A House of One's Own
There was a fairly common rumor that knights kept knowledge at arm’s length in order to cast off fear.
The logic ran that too much knowledge made a man think too many thoughts on the battlefield and thus turned him into a coward…
“You dick-swinging bastards are gonna piss yourselves over one girl?!”
“Surround her! One good stab and we’ve won!”
“Kill her!”
Dantalion found himself realizing the logic was not entirely wrong after all. Without the eyes to recognize Yoanna’s skill, how else could they be so brave?
The criminals drew their hidden weapons and charged with a roar.
Armed with little more than rusty daggers and woodcutter’s hand axes, their level was plain enough to see.
Charging without regard for weapon length or spacing… what a mess.
What else could one expect from parasites who only sucked the lifeblood of the city?
The lead man, flushed with excitement, raised a two-handed axe high overhead. Brought down from that height, the blow would have packed real force.
Shhk!
“Gah?!”
But Yoanna was faster.
She shot forward like an arrow and swept her blade across the man’s fully exposed arm.
The edge parted skin and severed the taut tendons beneath; the axe clattered uselessly to the floor.
Thud!
“Ghk?!”
Without losing speed, Yoanna dropped her stance and drove her shoulder into his gut.
She hoisted the lead man up and turned him into a living meat shield. With both arm tendons cut, he could do nothing but thrash helplessly.
The man who had so boldly taken the front called out to his comrades for help.
“S-save me!!!”
Thuk!
But what could one hope for from a pack that shared no real bond?
His fellows acted as though they had not heard him at all and drove their blades into his back.
Reverse-gripped daggers and a pitchfork punched through, ripping heart and lungs and spraying blood. By the time Yoanna had carried him halfway through the group, the man was a ragged ruin no longer recognizable as human.
“Shit, that fat bastard won’t stop moving!”
“Stupid bitch, you think one meat shield’s gonna let you punch through us?!”
There was no mourning for their comrade. Instead the criminals smirked, convinced they had blocked her attempt to break out with the shield.
Having fully surrounded her, they judged the fight theirs and began to tighten the noose…
Thud.
Yoanna flung the corpse to the floor and raised her blood-slicked sword horizontally.
A short breath left her lips. Flame bloomed along the blade, pouring out searing heat.
Instinctive revulsion toward fire made the criminals flinch. It was not a wise choice.
The moment they chose attack over flight, their fate was sealed.
The heat haze vanished, revealing a blade dyed completely scarlet.
In the ruined church, the light of dawn that banishes the dark of night shone from the tip of a young girl’s sword.
“Oh, fuck…”
In that instant, someone muttered, and trails of light carved themselves across the criminals’ bodies.
Bone, flesh, and skin parted; the men tumbled to the floor. In place of blood and screams, black smoke rose to soothe the souls of the dead.
Confirming no living enemies remained, Yoanna sheathed her sword. Dantalion stroked her head in praise of that fine work.
“To grow this much in so short a time—excellent.”
“Lord Dantalion trusted me and granted me power, so this much is only natural.”
Yoanna answered with modest humility, as though it were nothing special. The clenched fist she could not quite hide, however, betrayed her joy.
After a brief round of head-patting, she asked,
“Is that the last of the criminals you found, Lord Dantalion?”
“There are still more hiding.”
“What? That can’t be…”
The unexpected answer left Yoanna flustered. Her sixth sense, it seemed, was not yet developed enough to locate the concealed sinners.
Fortunately, a suitable ability she could use came to mind.
“There is one thing even those who erase their presence can never erase. Focus my power—yes, my holy power—toward your eyes.”
It was the power of Hell, yet if faith could strengthen it, then it too could be called holy power.
Yoanna nodded and opened the power, concentrating it into her eyes. Naturally she could not do it perfectly at first, so Dantalion assisted so she could focus.
A moment later, the silhouette of the sinner hiding in the church basement etched itself onto her pupils.
Yoanna concentrated so she would not forget the sensation and murmured,
“This one… feels even more unpleasant than the ones just now.”
“My power exists to judge and punish sin. The revulsion you feel toward him is because of that.”
It was the power the Creator had granted so that sinners might be judged and punished.
Even a share of that power was enough to affect an ordinary human strongly.
I myself have hated criminals since my previous life, so I never noticed much change…
Dantalion felt a fresh pang of guilt.
Had she not been chosen by him, another path might have opened for Yoanna.
After a short silence he asked,
“Do you regret it? From now on you will feel that unpleasantness every time you meet the immoral.”
“Heh. Lord Dantalion, you really are too kind.”
At his question Yoanna smiled without meaning to. Among the countless gods, how many ever considered the feelings of mortals?
“Even if I had escaped that hell by my own strength, things would not be so different from now.”
“Is that so…”
“Yes. That’s how it is.”
If she herself thought so, there was nothing more to ask.
Smiling, Yoanna strode through the church, her footsteps ringing on the solid floor…
Thump-thump!
“Found him.”
“Then I’ll go down right away.”
At the hollow sound of empty barrels being struck, Yoanna drew her sword.
In an instant she shattered the floor and entrusted her body to gravity, dropping into the basement.
Boom!
“Wh-what?!”
“Damn… they already knew about the basement!”
Men surrounding a skinny figure drew their swords and warily eyed Yoanna.
Five of them, properly armed with longswords and chain mail. They did not feel like they had received real training, yet they were a cut above the street thugs she had met above ground.
Among them, the one-eyed man who appeared to be the leader spoke to the skinny fellow.
“Maron, the vibe I’m getting says this isn’t some ordinary bitch…”
“Eric, you damn mercenary, haggling even now? Fine—I’ll pay double the usual guard fee, so kill that girl right now!”
