Chapter 16
Chapter 16
The Executioner of Rondor (3)
I’ve lost my mind.
-Clatter.
Dropping my spoon into the wooden bowl, I let out a sigh.
Even though it was still morning, I had probably sighed several hundred times already.
It was because of what happened yesterday.
“Haa...”
I got swept up in my emotions and made a ridiculous proposal.
Even I don’t know what came over me.
I volunteered to become Vivian’s executioner.
Which meant I might soon kill someone.
Just imagining it made my heart pound.
I didn’t want to kill anyone. It felt unsettling.
This was probably the same feeling Vivian had whenever she failed to stamp the execution papers.
But seeing her ignored by her own knights, then seeing her crying because of it, I couldn’t just stand there doing nothing.
I had already provoked her competitive spirit so she wouldn’t cry anymore, yet she ended up crying again because of some knight bastard, and it irritated me.
That was why I made such an emotional proposal.
She looked too unstable all alone, so I told her we could kill the condemned prisoners together.
“Haa...”
I thought I wouldn’t kill anyone until after becoming head of my family.
At minimum, I expected it would happen after turning eighteen.
But reality had other plans.
In some distant foreign land, at fourteen... no, almost fifteen now, I was about to do it at fifteen instead.
All because of Vivian.
What was so pitiful about her that it drove me this far?
I couldn’t even understand my own heart anymore, which only made everything more complicated.
Thinking about what she had done to me made me want to hate the sight of her, yet I kept taking care of her anyway.
Would I keep acting like this for as long as I stayed in this land?
I sincerely hoped not.
I hoped someday something would happen that would finally kill whatever attachment I’d developed.
Letting out another sigh, I picked my spoon back up.
For now, I tried setting aside my worries and filling my stomach first.
-Bang!
The table suddenly shook.
Three boys sat down around me at the previously empty table.
Three faces now far too familiar.
At this rate, seeing them day and night, I felt like I’d remember their faces better than my younger siblings’.
Balon, Willas, and Martin.
Even after sitting around me, the three said nothing.
They simply glared at me murderously, trying to create pressure.
After sighing yet again, I pleaded,
“...It’s morning. Can we at least eat first before whatever this is?”
Contrary to my expectation, none of them reacted.
The strange atmosphere froze even my hand halfway through scooping food into my mouth.
Rolling my eyes around suspiciously, I asked,
“...What?”
The three exchanged glances with each other.
It looked like they were pushing some responsibility onto one another.
“Ahem.”
In the end, fat Balon cleared his throat and spoke first.
“That thing you said yesterday.”
“...?”
When I frowned in confusion, Balon grimaced and leaned even closer toward me.
“Hah, the thing about trying an axe.”
“So?”
“...Were you serious?”
Awkward silence settled over the table.
I looked between the three of them, half expecting some kind of prank to suddenly jump out.
But nothing happened.
They were genuinely waiting for my answer.
“...”
Was I serious?
I should’ve been asking whether they were serious.
What exactly was this?
Unable to understand at all, I asked them back,
“What’s your angle here?”
Balon immediately turned toward his friends as though that settled everything.
“Hah, see? No way this bastard was serious. I told you we shouldn’t bother.”
Willas stopped Balon before he could stand up.
“You’re giving up already? Sit down.”
This time Willas cleared his throat and asked.
Compared to Balon, his attitude was gentler.
“No, after the spar yesterday. What you said. Telling Balon to use an axe and me to loosen up my swings. What was that? Were you serious or just messing with us? Were you actually giving advice?”
“...”
When I continued staring at them suspiciously in silence, Willas nervously added an explanation.
“How else are we supposed to take it? Your tone sounded serious, but the advice itself was ridiculous. What do you mean don’t put strength into my swings? If you hit harder, doesn’t that make it hurt more?”
I almost ignored them entirely, but the stupidity of the question made it difficult not to answer.
“...You only need to swing hard with wooden swords because they’re blunt. With real swords, the weight cuts through people anyway, so why force it?”
“Oh... really?”
“And because you keep trying to swing hard, your movements become huge. Anyone can see your next attack coming. Who would ever get hit by that?”
“So you were dodging because you saw my attacks? I thought I was fast enough...”
“...And every time you miss, you stagger around afterward. I’ve never seen an idiot as stupid as you.”
Instead of getting offended by my sarcasm, Willas smiled in admiration.
“See? I told you he was seriously giving advice.”
Balon’s expression softened a little.
Stuttering like Vivian, he asked,
“Th-Then should I really try using an axe? W-Were you seriously advising me?”
“...If you’re going to swing a sword like an axe anyway, you might as well just use an axe.”
“Actually, axes do feel more natural to me. My dad was a carpenter. I used to help him sometimes.”
I looked Balon up and down.
I genuinely had no idea what went on inside his head.
“If you already know how to use an axe, why are you carrying a sword?”
“Isn’t a sword stronger?”
“...Forget it. Talking to you is pointless.”
Martin, covered in acne, suddenly joined in too.
“Hey, Kylo Allen. You didn’t say anything to me. Don’t I get advice too?”
“You... sigh, forget it.”
“Ah, why?!”
-Clatter!
I dropped my spoon back into the bowl and stared at them.
Only then did they seem to remember the original state of our relationship, blinking awkwardly.
