The Red Devil Who Cradled a Star (3)

The middle-aged man called a few workers over, and they began hauling the barred cart in which she was kept.

Rattle— rattle—

Was it time already?

After days of travel, it seemed the next stop on their itinerary had been decided.

The girl clutched her clothing with hands too weak to hold even that. It was something she had endured countless times, yet no amount of repetition ever made it easier to bear.

In time, her cage—shrouded beneath a heavy cloth—was carried somewhere high and vast.

"Kill it!!"

"Long live the Empire! Long live His Imperial Majesty!!"

"Death to the filthy demon!"

"They say the people that demon ate could fill several cities over!"

"Ugh... truly a horrifying species."

"Red skin, and those eyes—how wicked can you get?"

"Don't even start. Apparently it's not yet fully grown—that's the only reason they managed to capture it alive."

"Avenge my son, demon! I demand justice!"

Malice beyond counting seeped through the thick cloth. Naked, undisguised hatred, wringing her lungs dry as if being twisted in a fist.

Then the cloth was drawn back, and blinding sunlight flooded the cage. The girl squinted against the sudden brightness. But before her eyes could even adjust, the crowd's venomous jeers came pouring down like a hail of knives.

"Kill it now!"

"It's a demon!! A demon!"

"Purge the demon!"

"Long live the Empire!"

"Waaahhh!"

Presently the middle-aged man who managed her roused the crowd into a frenzy and began lashing his whip against the iron bars of her cage, again and again. Startled, her skin flushed a deep crimson. For a moment a hush fell over the crowd at the sight of the girl—a girl who looked every inch the demon they had named her.

By the time she had grown used to the blinding light, stones and rotten eggs were already flying toward her.

Thud— crack—

Blood began to stream down her whole body, and her skin glittered with a red so vivid it was nearly fluorescent.

"It really is a demon!"

"Kyaaagh!"

"Demons actually exist!!"

"Die, demon!!"

"Bring my son back to life!"

"The Empire supposedly suffered terrible losses to end its war with the demons."

"Now I understand. Just one look sends shivers down your spine."

It was then that the middle-aged man's bellow drilled into her ears.

"The final ritual will be held tomorrow, so we'll wrap things up for today!!"

The word final struck her as strange. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

She could escape this road through hell? Her gaze flickered and trembled.

But once she was taken down from the stage—the execution platform in all but name—the middle-aged man's sneering words told her what it really meant.

"This tedious little show is finally over, eh? Tomorrow you'll give your last performance in the capital's central plaza, and then climb the gallows."

Her jaw dropped.

Was she glad that this road through hell, running longer than a decade, was finally at its end? Or did she cling to even a life like this, regretful to let it go?

She pressed a hand to her chest and breathed deep.

Right. Hadn't she always known she might die? More than ten years, touring every corner of the Empire as a living scapegoat for the public's fury. It could have ended at any time, and nothing about that would have been strange.

'More than my own life...'

It was only her tribe—the people she had sheltered in her heart and fought to protect—that worried her now.

She wanted to ask what would become of her tribespeople once she mounted the gallows, but the middle-aged man knew nothing of it.

It was a secret arrangement between her and an Imperial knight—something she could never ask the man about.

Fortunately, that very night, as she was forcing down her turmoil, a visitor arrived. The Imperial knight with whom she had bargained her safety and that of her tribe.

The middle-aged man bowed and scraped before the knight.

"To what do we owe the honor of a knight's presence in this humble place...?"

The knight wore full Imperial plate, though the Imperial crest on his shoulder was hidden beneath a length of red cloth. In other words, this visit was unofficial.

Even so, the middle-aged man dared not utter a sound. A knight was little more than a slaughter-weapon licensed to kill by the Empire. Merely being a knight earned one treatment equivalent to that of a minor noble.

This Imperial knight before him was a man who could take the middle-aged commoner's head for no greater offense than finding him annoying.

Beneath beautiful golden hair, a pair of blue eyes turned toward the middle-aged man.

A vacant stare. The machine-like gaze of countless massacres.

The middle-aged man swallowed hard and willed himself not to move a muscle.

"You're not to come looking tonight. I have words to speak with this demon girl."

"Y-yes, of course. Naturally. Then tomorrow, when might you...?"

The knight swept his blue eyes slowly up and down the man.

The middle-aged man flinched and hastened to speak.

"Y-yes, yes. I'll keep out of the way. My apologies."

He all but fled from the room.

Only then did the grimness drain from the knight's eyes.

"I hear that man has been tormenting you fairly often."

"It's all for show. Nothing more than noise."

"Is that so?"

"..."

"Well. I imagine you have other questions on your mind."

"..."

The girl dreaded what might come out of the knight's mouth next. Fortunately, the words she feared never came.

"Your tribespeople are safe. Though I'm afraid scattering them to the winds was unavoidable."

"I... is that so?"

"...It is."

Emotion surged up in her throat, but she held back the tears. The knight's words were not yet finished.

"I tried to have you smuggled out separately, but that much was beyond even me. And tomorrow, you'll be led to your execution."

"..."

"I'm sorry. And... you've suffered long enough."

The girl gave a slow nod.

Beneath the moonlight, knight and girl fell ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into their own separate silences, each lost in thought.

And in a corner some distance away from them both—

Something was watching them, eyes gleaming.

Click.

Neither the knight nor the girl noticed a thing.

Day broke. Thanks to the Imperial knight's ferocious warning, the girl had passed her final night untroubled and unharmed.

She also posted her last message to the community.

