Ugh... Kill him.
Ugh... Kill him.
—Boom!
"You mean she's still holding out! How much longer do you intend to drag this out!"
"M-my apologies, Chief."
A giant of a man sat in an arrogant pose, draped in a leopard skin.
Do Pae, the chief who led these Yellow Turbans,
slammed the table in front of him, his fury plain as day.
"This is the second day! You can't even carry out a single order to bring back one little brat! And you still have the nerve to call yourselves proud Yellow Turbans!"
At the chief's savage roar, the Yellow Turbans began to tremble.
Truth be told, they had plenty they wanted to say themselves.
Little brat or not, they knew perfectly well that the bitch was a monster beyond all common sense. So did their chief, Do Pae, standing before them.
A monster who had fought without pause, day and night, for two straight days, single-handedly slaughtering nearly two hundred souls.
The very brat in question was someone who called to mind the story of how the Hegemon-King of Western Chu himself, in the days before his death, fought for several days and nights and broke through Liu Bang's encirclement.
And the chief was hectoring them to capture that monster alive, not to kill her, and the Yellow Turbans' resentment was climbing all the way up their throats.
If only they could just ignore a bitch like that and plunder the fleeing refugees instead.
The entire situation—a mob of seven thousand squatting here for a second day—was a joke in itself.
And all of it, simply to satisfy the lust of a chief reputed to enjoy nothing more than embracing a pretty young girl.
But logic was distant and a blade was close at hand, and any man who aired his grievances openly here would promptly lose his head.
In the end, the only thing they could do was mollify their dissatisfied chief somehow, as gently as they could.
"J-just grant us a little more time."
"The damn bitch is holding out, but she'll be caught soon."
"Unlike us, the wretch hasn't eaten or drunk a thing for two days, has she? And the men we sent this time know their way around a fight well enough—they'll surely succeed."
"Tch..."
At his subordinates' words, Do Pae made an effort to calm his emotions.
But his patience had already run dry, quite apart from his suppressed fury, and he rose from his seat at once.
"Useless lot. I can't leave it to you wretches any longer."
"Chief?"
Roaring in a ferocious voice, Do Pae picked up the great saber set to one side.
His subordinates instantly realized what that meant.
"I'll go myself. Show me the way."
"!"
"Y-yes, Chief!"
The Yellow Turbans scrambled into motion, following the chief as he strode out of Zhang Miao.
*
The stench of blood filled the air.
At the center of it, a girl leaned against a tree, her body soaked in gore.
Her body, pushed past its limits by wounds large and small, cried out in agony just from standing still.
Her head swam,
and her breathing was endlessly ragged, as though it might cut off at any moment.
Yet even in this state,
the girl was still glaring ahead, her eyes blazing with menace.
"Tch..."
"Stubborn little bitch..."
The Yellow Turbans stood with furrowed brows, unable to bring themselves to draw close.
Wearing expressions of utter exasperation, they maintained deep wariness toward a girl who, by all appearances, was already dying.
A bloody battle that had already dragged on for two days.
The surroundings were a sea of blood, and it seemed the end was at last in sight, but letting one's guard down until the very last moment was strictly forbidden.
Their opponent was a monstrous wretch who, all alone, had killed two hundred of their own.
Step forward carelessly and you would be the one killed first.
Just then, a giant of a man began to walk out from among those Yellow Turbans.
"Ch-chief?"
"You pathetic bastards. All of you, clear the way. I will finish the bitch off myself."
"Understood, Chief."
The chief looked unmistakably different from the rabble who had come so far.
The girl forced herself away from the tree and steadied the sword in her hand.
The crude spear she had first brought out had long since snapped.
What she held now had belonged to one of the Yellow Turbans she had killed, but even this was in poor shape.
A blade so notched it seemed ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
Still, the girl raised the sword with trembling hands and fixed her gaze on the chief's figure as he approached.
And then.
—Clang!
The chief's strike came crashing down.
Heavy yet faster than she had expected, the blow made the girl's brow furrow.
"Huhu... impressive. That you could block my attack in such a state. But how much longer can you hold out, I wonder?"
"Kkh..."
An attack on a completely different level from the small fry, just as his appearance had suggested.
It would not have felt dangerous under normal circumstances, but at that moment, utterly exhausted as she was, she no longer possessed the strength to withstand his strikes.
And above all,
"!"
—Crash!
The sword, unable to take the strain any longer, shattered completely.
The chief aimed his blade straight at the girl's nape in that instant of defenselessness.
"This is as far as you go, little brat."
"Kkh..."
His voice thick with murderous intent, Do Pae nicked her neck with the blade pressed against it.
A single trickle of blood flowed, and the girl dropped to her knees.
"I-it's finally over!"
"Chief Do Pae is victorious!"
"Long live the Chief! Long live the Yellow Turbans!"
Those quick on the uptake began raising cheers.
It was a rather contrived reaction, but Do Pae paid the details no mind.
What mattered to him in this moment was the young wench he had captured.
"... Kkh... kill me."
The girl, her voice heavy with cold fury, demanded her death.
But a request like that never even reached Do Pae's ears.
A small, slender body that had yet to show the full signs of womanhood.
Sullied though it was by blood, grime, and countless small wounds, her untarnished beauty was still plain to see.
This was the very picture of the loveliest woman he had long yearned for.