“Why are you guys suddenly acting like this?”
I asked.
Balon pushed greasy hair back with his dirty fingers and answered,
“...Shouldn’t we be asking you that? You’re the one who started giving advice yesterday.”
“You looked ridiculous, so I gave advice.”
“Wasn’t that your way of offering peace?”
“...Peace? You three were beating me like you wanted me dead not long ago.”
“You beat us like you wanted us dead too. That cancels out.”
“And now you’re not going to try beating me again?”
“Unless we’re idiots, why would we pull that shit again after seeing what happens? We’re not confident we could handle the revenge.”
I kept glaring at them suspiciously.
It felt like they definitely had some kind of ulterior motive, but I couldn’t figure it out.
They spent months grumbling about avenging their fathers killed by my family, and now suddenly they wanted peace?
Especially after all the fighting over the past few months, this felt absurd.
Was one little piece of advice yesterday really enough to fix everything?
Maybe sensing my suspicion, Balon spoke honestly.
“Let me say one thing clearly.”
“...?”
“...I don’t actually hate you that much.”
His confession was so ridiculous I almost laughed.
“Then why the hell did you beat me? Do you know one of my molars fell out?”
“You looked fun to beat up. When else are we ever gonna punch a noble bastard?”
There wasn’t even a trace of regret in Balon’s voice.
Willas and Martin nodded along in agreement.
It was ridiculous, but strangely enough, I preferred how bluntly honest they were being.
I asked them,
“What about avenging your fathers?”
Willas snorted.
“That was bullshit. I hated my father.”
“...”
“If anything, I was glad he died. He beat my mother all the time and bullied my younger siblings. Before the war he spent every day drunk too. And he died not long after the war started. It’s been almost six years anyway, so honestly I barely remember him.”
I looked toward Martin and Balon.
They reacted similarly.
“There aren’t many people in the Punishment Corps who actually liked their parents. Otherwise why do you think we all ended up committing crimes?”
“We just needed an excuse to beat you. Some people here are orphans. They probably don’t even know who you are.”
Maybe because they thought revealing the truth fixed things between us, Willas suddenly slung an arm around my shoulder like we were friends.
I shoved his arm away and said,
“You stink, so don’t touch me.”
Embarrassed, Willas’s face reddened slightly, though he tried acting casual.
“Nobles really are different, huh? So, should we make peace?”
“When else are we gonna get a noble friend?” Martin added.
-Thud.
I stood up from the table.
Balon, Willas, and Martin exchanged uncertain glances.
But honestly, my thoughts were still too complicated.
It felt like they’d already sorted out their feelings and come looking for me afterward, while for me this all happened too suddenly.
“...”
Still, I had started growing tired of constantly fighting them too.
Vergor’s advice kept echoing in my head as well.
Just yesterday, Vivian told me I’d rot in this land forever.
If I truly had to stay here that long, I couldn’t keep living like this every day.
Wars only lasted a few years, and actual battles happened on only a handful of days.
But I had to stay here for years, fighting every single day.
There was no way not to grow exhausted.
Even sleeping deeply was impossible because I stayed alert constantly.
And they seemed just as exhausted too.
“...Haa.”
That didn’t mean I suddenly wanted to shake hands and laugh happily with them either.
I needed time.
Time to figure out whether they were sincere or not.
So in the end, I left without either accepting or rejecting their offer.
Balon, Willas, and Martin simply watched my back as I walked away.
Several days passed.
Late at night, Vivian sat at her desk.
The candlelight flickered weakly, dimly illuminating the room.
Breathing deeply, Vivian stared at the execution order before her while holding the seal in her hand.
Death.
To Vivian, it was still a heavy word.
Having lost every person she loved to death, its weight felt especially crushing.
Once she crossed this line, there would be no turning back.
Just as her dead family would never return.
Would she now become someone who stole away another person precious to someone else?
What if one of the condemned prisoners was innocent?
Was it really alright for her to end someone’s life with her own hands?
Those doubts kept consuming her.
“But even if I’m scared, I still have to do it. Otherwise the adults will keep looking down on me.”
“...”
Vivian repeated those words silently to herself.
Even after time passed, the voice remained vivid.
Taking a deep breath, she held the sealing wax over the candle flame.
Once the wax softened and melted, Vivian slowly dripped it onto the document.
Now she had to stamp it before the wax hardened.
But just like before, her arm began trembling violently.
“Haa... haa...”
Someone would die because of this.
With this one act, she would take a life.
Until the day she died, that truth would never change.
She would become someone who killed people.
-Shake shake...
Like her stuttering speech, Vivian’s hand continued trembling.
She had resolved herself over a hundred times to press the seal down onto the wax, yet her hand refused to move.
As though being pushed and pulled, it kept wavering helplessly in the air.
“I’ll become the executioner.”
Then Kylo Allen’s voice echoed in her mind.
He had said it with such a calm expression.
“Then we’d both be killing them together.”
Even Vivian herself felt confused by how much strength those words gave her.
Gradually, the trembling in her hands subsided.
She wasn’t alone.
They would do it together.
Those words magically cut her guilt in half.
“Hoo...”
Vivian steadied herself.
-Push...
Then she pressed the seal firmly into the wax.
The sun of Rondor was stamped onto the execution order.