Chapter 53
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: A Father's Confession
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Luon quietly gripped the hilt of the trembling sword. Then, a faint smile crept onto his face without him realizing it.
It wasn't a smile born of satisfaction, but something closer to a hollow laugh of disbelief.
Ruin, conveying its will through emotion rather than language, was saying this:
-There's something in the village-
This was a sensation entirely different from the mechanical reaction Ruin had shown back when it was a holy sword, whenever it faced an evil being or a demon's minion.
A strange, inexplicable certainty, a sensation of being keenly honed. Yes, intuition.
…What in the world.
Luon, who had thought the sword was sending a signal in response to demonic power, felt his tension drain away and scratched his cheek.
As he was about to set the sword down with a hollow smile, he suddenly furrowed his brow.
The thought that he had grown too complacent, accustomed to the convenience of the holy sword that rooted out evil and tracked the Great Demon, flashed through his mind.
When have I ever moved only when I was certain?
Recalling his past, when he would throw himself into action without hesitation the moment doubt or curiosity stirred, Luon looked down at the sword.
The ego sword, influenced by him, was still trembling minutely, as if urging him to trust its intuition.
Luon replied calmly.
“Fine. Let's do it.”
***
Late at night, clouds swallowed the moonlight.
A man with a dazed expression pulled a scythe from a bundle of straw.
The man's name was Philip.
Bending his knees and lowering his stance, he laid the scythe at an angle on a whetstone on the ground and began to move his arm at a steady pace.
Shing—shing.
An eerie sound, shattering the deep silence, echoed from Philip's fingertips.
A moment later, he slowly stood up and stared blankly at the coldly gleaming blade, muttering softly.
“…Sonya, wait. I’ll be with you soon.”
The moment he finished speaking, Philip immediately gripped the scythe upside down. Pressing his face into the curve of the scythe, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Fear washed over him like a wave. To steady his wavering heart, Philip recalled Sonya's face—how her belly had swollen amidst a terrible fever before she lost her life.
As if by magic, the trembling in his hands ceased. That was it. All he had to do now was lift his hands. Then he would be able to see his dead wife again.
It was then.
“In that clumsy position, you won’t sever an artery. You’ll just end up slicing your vocal cords for nothing.”
Startled by the dry voice, Philip dropped the scythe.
Staring blankly at the scythe that had fallen to the ground with a clang, he looked up. A complete stranger was watching him intently.
Just then, the clouds began to part, and faint moonlight poured down on the two men.
The man spoke.
“I’ve never seen anyone try to kill themselves in such a bizarre position. It would be faster to just use a paring knife from your house to slit your wrists.”
The man who offered the overly practical advice shrugged and added.
“Not that I’m telling you to do that, of course.”
Philip moistened his dry lips with his tongue before speaking. A hoarse, unpleasant voice came from his mouth.
“…Who are you?”
“A traveler.”
“What’s a traveler doing in front of someone’s house at this hour?”
“I heard the sound of a blade being sharpened from afar, so I came to check. To think it was you.”
Philip asked again, his voice trembling.
“You know who I am?”
“I saw you crying on my way into the village.”
“…Then you must know why I’m trying to die. Please, just pretend you didn’t see anything and leave. I’ll follow the advice you gave me.”
This is awkward.
Hearing not a shred of attachment to life in Philip's voice, the man, Luon, scratched his head.
He had no intention of spouting clichés like ‘the living must go on,’ but ignoring the situation felt just as awkward.
Should I have woken Igor and brought him along?
While he stood there, lost in thought, Philip suddenly snatched the scythe from the ground.
As he swung the scythe to slit his wrist, Luon’s strong hand caught his arm.
“Nngh!”
Flustered that the arm wouldn't budge no matter how hard he struggled, Philip's face began to turn beet red.
Luon let out a soft sigh, snapped the neck of the scythe with his other hand, and threw it far away.
“Why! Why are you interfering!”
Philip screamed, veins bulging on his neck, but only a hollow, wheezing sound escaped his already hoarse throat.
Luon shrugged.
“Well, I’m not sure myself.”
Struck speechless by the honest answer, Philip gaped for a moment before letting his head fall and muttering weakly.
“I’m not worthy of living. Please, let me atone to my wife. Please.”
Atone?
Luon tilted his head at the unexpected word. As he recalled, the man named Philip’s wife had died suffering from childbed fever.
