Murder (2)
Loren turned and smiled.
Something about that smile—as if he already grasped the entire situation—was utterly repulsive.
“So that’s the little brat, is it? The one you like?”
At those words, Rhea looked at me.
One eye was swollen shut. Blood ran from her nose, and tear tracks stood out starkly on her cheeks from how hard she had cried. Clutching her torn clothes to cover herself as best she could, she flinched in shock.
“Ri… Riel….”
She bit her lip, fighting back the sobs.
At first it almost looked like relief.
Then Rhea’s gaze fell on the sword leaning against the wall. She dropped her head with a soft thud, desperately holding the tears in.
Even though I worked for the guild, she had never seen me actually hunt monsters. Loren was a grown man who carried a sword.
In her eyes I was still the same boy from our childhood.
Even in a situation like this, what terrified her most was the thought that I might die. That she couldn’t lean on me when she was suffering, that she had to pretend to be strong when she was terrified—it hurt like a knife driven straight into my chest.
“I-I’m fine… Ri… Riel—”
She seemed to be trying to tell me to go back. The moment she saw the sword she forced the tears down and tried to lift the corners of her mouth—swollen and barely able to move—as if she had come here of her own free will.
“…I… I’m… fine, so….”
Just moments ago she had been so terrified, so desperate to get away. She hadn’t even left the house intending for any of this to happen. The sight of her forcing a smile made rage surge up so violently I couldn’t hold it in. Whether Loren was there or not, I screamed.
“What’s fine about this—what the hell is fine—!”
Rhea tried to hold the tears back and failed, breaking into broken, hitching sobs. Every time that pitiful, sorrowful sound reached my ears, the fury that had just boiled over mixed with years of thoughts of revenge and every memory of Sister Flora, flashing through my mind without end.
I want to kill him.
I want to kill him more painfully than anyone has ever been killed—slowly, carefully, stitch by stitch.
Rage felt like it was swallowing me whole.
“Fine. Forcing myself on her right in front of you… heh… that’ll feel even more deliciously forbidden.”
Loren walked to the wall and picked up the sword. It was three times longer than the dagger in my hand and looked three times heavier.
Even so, I wasn’t afraid.
Even if I died, I felt I had to kill Loren.
I didn’t care if I couldn’t open my eyes for days afterward. He had tried to rape Rhea. He was the one who had caused Sister Flora’s death. I knew that if an orphan like me killed a noble, the sentence was death. I still wasn’t going to stand by and let Rhea be violated just because I was afraid of that.
Whoosh—!
I kicked off the ground.
Loren didn’t even bother raising his sword properly, as if a child like me was a joke.
Clang—!
The instant dagger met sword, my wrist screamed as if it would snap. Of course I was no match for him in raw strength. Loren swung the blade with one hand and still wore that leisurely smile.
“Heh. For a little brat, you’ve learned a thing or two.”
He had only casually knocked my dagger aside, yet my body staggered and was driven back. Seizing the opening, Loren closed in and drove a short leap-kick straight into my solar plexus.
“Ghk—!”
My breath locked. A massive pain exploded through my chest. But more terrifying than the pain was the thought that he might go back to Rhea.
“Riel, run—please, please—!”
Run? How am I supposed to leave you and run?
I promised.
“Nngh—!”
To keep that promise I clenched my teeth and forced myself back to my feet.
“Oh. Tough little bastard.”
Loren was completely at ease. If I died, what would happen to Rhea was obvious.
I spat pain out with my breath and gripped the dagger again. A head-on fight was impossible. Build, strength, reach—everything was against me. What I needed was to create an opening.
Even so, if I was going to kill Loren I had to get close somehow. I had to close the distance. But how?
I flicked my eyes sideways. Loren was still smiling as he approached, still looking at Rhea.
I glanced at my own arms and legs. It might have been wishful thinking, but it seemed he truly had no intention of killing me outright. He meant to cut off my limbs and rape her in front of me—the most disgusting thing imaginable. In the end, no matter what, his real target was Rhea.
“…Rhea, run! Now—!”
The moment I shouted, Loren glanced back. At the same instant I kicked off the ground again. As if he knew a trick this cheap wouldn’t fool him—as if he knew exactly how badly he had beaten her.
“She can’t run, you know?”
Grinning, he turned his head back toward me. I knew it too. Something this simple wouldn’t work on him.
Whoosh—!
I saw Loren thrust the sword, aiming to sever my arm and leg in one stroke. I could have dodged. But I didn’t think I would get another chance to close the distance like this. So I twisted my body as hard as I could and took the blade with my flesh.
Shhk—.
“Kyaaaaah—! Ri… Rieeel—!”
A red line opened across my shoulder. Blood sprayed. My left arm went instantly useless, hanging limp. But I had closed the distance. First objective achieved. Still, no real opening had appeared yet.
I need a bigger opening. I have to burn myself for it. Just like the first time I killed a goblin—I have to stake my life. I have to do something no normal person would ever do, something no one has ever experienced.
I knew that.
“G-Gyaaaaah—!”
Screaming, I swung my right hand. The dagger in my grip flew in a straight line at Loren’s face from point-blank range.
Instead of stabbing or slashing, I gambled. I threw the dagger.
“…Hah.”
Even Loren hadn’t expected that kind of madness; a dry laugh escaped him. Clearly the thought had never crossed his mind.
If he simply blocked it, I was as good as dead. And the thrown dagger flew on such an honest trajectory it was easy to bat aside. Maybe he thought I had given up and was just trying to die. As he tracked the dagger’s path, I almost thought I saw Rhea and Sister Flora reflected in his eyes.
Clang-clang—!
