Chapter 108
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 108
The carriage they were riding was the only decent thing they’d managed to salvage from the wreckage near the golem.
Since Swallow had smashed everything indiscriminately, finding a usable carriage—let alone a driver—was nearly impossible. With the added burden of the heavy golem, their only option was a cargo wagon.
The next problem was figuring out who would pull the wagon they’d somehow managed to procure.
“I thought he'd struggle since he's so small, but he's surprisingly strong.”
Swallow turned his head toward the driver's seat.
Just as they were worrying about the lack of any decent horses, Melju's black monster dog had stepped forward as if volunteering for the job.
Swallow had wondered what a creature smaller than Melju could possibly do, but the results were plain to see.
“I shall forgive your earlier transgression.”
If the monster dog hadn't stepped up, they would have faced the worst-case scenario of walking all the way back to the Primordial Core. To Swallow, the creature was practically a savior.
While Swallow was pettily dwelling on how the dog had ditched him after serving as a pillow—only to now have its sins pardoned—Melju was biting her nails, her expression fraught with worry.
“Ugh, no matter how I look at it, isn't this monster abuse? The golem alone must weigh a ton, yet our dog Swald has to pull this all by himself…”
“Huh? Melju, what did you just call him?”
“M-my tongue slipped! I meant to say 2 Ounce, because he resembles Lord Swallow.”
“Anyway, he seems to be pulling it just fine. Given his species, a pat on the head during breaks should be more than enough for him.”
“Mmm, come to think of it, Lord Swallow, what exactly is our Sw… 2 Ounce's species?”
“First, can we do something about that cheap-sounding name?”
Even as he grumbled, Swallow couldn’t easily answer Melju's question and beat around the bush.
Based on her earlier comments, Melju seemed to think it was some kind of Hell Hound. If he told her the monster dog's actual species—no, its true identity—she would undoubtedly be shocked.
“I'll tell you later.”
“I want to know! Tell me! Surely I have the right to know the species of my own subordinate!”
“Melju, when Lord Swallow says that, there's usually a reason for it.”
“Ugh…”
As Swallow made a vague excuse, Rene backed him up. But from the look in her eyes, she was just as curious about the monster dog's true identity.
…But now wasn't the time. Swallow changed the subject, his tone lazy.
“Anyway, my mind is at ease.”
He felt he’d done his best to wrap things up. He hadn't intended to take it seriously, but the humans had provoked him, and he’d ended up putting in some effort in spite of himself.
Even if it was just a single golem, it was still a gain. Patrick wouldn't nag him about this, at least.
‘Besides, Patrick said it was fine to smash things this time.’
Without questioning why he, the boss, was being swayed by a mere gatekeeper, Swallow emptied his mind and let out a soft sigh.
Ironically, this journey home was the most at peace his mind and body had felt in a long time.
‘Like hell I'm ever going on a trip like this again.’
He'd rather get nagged at home. He truly just wanted to rest.
The shabby carriage's canopy was in tatters, offering a clear view of the night sky through the gaps.
Lying down, Swallow gazed up at the night sky.
The constellations that once indicated the date and location in Judeca had drifted apart, forming an ordinary arrangement that could be seen anywhere.
After staring blankly at the sky, Swallow closed his eyes.
“Lord Swallow.”
As he was enjoying the sounds of nature on their journey through the night, Rene quietly spoke up.
When Swallow half-opened his eyes, Rene asked, her expression far more serious than before.
“Why didn't you kill the humans?”
At Rene's question, Melju, who had been watching the monster dog, also turned her gaze to Swallow.
Swallow had neutralized the masterpiece's veil with a low-tier spell. He could have easily killed the humans then and there, but he hadn't immediately crushed them to death.
Although he had fired black thorns at them, there was a clear delay in his attacks.
This had been weighing on both of their minds.
Even if wiping them all out was impossible due to their wide formation, he could have easily killed their leader.
—Yet, Swallow's attack had been delayed, and the humans vanished via teleportation magic the moment it landed.
He could have killed them.
But he didn't.
“Even revealing your true form took much longer than usual.”
“That's…”
“R-Rene only said that because she was worried about you, Lord Swallow! Please don't mind her…!”
“No. That was because you two were nearby. I had to be careful.”
“……Ah!”
Rene's face flushed as red as the flower in her hair.
“And as for why I didn't kill them…”
Swallow chuckled and continued.
“But I did.”
“Pardon?”
“What… do you mean?”
Two bewildered voices spoke up one after another. Swallow replied to their confusion in a nonchalant tone.
“Like you said, I could have just crushed them to death.”
“But when I thought about how they’d messed with my dog, simply killing them felt too lenient.”
*
The funeral for the Edelbreas Black Wolf Knights was a small affair.
No matter how elite they were—every last one of them a knight—they were still a subjugation squad before they were a knight order.
It was common for subjugation squad members to die fighting monsters. Historically, their deaths were never grandly commemorated unless they were of a Hero's caliber.
This time was no different.
The Cuckoo's Nest.
The cemetery where the subjugation squad members of Riaze were buried.
Gazing at a tombstone beneath a giant tree, Uin placed a handful of flowers upon it.
A cold wind blew.
The hem of her blue dress dragged on the ground, getting dirty, but Uin couldn't bring herself to look up.
“...”
The few who stood behind Uin were all members of the Edelbreas Black Wolf Knights, each of them wearing a dark expression.
When Uin showed no sign of looking up, Barisik, a long-haired knight watching silently from behind, finally spoke.
“Uin, remember Bern's subjugation squad that headed to the Primordial Core.”
He was the wielder of the magic sword 'Blood Mary,' one of the two masterpieces owned by the knight order, and a seasoned veteran.