“Now those are words that put strength in a man’s arm.”
Eric’s lips curled as he and the remaining mercenaries surrounded Yoanna.
Holding the center of the encirclement, Eric approached her slowly, checking his blade. The poison he had coated it with from the scabbard was properly applied.
Even if her skill is trash, she wiped out nearly twenty men alone. Probably… some squire whose head got turned by glory-hunting.
A mercenary challenging a knight’s squire was madness. But if it was not a fair contest of strength, they could still handle her.
“Isn’t it underhanded for five of you to jump one girl?”
“Miss, what’s underhanded on a battlefield?”
Eric, who had hidden blinding poison behind his fingers, signaled his men with a glance. Overwhelming strength meant nothing once the eyes were gone.
It was a tactic that worked every time against greenhorns who insisted on fighting fair and square with raw power.
“Here she comes!”
Yoanna kicked off the floor and closed the distance in a flash.
Eric reflexively reached out. If all five flung the powder together, she could never escape unscathed!
Clatter-clatter!
“Huh?”
At that moment the mercenaries’ arms were yanked not forward but toward the floor.
Completely unexpected, Eric’s gaze snapped to his own arm.
Chains that had burst up through the floor were wrapped tightly around it. Startled by the silent appearance of the chains, Eric shouted on instinct.
“You cowardly—!”
“You said nothing’s underhanded on a battlefield?”
Yoanna’s sword flashed and took Eric’s head.
The leaderless mercenaries screamed and swung their blades at the chains.
But the chains did not break. Confirming they were bound fast, the mercenaries all had the same thought.
To run, we’ll have to cut off our own arms!
In that instant of hesitation, their fates were decided.
“Gahk?!”
Leaving an unbroken trail of light, Yoanna’s blade severed the mercenaries’ necks.
They collapsed, thrashing and pouring blood. After watching a moment, Yoanna approached Maron.
His face deathly pale, Maron fell backward and scrambled across the floor.
“W-wait! Do you have any idea what will happen to this city if you kill me?!”
Yoanna was neither curious nor inclined to stop even if she heard. So that the other criminals would not feel left out, she cut Maron’s throat as well.
With him gone, the rotten stench that had filled the church vanished completely.
Dantalion and Yoanna drew deep breaths of the heavy earthy air.
“Clearing out the trash makes the air feel cleaner.”
“Mm. That freshness is one of the few rewards. Search his corpse and you should find items that hold proof of his evil deeds.”
Every object carried indelible records. Acts that left karmic weight, like evil deeds, were especially vivid.
Yoanna examined the body, collected a purse heavy with gold coins and a notebook, then returned to the surface.
Just then, flickering torchlight appeared through the windows.
“Over there! Screams came from that church!”
“Ugh… what kind of bastards start a brawl in a church? Looking to get smote and die?”
“Was the squad leader always this devout?”
“I got dragged out of a good sleep—you expect sweet words? The door’s already wrecked, so let’s just go in.”
Apparently answering a report, the city guard was approaching the church at a leisurely pace.
Yoanna, face hidden by her hood, slipped out through the church’s back door. A short while later, startled screams rose from inside the building.
“We should head back, right?”
“Yes. Emily will be fretting, so best to return quickly.”
The cleanup could be left to the guards.
Yoanna melted into the shadows of the buildings.
The next day, as though the previous night’s slaughter had been a dream, Yoanna greeted the morning in perfect calm.
After inhaling the dishes that filled the table and finishing her grooming, she went to find Emily.
“Miss Yoanna, today you’re meeting Mr. Victor, right?”
“Yes. It’s about time we found a house.”
As though she had expected the visit, Emily packed her things.
She gathered a rather thick book, ink, and a quill, then stuck close to Yoanna like a secretary.
Perched on Yoanna’s shoulder, Dantalion asked with mild curiosity,
“Did you train Emily somehow? She seems… rather tightly disciplined.”
“Heh, who knows? I didn’t do anything bad, though.”
“Hmm…”
A young girl having a secret or two was hardly strange.
Letting it go, Dantalion accompanied Yoanna to the realtor’s office.
The office was a rather fine brick building…
“Ohhh! Miss Yoanna and Miss Emily! I was planning to see you this afternoon, but I’m truly grateful you’ve come in person.”
A middle-aged man with an impressively solid belly spotted them and hurried over.
Apparently acquainted, Yoanna smiled and greeted him.
“Heh, it’s fine. You’re busy too, Mr. Victor—I couldn’t make you go out of your way.”
“Oh my… thanks to you, Miss Yoanna, my wife and I mended our relationship. Going out of my way? Of course I should be the one calling on you.”
So that was it—she had been helping people and earning goodwill all this time?
Relieved that she had built connections in a healthier way than expected, Dantalion felt a weight lift.
After serving tea, Victor set everything aside and stepped out onto the street with Yoanna.
“I originally planned to show you a different property, but this morning a rather fine one suddenly became available.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. The owner has vanished, so the city is offering the building at a very low price. A few repairs and it will be as good as new.”
The realtor thumped his chest as though disappointment were impossible.
They set off with high expectations…
“Here! Being a church it’s spacious, and there’s plenty of living space! We’re not sure why the door and floor collapsed, but don’t worry too much. We’ll find someone to repair the building right away.”
“……”
It was the very church where they had wiped out Maron’s gang the night before.
Could this, too, be a kind of fate?
Yoanna and Dantalion instinctively averted their eyes from the realtor’s gaze.
Well… they had all fallen to Hell, so no ghosts would come popping out.
That much, as a demon, he could guarantee.