Chapter 134. Omen of Corruption
The Ten Greats—a concept that had existed within human society for so long that its origins had grown obscure.
Though the names changed with each generation, plenty had held their seats for centuries.
The long-lived ones, like Melia, who had once belonged to a previous Hero's party.
As were those who inherited secret treasures refined over the ages.
"Brukenstein... You're telling me that bastard is really behind this?"
Brukenstein.
The alchemists' secret treasure, built up over centuries of accumulated knowledge.
The "Human Golem," created by gathering that essence, had claimed a seat among the Ten Greats in every generation, flaunting its might.
Its transcendent strength, achieved through external modification, rivaled the ancient weapons that existed only in myth.
If the other Ten Greats had built their fame primarily on personal combat, Brukenstein could be seen as a weapon of war designed from the start for conflict with the Demon King's army.
And the knowledge of manufacturing and maintaining such a human weapon was said to have been secretly passed down through a single family line for generations.
Even I, a man of the underworld, had heard the rumors.
"...Valtan Stein."
The head of the oldest noble family in the Arhen Kingdom.
His reputation was far from sterling.
On the surface, his family was known for having served humanity for ages and contributed to the advancement of alchemy—but any organization that endures too long inevitably festers from within, shackled by its own arrogance and tradition.
The Stein family could not escape that curse.
By the time the secret art of modifying humans into weapons reached the current head, Valtan Stein, it had twisted into a perverted obsession with creating the "ideal woman."
"...I'm hardly a decent human being myself, so I have no intention of criticizing someone else's vile hobby."
But to shatter a mind for the sake of a warped aesthetic—to regard that as a natural sacrifice—that disgusted me.
"Laying a hand on her crosses the line. By a mile."
If it ever became known that this deviancy had reached all the way to the Hero herself, the family would fall to ruin in an instant, and no one would be surprised.
No matter how many centuries they had served humanity, to stretch their claws toward the very hope of mankind itself...
To toy with her mind just to satisfy their own desires.
Who would not consider such a thing unforgivable?
"...So I'll set it right."
Yes. It had to be set right.
That was why I felt not a single shred of hesitation in stepping forward.
Even as I was acutely aware that I, too, was a man who could not claim freedom from such sins.
Whatever danger awaited me, I was even prepared to sacrifice this body of mine for her sake.
"Who goes there?! This area is off limits...!"
—Snap!
One by one, I seized the minds of the guards I encountered and, with their consciousness under my control, sent them on ahead of me.
They were likely proper soldiers, not the S-rank Adventurers sent as guards.
Even if they were seasoned veterans, those stationed inside a residence would have been thoroughly trained in underworld operations, whereas the S-ranks were only specialized in carrying out quests.
"Wh... what? Why are all of you grouped up like...?"
—Snap!
It was only the initial intrusion that put them on alert.
The guards I met along the way let their guard drop when they saw their comrades, and that opening let me slip into their minds.
Unless the situation was one of outright hostility, my power could suppress their minds, lull their consciousness to sleep, and reduce them to my puppets.
"You're all hired hands too, so I do feel a little bad about this. I'll just borrow your bodies until this job is finished."
"...Yes, Master."
By the time I reached the end of the mansion, dozens of soldiers had gathered around me.
Not quite enough to call an army, but the skill of each individual was easily worthy of being called elite.
Of course, hoping this would work against Brukenstein—a weapon literally called a war machine—was a stretch from the start, but my objective was never to defeat Brukenstein or its master.
Just a tiny window. An opening brief enough to divert Brukenstein's attention and pull Serika out.
After all, the enemy had committed a crime they could never make public. If I could simply rescue Serika and escape this place...
After that, all that remained was to rendezvous with the guards or the party.
"...This is the room your master entered?"
"Yes. It is."
The highest point of the mansion.
In a sense, the rooftop room connected by stairs was the most fitting place for covert dealings.
Unlike an underground chamber, where sound from the surface is blocked, any disturbance here could easily be detected from the rooftop.
That, of course, only applied if a large-scale commotion broke out.
I had succeeded in infiltrating silently by subduing enemies without a stir, but it would be foolish to expect such luck to hold.
Even if strengthened abilities now allowed me to command dozens of soldiers, the mental strain was considerable.
"Damn it. Even strengthened, it still takes a toll."
If I got greedy and tried to seize even more minds, the existing control risked breaking.
More importantly, the enemy was someone who had toyed with women using demonic power—he would have resistance. And the one guarding him was none other than a warrior who had ascended to the same rank of Ten Greats as Berdia.
Unless she, like Berdia, had been favorably disposed toward me from the start, the moment she realized her mind was being tampered with, she would charge straight at me.
Realistically, I had to abandon any plan of seizing control over both of them with my ability.
"...Even so, I have to."
And yet, I felt no hesitation about moving forward.
