Chapter 57
The Flower That Bears a Sword - Chapter 57
Translation: godsn
She couldn't imagine a Yurien who didn't hate the Demon of the Magic Sword.
The dream she'd had days ago resurfaced. A laughing corpse. The corpse that mocked her, asking how she dared to love it. Emotions flooded over, surging beyond the walls of reason until the waves reached her fingertips. The hand resting on Amethyst trembled. Half out of her mind, she drew the sword.
The moment she pointed it toward Yurien, she realized another problem.
The blade aimed straight at his chest. Beyond the lifeless metal stood a pale man. She was holding an object created to cut down people, now pointing it directly at him.
Sword. Pale man. Spreading crimson blood. Death. The fountain's edge, the mountain of corpses, the man she killed, unseeing eyes. Nightmarish memories all rushing back at once.
Her heart pounded in terror as if having a seizure. Her breathing grew rapid. Color drained from her face in an instant. The tip of the blade shook uncontrollably. Tears welled up, blurring Yurien's form beyond the trembling steel.
[Hey, what's wrong with you?]
Valdergiosa, the Magic Sword. Bloodlust. Malice. The things that had stained and controlled her body. The moment she heard the sword's voice, she felt a viscous sensation coiling around her fingertips like tangible bloodlust. Visions of darkness creeping in. Echinacea shuddered violently and threw down the sword she'd been holding. She clamped a hand over her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Then she staggered back.
"Echinacea?"
Yurien, noticing her distress, approached in alarm. Eki retreated with each step he took. Seeing this, he stopped advancing. His face had gone as pale as hers, unable to bring himself to come closer as he watched her carefully.
"Echinacea."
A pleading, anguished voice. She had no mind left to decipher what lay beneath that call. Eki shook her head wildly and retreated further. She saw Yurien grit his teeth. Just as he was about to speak—
Both Eki and Yurien turned their heads simultaneously. From the darkness of the valley below, crimson lights began rising one by two like the glowing eyes of beasts. Howling shouts, rough footsteps, and amidst the clamor, a fierce command rose like a banner:
"The witch! Bring out the witch!"
Yurien lowered his stance and moved toward the valley. Eki picked up Amethyst, which she'd thrown aside earlier, quickly wiping away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Though her heart still raced madly and her sword hand still trembled, her face had regained its composure.
Had she been someone who froze when emotions overwhelmed her, Echinacea would have been devoured by the Magic Sword long before getting this second chance at life. She quickly pulled herself together. Steadying her breath, she gripped Amethyst and advanced toward the valley.
The atmosphere below was nearing collective hysteria. A dozen torch-bearing villagers. Among the large adults lay a small child. A noose of rough rope around the child's neck pulled taut like a leash. Long, ashen hair—unkempt like an animal's fur, never properly cared for—swayed limply. An old man behind the child kicked at them while screaming:
"You damned thing! You killed my son!"
"What have you done to our village!"
"That little witch! You ate your own mother too, didn't you?"
"Bring the oil, the oil! Witches only die completely when burned!"
The apparent ringleader waved his torch excitedly, his voice trembling with fervor. In the flickering crimson light, the scattered faces revealed were all contorted like demons. Several men carried wooden barrels and began splashing oil liberally over the dilapidated shelter. The ringleader grabbed the child by the collar with one hand and lifted them up.
Having assessed the entire situation, Yurien adjusted his grip on the Holy Sword. He spoke rapidly:
"Echinacea, that child must be the Giosa Owner. I'll handle the villagers—can I entrust the child to you?"
"Yes, Lord."
Eki answered curtly. He didn't even glance back at her. Though he'd clearly seen her shaken state moments ago, he didn't bother verifying her condition now. As long as she said she'd do it, he seemed to consider doubt unnecessary.
He leaped down into the ravine, stepping on protruding rocks and tree roots with near-falling speed. Eki followed close behind, her ivory dress fluttering through the darkness.
Meanwhile, the ringleader threw the oil-drenched child into the shelter's interior. He slammed the door shut and began dragging barrels and rocks to barricade it, preventing escape. Their intent was clear—to burn the shelter with the child inside.
[How delightful! Such intense emotions!]
The magic sword hummed with pleasure. Valdergiosa would indeed revel in the overwhelming malice and bloodlust saturating the ravine. Eki frowned. The trembling in her hands had completely ceased, though her heart now raced for different reasons. Even if that child weren't the Giosa Owner, she had no intention of watching a child burn alive before her eyes. Her urgency grew.
Yurien reached the bottom first. One man was bringing his torch dangerously close to the oil-soaked shelter. Without hesitation, Yurien hurled Langiosa. The Holy Sword cleanly severed the torch's flaming head mid-flight before embedding itself in the ground.