Loren raised his sword and knocked the dagger away. Both of his hands went high above my head, leaving his stomach and lower body completely exposed in front of me. He seemed ready to take one hit. I was just a half-grown boy with a ruined shoulder. Whether I punched him in the gut or cracked him across the jaw, he clearly thought it wouldn’t matter.
But that wasn’t the place I was aiming for. I wanted a vital point—something that would overcome the difference in size and deliver pain no one had ever felt before.
Thud—!
I knew I had to cripple him in a single blow so he couldn’t move again. I knew I had to do something a noble had never experienced. Deliberately reaching my right hand toward his face, I planted my front foot and drove my rear leg upward with every ounce of strength I had.
Crack—!
A heavy sound exploded as my foot smashed into Loren’s groin. Tears sprang to his eyes; he staggered backward.
Spittle ran from his mouth. His body folded in half. His face flushed crimson and veins stood out at once. In his eyes I saw pure shock and the instinctive terror of unbearable pain.
“Guh—! Nngh—! You… you little… fucking… brat—…!”
The sword clattered from his hand. Loren collapsed against the wall of the very house where he had meant to rape Rhea. The leisurely expression cracked; pain he had never known seemed to take over his mind.
No matter how well you’ve trained with a sword, no matter how talented you are—unless you’re one of those people who can handle aura or mana—someone who’s picked up a blade can’t beat me. There’s a difference in reach, isn’t there?
I forced my limp left hand to move, picked up the dagger, and with my right hand took Loren’s sword.
Clink… scrape….
I dragged the blade along the floor as I walked toward him. He was an adult, but the reach of a sword in my hands was no longer shorter than his bare hands. A blade was a tool that made blood fly the moment it touched skin. When he had done those filthy things to Rhea’s body he must have been smiling. Now the corner of his mouth twisted as if he finally understood something had gone wrong.
“H-Hic— w-wait— just wait—”
I didn’t listen to excuses. I forced my left hand to throw the dagger. Just in case he had something hidden. Monsters always hid something strange; it was habit.
But—
“G-Ghk—!”
The kick to the groin must have hurt so badly that Loren couldn’t even bat the dagger away. It punched through his abdomen with a wet sound and clattered to the floor.
“…Rhea. Close your eyes.”
I spoke to the girl who was still watching me. Then I raised the sword high and brought it down.
Shhk—!
“G-Ghuuuh—!”
Loren was in so much pain he couldn’t even scream properly; only choked, gurgling sounds came out. I raised the sword again and cut diagonally from above, smashing into his knee. The blade was heavy enough that he toppled at once, slamming his head into the floor.
Thud—!
I threw the heavy sword aside, picked up the dagger lying in front of Loren’s head, and drove it into his back with my right hand.
“Ghhk—!”
Then I twisted it. Loren thrashed with the one remaining thigh and the other ruined leg.
“…Because of you… Sister…!”
Something like pure rage seemed to pour out of me. As I stabbed I whispered without meaning to. The truth I had suffered alone—that Sister Flora had died because of this piece of trash.
Thud—!
“What the hell did Rhea ever do wrong—”
The fact that Rhea had almost ended up in the exact same situation as Sister Flora.
“What the fuck did we… what the fuck did we ever do wrong—!”
That was what drove me insane.
Thud—! Thud—! Thud—! Thud—! Thud—!
I stabbed his back over and over. No matter how many times I drove the blade in, I didn’t have the strength to punch through bone. When Loren thrashed and twisted, I lost my balance and fell—
Blood tears streaming from his eyes, he climbed on top of me. He seemed to be trying to choke me.
“Ghk—! Khh—!”
But I didn’t let go of the dagger. As I struggled to swing it, his hand shoved toward my mouth.
Crunch—!
I bit down with everything I had. Torn flesh and blood filled my mouth. He yanked the hand free in pain, and through the opening I slashed, cutting deep into his body.
“S-Stop— ghk— s-stop—”
Loren toppled backward, body convulsing. With almost unnatural speed I scrambled up and straddled him.
I could see his face.
I could see the fear.
I could see the terror, and the hollow emptiness of a man who knew he was about to die.
“S-Spare me—”
The shameless plea was revolting beyond words. When Sister had screamed for him to stop, when Rhea had begged him to let her go—he hadn’t stopped, had he?
Thud—!
I drove the dagger into his shoulder and used my free right hand to crush his eyeball. I dug my thumb in and gouged the socket. His thrashing annoyed me, so I yanked the dagger free and stabbed again.
Thud—! Thump—! Crunch—! Thud—.
I stabbed and stabbed. Until I was covered head to toe in Loren’s blood. Without stopping, over and over, I stabbed and stabbed again.
“Hah… hah….”
Loren no longer moved. His eyes were wide open, face frozen in pain and terror. I sat astride the corpse, gasping for breath. The stench of blood was overwhelming. The pain in my shoulder hit me late; I wanted to scream, but no voice came out.
I killed him.
Finally… I killed him.
The dagger slipped from my nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor. From deeper inside the house came the sound of sobbing. At the same time I heard the pimp who had fled earlier returning with his men.
“…Th-the Count… has been… murdered.”
The Count was dead. That meant someone would eventually notice. Whether because the taxes stopped coming, or because retainers found it strange that a noble never returned to his manor and came looking.
Either way, I was destined to die now. Burned at the stake in the middle of our village, or hanged—something like that.
So nothing else mattered. In full view of everyone I deliberately drove the dagger one more time into Loren’s ruined face. Then I staggered into the place where Rhea was waiting.
“…With three people, a few extra gold coins would be more than enough to get us out of here.”
I told Rhea.
Go to the Academy.