As such, he understood better than anyone the devastating loss of the masterpiece 'Wall of Heart,' and the tragedy of their fallen comrades.
Yet, his voice was steady and serious—a sincere sentiment, free of exaggeration.
“Only four died. We only lost one masterpiece.”
“……I know.”
Cuckoos lay their eggs in other birds' nests. Cuckoos have no nests of their own.
People often used the phrase "Cuckoo's Nest" to refer to things that did not exist.
Subjugation squad members had to look forward and march on. Their fallen comrades could not be allowed to hold them back.
It was better to deny the very existence of the dead than to let them become an anchor.
As if they had never existed in the first place.
“I know that, too.”
Uin clenched her fists.
She knew all too well that the situation had been so dire they had to resort to saying "only four died" when they had lost four precious comrades.
While it was wrong to compare deaths, their outcome was a miracle compared to Bern's subjugation squad.
They had survivors. In a situation where they should have been wiped out, Sturman, Uin, and Ar were still alive.
“They say the Captain can't make it.”
As they stood in silence before the tombstone, Garot, who had set out late, quietly approached from behind.
Garot placed the flowers she had brought onto the tombstone.
Beside the white flowers Uin had placed, an ash-gray flower was added.
“He's very busy, apparently. And there are eyes on us. An entire city vanished and we're the only survivors, so there are countless reports to submit.”
Having so many subjugation squads in Knecht had backfired.
Defeating the monsters that raided the town was a potential achievement, so most had tried to handle it themselves instead of reporting back to Riaze.
A breakdown in communication born of overconfidence.
Standing before the tombstone, Garot closed her eyes. Uin glanced at her sideways, but unable to meet her gaze, she lowered her head again.
“Miss Uin.”
Garot's voice broke the silence.
“A Hero is not omnipotent.”
“I couldn't do anything.”
“You are doing well, Miss Uin.”
“I'm so frustrated with myself.”
Uin's fists clenched so tightly her body trembled. She had been suppressing her emotions ever since the fight in Knecht, bottling them up until she felt like she would explode.
“If only I had been stronger, I could have killed that blade-maid bitch.”
Uin gritted her teeth.
“……If only I had been stronger, everyone could have survived. If I had been stronger still, I could have defeated Swallow! That's what I was supposed to do…!”
“Uin.”
“And three months ago in Riaze! If I had been strong enough to stop Swallow then, none of this would have happened. Everyone could have lived in peace. It's my fault. It's because I'm weak. I killed them all…”
“It just wasn't the right time.”
Garot's response was flat and cold, as if she had fully expected this reaction.
She continued.
“You will have to defeat him one day. A time will come when only you can. These sacrifices are for that moment. Everyone is fighting for that single victory.”
Garot looked back at the flowers.
The white flowers Uin had placed.
Uin was white.
Unstained. Her heart was so pure white that she could be stained at any moment.
A time would come when she would have to be.
But not now. Not yet.
“So for now, just be, Miss Uin.”
*
Swallow had deliberately spared them. Anyone who had looked that monster in the eye and wasn't completely mad would think so.
‘…Why?’
Ar pondered, sitting alone in his silent office.
Swallow could have killed him instantly. There had been a gap of about two seconds between the piercing of the veil and the activation of the teleportation magic.
When a single second felt like an eternity, two seconds was a vast stretch of time that might as well have been forever.
During that eternity, why hadn't Swallow brought about his end?
Was there a reason he had suddenly stopped?
Ar could find no answer.
…It was as if his very body was refusing to find one.
His head throbbed with the effort. Perhaps he had been sitting for too long; a sharp ache pierced his skull. Ar sighed, feeling dizzy.
The last thorn Swallow had unleashed had grazed his right eye. A miracle, if one could call it that. The wound beside his eye was shallow, and the eye itself was unharmed.
But one thing bothered him.
…His vision was blurry.
‘Am I just exhausted?’ he mumbled, rubbing his eye. Thrust into such a complicated situation, his fatigued body seemed unable to adapt. Hoping to rest it, Ar blinked.
……
……
That was when he noticed something strange.
“Huh?”
Ar uttered a sound of confusion, touching the skin around his eye. The sensation was dull.
Dull?
No, it was gone. He'd thought his vision had merely grown blurry, but it seemed to have narrowed as well.
Realizing something was seriously wrong, Ar shot to his feet. Rising too hastily with his unfamiliar vision, he knocked his white knight uniform from the back of his chair. He didn't care.
He scrambled to the mirror. The area around the wound was stained black.
“……”
And in that narrowed field of vision, he saw a gaze watching him from behind.
It was a black entity, writhing like slime, staring at him from over his shoulder.
Ar whipped his head around.
Nothing.
A hallucination? No, it was too vivid. Something had definitely been there.
He looked down. His own shadow was writhing.
It flickered, as if alive.
“No…”
A black mass surged from his shadow, crawling up his body to wrap around his neck. It squeezed, threatening to snap his spine. The lack of oxygen made his consciousness waver.
Desperate, he fumbled for a weapon, his hand closing around a sharp candlestick. He raised it to strike, but when he looked at its tip—
“Ah.”
The candlestick was writhing like a living monster.
He wasn't moving it, but the sharp tip twisted on its own, pointing directly at his remaining eye.
Ah.
Ahh.
An illusion?
‘It's an illusion. This has to be an illusion.’
Forcing the thought, Ar regained a sliver of composure. The black things receded. He gasped, dragging air into his burning lungs.
He still couldn't see out of his right eye. The loss of vision was no hallucination.
“Haa, haa.”
Just as things seemed to quiet down, his vision exploded into black and white. The colors flickered dozens of times a second, the world flashing and distorting before him.