There were still so many words I had not been able to tell her.
To convey those words, I would have to brave any danger.
"Let's go."
I steeled my resolve and moved to place my foot on the stairs leading to the rooftop room—but only for a moment.
—Crash!!
A violent tremor rang in my ears.
At that thunderous sound, like something massive smashing into a wall, I felt my nerves reflexively sharpen.
"Wh... what...?"
The vibration came from above.
Where Serika was presumed to be.
And immediately afterward, a coppery scent spread all the way down to where I stood...
"Don't tell me..."
Yes. It could only be called the smell of blood.
Whatever had happened, a situation serious enough to draw blood had unfolded up there.
"Oh, damn it!!"
Had that wretched old bastard resorted to physical modification beyond mental domination?
No, it wasn't too late yet. If he had only just begun, there would be no real harm.
So calm down and deal with this rationally...!
—Bang!
Even that rational thought was swallowed by impatience, and my body burst through the rooftop exit and charged inside.
"Serika!!!"
I shouted her name as the cry left my lips.
Along with it, the feet that had reflexively stepped into the room came to a stop—halted by the wet, viscous sensation that greeted them.
No, it was not the sensation beneath my feet that stopped me.
It was because the scene spread out inside the room was the exact opposite of what I had predicted.
"Seri... ka...?"
Yes. The scene was drenched in blood.
As if to prove the scent of blood had been no illusion, the room was covered in it.
And the silhouette of the one presumed to have shed that blood lay buried in wreckage in the corner of the room.
The thick limbs visible among the debris made it clear that the figure's physique far exceeded that of an ordinary human.
Brukenstein.
It was the first time I had seen it with my own eyes, but the creature that bore that name lay collapsed and powerless in the corner.
"H... how...?"
I was not the only one who stared at the scene in shock.
The old man, collapsed in the corner and gaping up at the figure standing at the center of the room.
His wide eyes and trembling frame showed he was staring in disbelief at the bloodstained woman holding a sword before him.
"H... how did you stop Bruken...?"
What spilled from his mouth told the story of what had happened in a single sentence.
"Th-this makes no sense! Sh-she's the Hero, but she's only just awakened—how on earth...!!!"
Yes. Standing there was the Hero.
Serika, wearing not a single stitch of clothing and holding only a single sword, moved through the center of the blood-soaked scene.
But there was no sense of strength in her body, and no emotion could be read on her face as she glared at the terrified old man.
With the tip of her sword resting slack against the floor, she simply stared down at it through unfocused eyes.
"...Kill."
A quiet voice slipped from her mouth.
It was clear enough to be understood, but it took a moment longer to grasp the meaning it carried.
"Have to... kill."
It was far too quiet, far too numb to be called menacing...
Yet the action that followed came without the slightest hesitation.
"More..."
Dragging the sword along the floor.
"Have to... kill more..."
Serika walked past the blade's tip toward the old man before her.
"D-don't come any closer! Stay away!!"
Sensing the threat, the old man screamed and flailed his hands pathetically, but Serika paid him no mind and closed the distance, lifting both arms.
In that stance, she meant to bring the sword down and mercilessly butcher the body of the old man who had sought to violate her.
"Serika!"
That was the moment I rushed toward her.
By the time I thought I had to move, my body was already ahead of my mind, wrapping around her from behind to stop the act.
"Serika, calm down..."
But I felt no regret for that unconscious action.
Because what she was doing right now was clearly not normal.
No matter how evil the target, Serika—with her soft and gentle heart—would never have committed such an act against a fellow human in her right mind.
If this had happened despite that, then she had to be possessed by something, or her mind had broken.
"...Da...ve...?"
Only then did Serika speak my name.
The old man she had meant to cut down had soiled himself and lost consciousness—but none of that mattered now.
She recognized me.
Even without looking at my face, she recognized my presence from my voice, from my warmth, and was trying to turn toward me.
"...Yeah. It's me. Dave."
Facing Serika, I quietly smiled.
It was a smile born of pure relief. Because, whatever the reason, I had confirmed she was safe.
Even if the sword in her hand had not yet fallen, I was prepared to accept anything she did next.
Whatever awaited, whatever feelings she held.
I knew in my bones that accepting all of it was my karma.
"Where... were you...?"
But the woman who had recognized me—even me, who had braced for that—let the strength drain from the hand holding the sword and reached out toward me instead.
"I..."
With empty hands, she clutched at my clothes.
Buried her face in my chest.
"All this time... I've been... searching for you..."
And then, held in my arms, she whispered—and began to let her body go limp, entrusting her entire weight to me.
The moment her consciousness faded, in the wake of those incomprehensible murmurs.
But after that, a silence descended upon the blood-drenched scene as if by a spell.
A profound silence, so deep one could scarcely believe slaughter had occurred here moments before.