Karlson Is Dead

Clang.

"A human who's supposed to protect her village... dropping her sword? What's the use of that, hmm~?"

I tossed the fallen blade in front of Cecilia, my voice dripping ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with mockery. She stared down at the sword, the terror still raw on her face, and I watched hesitation take root. The sight disappointed me.

It was too soon for her to break.

In that case, maybe I should scrape a little deeper.

"Heh heh! You can't protect other humans... You're weak."

The words seemed to strike a nerve. Cecilia clenched her teeth and seized the sword, as if trying to steel whatever will she had left.

"You cowards...!"

She pushed herself up on trembling legs and spat the accusation at me.

"Puh-heh-heh!!"

That was what came out of her, drowning in emotion? That I was a coward?

Adorable. So adorable I could die.

That's right. It was still too early for despair. Suffer more. Despair more. That way, when I finally took her, she'd show me a truly entertaining face.

I wanted to show that bastard what she looked like completely ruined, as soon as I possibly could. What kind of expression would that miserable son of a bitch make when he saw her broken? Looking at a man's face wasn't really my thing — but that one. That one I had to see.

"If there's a god, he'll help you overcome this unfair, this impossible situation, right? God is on humanity's side, isn't that so?"

I threw her own words back at her, the corner of my mouth curling up. Unable to refute me, Cecilia bit down hard on her lip, adjusted her grip on the sword, and prepared to charge me again.

Twang—

As if they'd been waiting for the cue, the monsters seized the ropes once more and threw her off balance. She'd anticipated it this time, at least — she didn't go down like before. She flailed, her center of gravity gone, staggering like a dancer with her strings cut, but she poured everything she had into not letting go of the blade.

She was starting to adapt, correcting her stance, gathering the strength to swing at me again. I had no intention of sitting back and watching.

Thud!

"Guh—."

I drove my fist into her abdomen while she hung defenseless, her limbs pulled taut. In a single blow her spine arched like a shrimp's. She dropped to her knees and finally lost the sword.

Clang—

"Hngh, hngh... uh..."

I looked down at Cecilia, her head bowed, drool spilling ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from her lips as she gasped for the breath that had been punched from her lungs, and I sneered.

"Dropped it again, did you?"

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at me. Fear clung thick to those trembling pupils, but she still hadn't fully broken.

Good. Very good.

"Take it."

I nudged the fallen sword with my foot, sliding it up to her nose.

"I will never—"

She rose with grim determination in her voice.

But.

Thud!

"Guhk—. Blaaargh—"

The same sequence played out. She crumpled to the floor clutching her stomach. Taking another blow to the same spot, she dropped to her knees and retched.

"Never what?"

I echoed her words, prompting her to continue.

"Ugh..."

Vomit dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Cecilia's face twisted in agony, and she couldn't finish the sentence. I watched that pitiful human display and laughed, loud and long.

A noble spirit? A superior body? Willpower?

Fuck all of that.

In the end, living things are helpless before pain. As long as humans are human — as long as they are nothing more than living creatures — they cannot ignore the pain that reaches their flesh. Humans are designed that way. I know that well.

"Take it."

I offered the sword again. Cecilia's face flickered through several rounds of inner conflict, the learned pain warring with whatever pride she had left, before she took the blade with trembling hands.

She staggered to her feet, but anyone could see the will had gone out of her eyes. There was no strength in the hand that held the sword, no hostility in the blade she pointed at me. The fire that had burned in those pupils had already gone cold, seized by some dark, murky emotion.

This time I ordered the monsters not to restrain her.

Whoosh—

The sword cut weakly through empty air. Dodging a blade with no will, no killing intent, and no strength behind it was trivially easy.

Thud—

"Guhk!?"

I drove my fist into her stomach once more, and she collapsed to the floor immediately. Clutching her belly as a bruise bloomed blue across the skin, she gasped for air, then pressed her face into the ground—

"Kh-hhhk..."

—and began to sob.

She had learned, viscerally, her own powerlessness. That there was nothing she could do. The shadow of despair began to settle over her.

"Pick it up."

I held the sword out in front of her nose again, but this time she didn't take it. She flinched away instead, recoiling as if the offered blade were something terrifying.

Just as I was about to put the finishing touch on her descent into ruin, a chime rang out.

Looking at the window that had appeared, an amusing thought occurred to me.

What a timely skill.

"Kiiik!"

A monster brought me the head of the male guardsman whose throat it had cut as an example. Originally I had planned to shatter her mind by showing her a comrade's death right in front of her eyes — but acquiring the skill changed my plans.