"Gahk!"
The man collapsed in shock, clutching the now-headless torch. As the crowd turned toward the sword's origin, their faces paled seeing the white-clad figure emerging from darkness.
"W-what the—?"
"Where'd that sword come from...?"
When Yurien stepped into view wearing his white uniform, they looked as if they'd seen a ghost. Though these ignorant villagers couldn't recognize the Azure Sky Knights' insignia, his bearing alone marked him as extraordinary. Nervous murmurs spread through the crowd.
"W-who...?"
Yurien advanced toward them with deliberate, unhurried steps. His calm demeanor exerted crushing pressure, frosting the air with tension. His glacial gaze swept across them, making each person flinch and lower their eyes when met.
Though outnumbered ten to one, the villagers instinctively parted before him as he passed. An icy silence smothered their earlier frenzy. He leisurely retrieved Langiosa from the ground, then turned his back to the shelter to gaze down at the cowering ringleader.
The man appeared to be in his forties. Though Yurien merely held his sword at rest without pointing it, the man acted as if steel already pressed against his neck. Yurien's dry tone cut through the silence:
"Which village do you hail from?"
"W-who... who are you?"
"I am the Azure Sky Knights Commander. I asked which village you belong to."
"Az-Azure Sky...?"
The dazed echo quickly turned to uneasy stirrings, then outright shock. Even these ignorant folk knew of the Azure Sky Knights' reputation, despite failing to recognize their insignia. Ignoring the growing commotion, Yurien fixed the ringleader with a steady gaze and spoke quietly.
"Don't make me ask a third time."
The weight of his downward gaze was palpable. The ringleader gulped audibly before barely managing to stammer out a response.
"W-we're from... from Goth Village. It's north of here..."
While Yurien dealt with the villagers, Eki was busy breaking the shelter's window. Without using Sword Energy, forcing open the door blocked by rocks and wooden barrels would have been too difficult—shattering the window was faster. The Amethyst came down hard on the wooden shutter, now thoroughly smeared with oil.
She swiftly cleared away the broken shutter and leapt inside. Complete darkness enveloped the interior. Flickering torchlight from outside seeped in through the shattered window, casting wavering shadows. By that faint illumination, Eki surveyed the space. A child huddled in the corner, arms wrapped tightly around their head. Their curled-up form looked heartbreakingly small.
Deliberately making no attempt to conceal her approach, Eki moved toward the child. With each click of her heels against the floor, the child's shoulders flinched violently. Around their slender neck still hung a noose fashioned from rope.
Eki wasn't skilled at handling children. She'd grown accustomed to a sword that behaved like a child, but that wasn't the same as a real one. Still, she knew better than to roughly drag out a terrified child who'd nearly been burned alive moments ago. Forcing them out would only traumatize the already fear-stricken little one further. With Yurien outside, there was no danger of the shelter catching fire now.
First, she needed to calm the child. Kneeling before them, she let her dress skirts touch the oil-stained floor without concern. She modulated her voice to its softest timbre.
"It's alright. I won't hurt you."
The child trembled violently, pressing back against the wall as if trying to burrow through it. Their fingers scraped desperately against the surface, leaving smears of blood. Clearly beyond rational thought from terror—Eki wasn't even sure they could comprehend words anymore.
After a moment's hesitation, she slowly extended her hand. Her lace-gloved fingers brushed against the child's filthy, wounded foot. The tiny toes curled inward reflexively. Cornered as they were, there was nowhere left to retreat, no way to hide. The child's entire body shook like a leaf. A muffled whimper escaped, as if they were struggling not to cry.
"I came to save you," Eki whispered, gently cupping the small foot in her hand. Like a bird sheltering an egg beneath its wing, she enveloped the bare, parched skin. Through the thin gloves, her body warmth transferred to the child. Maintaining that contact, she spoke carefully.
"My name is Echinacea Roaz—you can call me Eki. Or just 'big sister' if you prefer. What's your name?"
At this, the child peeked out slightly from between their arms, which still shielded their head defensively. Between the thin forearms, enormous gray eyes peered out—dull and hollow.
'Gray hair... gray eyes... They're from the Sol tribe.'
The Sol—a landless people wandering the entire continent. Nomads without permanent settlements who survived through divination, entertainment, music, and peddling sundry goods. As rootless outsiders, they faced easy ostracization, denied protection and frequently targeted for discrimination and crimes.
The general situation became clear. Something bad must have happened in that village, and this Sol child had been scapegoated as the culprit. The details would require investigation, but the broad strokes were obvious. To call this child—who should have been worthy of wielding Elgiosa, a sword that could only be used by those who'd never once hated others—a "witch" was utterly outrageous.
"Will you tell me your name?" Eki asked again, meeting those wide gray eyes.