'As splendid as I'd heard, indeed. At this level, even the two hundred soldiers spent to catch the wretch aren't the least bit wasted.'
Do Pae had bedded no small number of unripe girls, but this one standing before him was worthy of being called the finest among them.
Such looks, paired with such martial prowess.
It might not be a bad idea to go beyond a mere plaything and make her bear his child.
"All of you, withdraw and rest. I will return once my business is finished."
"Ahh..."
"U-understood, Chief."
At his command, the Yellow Turbans began scattering quickly.
From experience, they already knew what would happen next, so they cleared out swiftly to avoid being nagged about it later.
And so Do Pae and the girl were left alone in the forest.
Even in this situation, the young thing was glaring at him as though she meant to kill him.
A gaze that called to mind a bound beast of prey.
A deep smile crept across Do Pae's lips. Such a tiny thing glaring at him with murderous hatred sent a lecherous shiver through his loins.
And then.
—Thud!
"Agh!"
Do Pae kicked the kneeling girl and sent her flying.
Her small body, already at its limit, tumbled powerlessly across the ground.
"Ugh... k... kill me... hurry!"
Even in her agony, the girl cried out in a strained voice.
But Do Pae completely ignored the fallen girl's words, sheathed his blade instead, and licked his lips.
"Huhu... don't glare so. You ought to be nice and obedient to the man who's about to become your husband now."
"!... Wh-what? What do you... hng!"
Do Pae's hands seized the fallen girl's body.
Those brutish hands clamped onto a body that seemed as though it might snap at any moment.
—Riiip!
"Kyahk!"
The girl's tattered upper garment was torn away violently.
As her bare skin began to reveal itself, drool started trickling from the corner of Do Pae's mouth.
"Kehuhuhut... I can't... hold back any longer. Now then, shall we see how good you taste?"
"Kkh... ngh... nngh..."
Do Pae flicked his tongue and reached straight for the girl's chest.
Compared to his large hands, it was a place with next to nothing to grasp, but that fact only excited Do Pae all the more.
Meanwhile,
on the girl's face, despair...
and an emotion called terror began to bloom.
The idea that she might die had been with her from the very start.
Terrifying and agonizing though it was, she had consoled herself with all her might that if her own sacrifice could save her mother...
and, further, save the people fleeing with them, then it was what she had to do.
Yet... what awaited her, having wrung out her courage like this, was an end far more agonizing than death.
Not even an honorable death, but a scene of a vile man trying to violate her.
The girl strove to resist somehow, but her body no longer held even a single shred of strength she could draw upon.
'Why... why must I...'
She had given everything to save people.
For two days and nights she had swung her weapon, and to buy even one more hour she had gritted her teeth and choked the lives from bandits.
And yet all that awaited her was an agony more terrible than death itself.
The honorable death of a warrior that her late father had spoken of,
the "blessing" her mother had said would come as a reward for good deeds—
neither of them existed.
Regret rushed in.
She had clung to a hollow ideal and brought disaster upon herself.
If she had simply abandoned the others from the start...
she would never have had to suffer such a horrible thing.
'No... not this... NO!!'
As the chief's hand was about to touch her chest, the girl squeezed her eyes shut.
Thinking that acting for the sake of others was a fool's errand,
thinking that in this world, one ought to live only... for oneself.
That was when.
"Guuaargh!"
"!!"
A scream rang out right in front of her.
At the same time, a spray of hot blood splattered across her face.
Stricken with confusion at the sudden turn of events, the girl carefully opened her eyes.
"... Huh?"
What began to come into view was the severed head of the Yellow Turban chief who, just moments before, had tried to ravish her.
And in front of it stood a golden-haired woman holding a giant Three-Pointed Blade slick with blood
alongside a man who appeared to be her lord.
A general—clad in a black surcoat over fine armor, with a handsome face apparent at a single glance.
For a moment, he looked down at the Yellow Turban chief's corpse with an icy expression,
then shifted his gaze to the girl.
"Are you all right?"
"Ah... y-yes... I'm... all right. Th-thank you for saving me, my lord..."
A demeanor utterly different from when he had been looking at the chief's corpse a moment ago—solicitous and kind.
The man's face bore a smile as fine as a painting, and at his question the girl answered in a trembling voice, her cheeks flushing before she knew it.
But...
"Oh dear... your clothes..."
"!! Eeep!"
She belatedly realized her own state.
Sudden heat flooded her face, and the girl hastily covered her chest with both hands.
Normally, she had hardly ever paid it any mind.
After all, ever since she was a child she had always run with the boys, brawling from the river to the fields, and more than anything, she herself knew better than anyone that her chest, compared even to the boys', held little worth looking at.
And yet, for some reason, she felt a deep, fierce shame.
The girl, at a loss for what to do, could do nothing but hang her head low.
"... Huh?"
A warm sensation suddenly enveloped the girl who had kept her head bowed.
It was the fine black surcoat the general had been wearing up until a moment ago.
"!... M-my... lord...?"
"Keep that draped over you for now, as a quick fix. I'll send for a physician."
"Th-thank... you."
A surcoat that looked so precious she doubted whether someone like her was even permitted to touch it.
Yet, unable to bring herself to refuse the kindness of the man standing before her, she remained huddled in place for a time with it wrapped around her.
Even though everything had ended, her small heart still pounded, refusing to calm, as she wondered at the feeling inside her own chest.