattering, but thicker and murkier.
Splat.
The source of that sound was blood.
Blood that had thoroughly soaked the bandages wrapped around the woman's wounds.
Druen.
Abandoned in one corner of the cavern, her form resembled a doll.
A ragged doll, patched and repatched until its original shape was lost.
Only one thin arm remained of her limbs, bearing the weight of her body's movements.
Her skin, scarred with brutal ridges like roughly dug earth, was rarely free of bandages.
The few exposed parts would have looked better covered for aesthetic reasons alone.
Iron Sword. Swordmaster.
Not even fragments of the dignity and solemnity that name once evoked remained in her wretched state.
Druen's few remaining senses detected the presence of a visitor.
"I'll change it for you."
The defeated one, Hela.
She peeled away Druen's sodden bandages.
Bandages that now served the role of skin without shame.
Druen didn't even twitch as they were removed.
Hela showed no hint of revulsion either.
It had become all too routine for them.
"Druen."
Only after finishing her ministrations did Hela continue.
"I offer you my respect."
"…"
"The core of your pain has been fully filled."
"…"
The unpleasant noise from her damaged vocal organs was impossible to interpret.
Yet Hela understood.
Iron Sword.
That she was expressing joy in her characteristic calm and solemn demeanor.
Because those eyes, still holding their unchanged light, shone especially bright.
The Iron Sword had kept her promise.
She had upheld her own convictions.
The defeated paid her respect—
And the Iron Sword felt pride in it.
Jane and Felix.
After last night's banquet ended, they had held a secret meeting.
There, they made a bet that wasn't quite a bet.
By tomorrow afternoon, who would fill more of the pain core.
They also promised.
No going overboard.
And so, now.
Jane's party and Felix's party gathered together.
"Jane. How'd it go?"
How much time had passed in the awkward atmosphere.
Felix cautiously broached the subject.
"…"
The paragon hero who never lost his flawless smile, even in any situation.
Rarely, his complexion was darkened.
A depraved situation where he had to drive himself into pain.
For the paragon hero's personality, accepting that was never easy.
Even thinking of methods was the same.
"I asked Camilla and Bellota for some intense sparring."
"…"
Felix nodded slowly.
Yeah.
For his personality, the 'self-harm' he could come up with was about that level.
Hoo.
His companions beside him let out heavy sighs.
The elf companion, Camilla.
She muttered discontentedly.
"Sparring my ass. You basically told us to beat the shit out of you one-sidedly."
"…Sorry."
Don't apologize.
A hero shouldn't bow his head so casually.
The usual Camilla would have said that in an irritated tone.
"…"
But now, she just sighed again and dropped her head weakly.
Last night.
Recalling the self-destructive act she had performed with her companions after a grueling decision.
Jane was injured.
Bruises and abrasions large and small covered his body, and his right arm—the worst—was fractured and swollen.
Injuries even serious battles wouldn't cause.
The pain core filled by that.
Jane placed it on the table.
"…"
Camilla and Bellota averted their eyes from the pain core, as if they'd seen something they shouldn't.
They did that.
Saw that horrific sight.
Yet the pain core hadn't filled even a hundredth.
How many times would they have to repeat last night's horror to fill it completely?
Dozens?
Hundreds?
Maybe the number didn't matter.
Their thoughts pushed further beyond last night's events.
Images of companions with even graver injuries arose.
"Ah..."
Camilla covered her face with both hands.
Bellota gently rubbed her back.
"…"
The paragon hero watching his companions.
The shadow on his expression deepened further.
"I've let you down, Felix."
He forced his usual smile and spoke.
"I tried my best... but the results are disappointing."
Jane reflexively reached to scratch the back of his head, then flinched.
The arm he raised was the fractured one.
Even then, he first checked the pain core.
Maybe it had filled this time.
No miracle.
His forced smile twisted.
"Damn it."
Felix felt a tightness in his chest.
Jane looking so listless and dark.
He'd never even imagined it.
And his own position, unable to offer comfort, made it worse.
Thud!
Felix slammed the pain core on the table irritably.
"Remember? What those fanatics did yesterday."
Felix's face twisted as he spoke.
He thrust his chest forward.
As if fleeing the feel of his clothes on his back.
"Felix, you don't mean...!"
Jane looked at him in shock.
In his place, Pochena, the holy sword of insight, answered.
-Not sure if this phrasing is appropriate, but whipping is a very efficient method.
-Efficient? Pochena, you're calling your master's self-flagellation efficient?
Elishia, the paragon holy sword, was appalled, but Pochena continued unperturbed.
-But it's true. Whipping is one of the safest ways to inflict pain. No matter how excruciating the agony or wounds, they won't cause disability or death.
-Oh, really? That efficient? Then why are the results like this?
The pain core Felix placed on the table was hardly different from Jane's.