I hid the man's head behind my back and met the gaze of the woman kneeling on the floor.

"Poor Cecilia."

"Hic... hic..."

The pitiful female just kept sobbing with her head bowed.

"You never wanted to be a guard, did you? You didn't want to — but someone had to, so you did it out of duty, isn't that right? You hated fighting. You hated hurting people."

At words that struck so close to home, Cecilia slowly raised her head. We were close enough that I could hear her breathing. The eyes that met mine were wet and trembling.

"H-how..."

How do I know? I just threatened the villagers you love and want to protect with a sword, and they spilled everything.

I swallowed the words I wanted to say and went on in a whisper.

"You wanted to live an ordinary life, didn't you? Like the other women in the village. Work an ordinary job in town, meet an ordinary man, get married, have children."

"I... I'm not... that's..."

Her trembling pupils wavered. The reflection of me in those eyes was wearing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a gentle, kindly smile. The sweeter the whisper that coiled into her ear, the more her mind twisted in on itself.

Wasn't it hilarious? She was receiving the compassion and sympathy she'd always wanted... from a monster.

I hid the laugh that threatened to escape at that stubborn, stupid, moronic, pathetic, dull-witted display, and worked my serpent's tongue.

"I know. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? The ones in the wrong are the villagers who forced that role on you."

The focus was draining from Cecilia's eyes. Bewitched, her gaze locked onto mine and stayed there, concentrating on me alone.

"Someone else could have done it. Why did it have to be you? Why did no one ever tell you that you didn't have to?"

She said nothing.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"In the end, you couldn't protect anyone. And you never will. Just like a moment ago. But that's not your fault."

Still nothing. She looked vacant, her mouth hanging open, the muscles of her face going slack.

"You were only ever a woman. A powerless woman. A woman who couldn't even fight, who couldn't even hold her own in a quarrel. It's only natural that a woman has no strength. You can pick up a sword and train all you like — it doesn't change what you were born as."

The body and mind she'd trained so diligently were crumbling before a single monster weaker than she was. Her flesh, and her very humanity, were being stripped bare and thoroughly butchered.

"Poor Cecilia..."

There was laughter mixed into the voice that feigned sorrow.

I stroked Cecilia's hair. Having lost all will, she let my touch linger in a daze — then her gaze fell to the sword on the floor. Something about the blade seemed to stir a memory. Consciousness flickered back into her eyes, faint but present, and she shook her head and opened her mouth.

"N-no... they'll come save me... the villagers, my comrades... Karlson, the captain...!"

That trembling voice wrung out the last of her will to live. She called the name of the man she admired — and perhaps even loved.

Watching that pitiful desperation as she clung to whatever hope she could, my heart trembled. I already knew how that face was about to change, and a thrilling rush of excitement climbed my spine. Before I crushed that scraped-together hope to crumbs, I let the mockery leave my lips.

"...Huh?"

Cecilia's mouth fell open in a stupid gape, as if she couldn't possibly believe what she'd just heard.

"The prince charming you're waiting for isn't coming. Ki-ki-kik!!"

"...What."

I held out, right in front of her, the face of the male guardsman whose head I'd taken earlier. Eyes still wide and staring from the moment of death. A tongue lolling from a mouth that had been torn open in a scream.

Caught in the skill, she believed the face before her was Karlson's. She couldn't accept the reality all at once; her pupils slowly, steadily dilated. But before long, those eyes — overlaid with the lie — began to take the reality in front of them as truth.

"...That's a lie."

What came of it was a denial of reality. Instead of answering, I shook the head I was holding right in front of her nose. Her unraveling only deepened.

"Liar...! Liar! Liar!! LIARRR—!!!"

Cecilia clutched her head and shook it violently, screaming. In the instant those contorted eyes poured out tears, still trying to deny reality to the very end—

Shunk—

"...Huh?"

I drove a blade into the temple of the severed head. In her eyes, it would have looked as though Karlson had died right in front of her a second time.

Thud.

The head slipped from my hand, rolled across the ground, bumped into the thigh of the woman kneeling there, and stopped. Cecilia stared down at the desecrated head of Karlson, gazing at it blankly, and then—

Snap.

The sound of her consciousness — the thing that had been holding up her reality — cutting loose rang through the air. I could see it with perfect clarity: the hope I'd trampled scattering like dust.

"Kee-hit!!"

A laugh soaked in excitement burst out of me on its own. The moment I saw the face of a human whose very self had been destroyed, blood surged into my already-rigid cock, swelling it to its absolute limit.

Cooked to perfection.

Right, then. Time to fuck this broken bitch like a dog.