She hadn't wanted to drag it out with a long, rambling farewell. Still, it was honest to say she'd wanted at least a brief goodbye before she went.

The girl had slept soundly, and thanks to the knight's consideration, she had even eaten a proper, delicious meal. Her only regret was a small sorrow: that on her final road, she would leave without seeing her family's faces one last time.

But what came next was never something she had wished for.

"Wh-why are you...!"

"Kill it! Kill it!"

"Purge the demon!!"

"WAAAAH!!"

"Kill it!"

As the killing intent of thousands in the crowd poured down on her alone, a single silhouette seared itself into the girl's eyes.

"M-Mother?"

The figure was wrapped head to toe in a thick robe, but how could she ever forget her?

Spotting her mother from atop the towering scaffold, the girl felt ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her heart plummet.

Why is Mother here?

No. No!

Amid the hail of thrown stones and curses, her mother was struggling, shoving her way closer, step by step.

Battered and trampled, knocked to the ground again and again—still her mother's eyes never wavered from her daughter.

Why is Mother here of all places...!

Her mother's blood ran thin; apart from the day her father died, her skin had never once changed color. If only she were careful, she could have lived out her days undetected among the Imperials.

And yet.

Her mother's skin had turned red—red enough to catch the eye even here. Despite the thick robe she had thrown over herself, it was plain to the girl's eyes.

You mustn't come here! If they find out— please, no!

"My baby!! My daughter!"

Tears streaming, her mother cried out in a ragged voice.

"My baby! Mommy's here!"

"God, what the hell?"

"Is that woman insane?"

The crowd's tempers flared at the woman relentlessly shoving her way through.

Thud—

Struck by a flailing elbow, trampled underfoot, knocked off her feet by a collision of shoulders—

Still her mother came, without pause, toward her daughter.

"My darling girl, you've suffered so much, haven't you? Mommy's here now!"

"Mommy's... Mommy's coming. Just wait a little longer, my daughter."

When her eyes met her mother's, the girl understood. Her mother had not lost herself and rushed here blindly. In those warm eyes, heavy with resolve, the girl saw it clearly: her mother had already made peace with death.

"You've been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so lonely, all by yourself. I'll never leave you alone again. Your mother... is coming to you."

No...!

The girl's blurred vision grew blurrier still. It was growing impossible to keep her feelings buried.

She shook her head as her mother's voice washed over her. But her mother did not stop.

The moment the girl realized her mother would be discovered, her mind snapped into focus. She whipped her gaze around, searching for someone—anyone.

As it happened, the Imperial knight with whom she had made her bargain was watching her with grave eyes. Biting her lip, the girl sent him a desperate, pleading look.

Please. Save my mother.

Had her prayer reached him? With a solemn nod, the knight launched himself forward. The Imperial knight's movement was like the wind—far too fast for ordinary eyes to follow. He closed the distance to the girl's mother in an instant and struck the back of her neck.

Her heart ached as her mother's consciousness cut out, but the knowledge that she would come to no lasting harm brought relief.

Thank you for letting me see her one last time, Mother.

It was just as a single tear slipped down the girl's cheek.

KWAAANG—

A thunderous crash tore through the crowd.

"Kyaaagh!"

"Uwagh!"

At the heart of the commotion, two Imperial knights stood facing each other, blades drawn.

"What is the meaning of this, Clay!"

"Haha. That's precisely what I was about to ask you, Captain."

"Grrrgh. CLAY!!"

Other knights had encircled the man addressed as Captain. Clay—the lanky young knight with narrow, slitted eyes—curling his lips into a smirk, leveled his sword at them all.

"Why has the Captain been bewitched by a 'demon'? You surely can't be ignorant of what it means to point your blade at your own comrades."

"A demon... Do you truly believe that?"

"Heh heh. Captain, please. We're no fools—we weren't about to miss such a clumsy little stage play. Although... the higher-ups did say today's performance was rather lacking in spectacle for a grand finale."

"What are you...!"

The man called Captain's eyes shook violently.

"The other 'demons' have already been wiped out to the last. The Mage Tower is probably busy 'packaging' them for display right about now. It gave us no end of trouble—we never imagined the final one was hiding in the very heart of the capital."

"Wh-what are you saying...?"

"Haha. Why ask what you already know?"

"You...!"

The Captain's eyes went bloodshot with fury. Even before that murderous aura, Clay only smiled wider.

"That's right. Even if a knight-captain seduced by a demon's wiles joins the cast—well, what better way to give the play its final flourish?"

At that moment, one of the knights pressed a syringe into the back of the robbed woman's neck—the woman they had wrested from the Captain's protection.

"Ghhk—!"

As the red liquid inside the syringe emptied into her veins, the unconscious woman's body shuddered, a groan escaping her lips.

"What are you doing to her!!"

"Captain. You're hardly yourself today. It isn't too late. Lower your sword and come join us. Come! Let us purge the demon together, for the peace of the Empire!"

Clay extended his hand to the Captain with an exaggerated flourish.

Meanwhile, at the very highest point of the scaffold, a clown marionette stood with its arms crossed, gazing down at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the scene below.

Cloaking.

A technology of invisibility—artificially manipulating the refractive index of the electromagnetic spectrum so that no unaided eye could observe it.

Above the head of the clown, still holding its cloaking mode, an antenna several tens of meters long hung suspended in midair, pointing toward the sky.

Before the cloaked clown's eyes, messages flickered into being:

Fzzt-krrk—

Above the scaffold, space itself began to split open.