The minuscule dark red liquid filling the orb brought only despair, not accomplishment.
"Hold on! What the hell are you saying!? Do you know how I felt doing that to Felix while you leisurely sparred!?"
Tilla, Felix's companion.
She, who had kept her mouth shut with a complicated expression, exploded.
"Leisurely? Leisurely sparring!? You done talking!?"
Next was the elf Camilla.
"You're the leisurely ones!!! Talking about 'efficient pain' in this situation!? Look, Jane broke his arm going all out, but your hero—"
"Ca, Camilla! Calm down first!"
"Bellota! Perfect timing! Telling me to calm down? How? Like you standing back with arms crossed yesterday!?"
"What!? What does that have to—"
"Isn't that what you mean? I'm the bitch who can't calm down, you're the good one stopping me. Yeah! You can calm down! You did nothing yesterday! Jane's injuries are basically from my attacks!"
Camilla raised her voice, eyes reddening.
Her hands and ears trembled violently recalling yesterday.
"Please! Stop it! Elves can't express themselves any other way!?"
Tilla shouted in a trembling voice, her own eyes red.
"Then what should I do!!! In this situation! What the hell am I supposed to do!!!"
The elf's cry turned into a hysterical scream.
"Pain core? Bear the pain!? I don't know, I don't know!!! What is all this suddenly!!!"
"…Sorry, Camilla."
Jane gritted his teeth and bowed his head.
Seeing that, the elf's face crumpled.
"Don't bow your head so casually in front of others... How many times have I... "
The elf couldn't continue and began to sob.
"…"
Bellota also began sobbing silently.
"…"
Tilla covered her face with both hands.
"Damn it."
Felix's low curse cut through their sobs.
He was a hero.
Master of the holy sword.
He was confident he could fulfill his role against any evil.
And thus, prove his worth.
But in this situation, what should he do?
What could he do when he had to injure himself and his companions?
It was a horrific kind of helplessness.
In this mood, maybe he could easily harm himself to fill the core?
As Felix glared at the pain core with venomous eyes.
"This is enough."
A solemn voice interjected among them.
Druen.
She stood at the table, collecting Jane and Felix's pain cores.
"Master!?"
She looked sternly at her two startled disciples trying to step forward.
"This was my choice from the start. My burden to bear. I can't trouble you two more than this."
"But—"
"Enough."
"…!"
At that stern rebuke, the disciples fell silent.
"This will do."
The master's face, delivering the stern words, looked precarious, on the verge of collapse.
They lacked the courage to see their master like that.
Time flowed endlessly in the uncomfortable, heavy silence.
Perfectly timed, perhaps.
Sudden visitors shattered the silence.
Hela.
She had come to the mansion leading the defeated.
"…"
Hela surveyed Druen's group welcoming her.
She nodded inwardly.
She instantly grasped what had transpired among them.
Swordmaster. Hero.
Even those bearing great names couldn't substitute for the defeated's duty.
The defeated's expressions colored with pity and exaltation at realizing that fact.
Hela spoke to Druen in a somewhat excited tone.
"Forgive the sudden visit. An old woman's meddling concern."
"…"
The defeated.
The hero's party.
Their gazes crossed for a while.
Soon, Hela opened her mouth.
"Of course, I don't think my actions are idle interference. Right, Iron Sword?"
"Yes."
Druen answered without hesitation.
Lest her own hesitation infect her disciples.
And breed greater despair.
"I request your aid."
"…!"
Ah.
Aaah.
Hela unwittingly let out an elated sigh.
And then.
As Hela grabbed Druen's hand to lead her.
"Ah, everyone's gathered here."
Rishir.
He emerged from behind the mansion and approached Hela directly.
"…"
Sniff sniff.
Hela's expression twitched faintly as she looked at him.
She detected a faint bloody scent from him.
Had he tried filling the pain core in his own way?
Truly admirable.
Hela looked at Rishir as if he were a commendable child.
To such Hela, Rishir said.
"May I ask one question?"
"Speak."
"The pain core I received—is it perhaps something special? Among pain cores, I mean."
"…"
Grasping the intent of the question, Hela wore a subtle smile.
His own attempts hadn't filled it, so he suspected the item.
Rishir was a righteous man willing to share the pain despite it not being his burden.
Hela decided to show respect befitting that admirable effort.
"Yes. A very special item."
Letting Rishir believe as he wished.
"Ah, as I thought..."
Rishir nodded as if understanding.
"Then, could I get another one perhaps?"
"…"
Did he believe a different pain core would fill properly?
Hela pondered how to protect his admirable yet arrogant faith.
"Ah, and one more thing?"
At that moment.
Rishir pulled something from his bosom and continued.
"How many of these do I need to fill to complete Druen's quota?"
It was a pain core filled to the brim overnight.
Oh.
O defeated one.
A few defeated behind murmured in daze.