In a place with abysmal hygiene compared to the modern world, death by infection was common.
Of course, this being a world overlaid with fantasy, all sorts of secret arts existed to heal wounds, but those were not for ordinary villagers.
In any case, Philip blaming himself for his wife’s death from an infection during childbirth didn’t add up, so Luon asked without delay.
“Atone, out of nowhere? It’s not like you killed your wife, so what are you talking about?”
“Th-that’s…”
As if belatedly realizing his slip, Philip bit his lower lip and swallowed his words.
Reading a fragment of an unspeakable secret in his anxiously darting eyes, Luon asked.
“What did you do?”
Philip, whose mind was already on the brink—enough to consider taking his own life—ironically couldn't withstand that simple question and crumbled completely.
“I didn’t know things would turn out like this!”
He collapsed to the ground and began to mutter like a madman.
“W-we… my wife and I just wanted a child. I always wanted to braid the hair of a daughter who looked like Sonya, and Sonya always said she wanted to play ball with a son who looked like me. We, we… we just wanted a child.”
Luon released the man’s arm, which was trembling like an epileptic’s, and asked coldly.
“And?”
Philip continued, his jaw trembling.
“But no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t conceive… So… so…”
His story continued, rambling and incoherent. There were parts that were completely unintelligible due to his hoarse voice, but Luon could still piece together the gist of what had happened.
One day, a strange woman came to the small inn the couple ran. She stayed for quite a long time, and during her stay, she developed a relationship with the couple, enough to share stories with them.
The woman, who introduced herself as Hella, had a mysterious air about her. Bewitched by her aura, the couple hesitantly confessed their deepest trouble.
Their struggle to conceive despite their continued efforts.
‘If that’s the problem, I can help. Provided you have a few ingredients.’
Smiling faintly, Hella requested the following ingredients.
A few strands of Sonya’s hair, some of her fingernails and toenails, and a cloth stained with her menstrual blood.
Sonya, snapped to her senses by the gruesome request, waved her hands in refusal, but Philip was different.
Clutching at straws, he secretly prepared the ingredients while Sonya slept and gave them to Hella. After receiving them, Hella replied curtly.
‘There will be good news.’
Surprisingly, her words came true.
A few weeks after Hella left, Sonya started having morning sickness.
Deciding to let sleeping dogs lie, Philip never mentioned Hella to Sonya. He figured that knowing the details wouldn't be good for the baby in her womb.
The two spent the happiest few months of their lives. As Sonya’s belly grew, so did their happiness.
And misfortune always has a way of striking at such times.
“L-labor started much earlier than expected. I was about to rush to get the midwife, but Sonya’s screams weren't normal. S-so I went to check on her myself, and…”
As if just recalling that moment was agonizing, Philip squeezed his eyes shut and said.
“The thing that clawed its way out of her… it wasn't human. It was just…”
“…a monster,” Philip muttered, gasping for breath.
Luon, seized by an inexplicable sense of déjà vu, silently focused on his story.
“The thing scuttled away in an instant… I couldn’t even think of chasing it. I just stood there watching. Like an idiot.”
By the time Philip came to his senses and hastily gathered the villagers, Sonya’s body was already broken, and she had crossed a river of no return.
“Sonya died without even knowing she had given birth to a monster. Until the very end, she just kept repeating that she wanted to see the baby… begging me to show her…”
Looking down at Philip, who clutched his chest and began to sob, Luon asked.
“What did you tell the others?”
“I said it died… that I buried it.”
It was a god-awful story.
Luon stood up with a hardened expression, recalling an incident he had long since erased from his memory.
Grungrad, a nobleman, a mistress, a ghoul, a monster that birthed ghouls, a witch, and Hella.
He instinctively knew that the woman named Hella was the same witch who had desecrated the cemetery in Grungrad.
It wasn't because he had found some significant connection. It was simply a gut feeling, close to certainty.
“I killed Sonya. I killed Sonya…”
Having confessed the secret he had kept bottled up, Philip instantly looked as if he had aged ten years.
Leaving him be, Luon immediately set off. A moment later, his steps halted in front of the stables.
“Don’t pretend to be asleep.”
At his words, the nightmare slowly opened its eyes.
“Come with me.”
Luon mounted the black horse as it snorted and trotted out of the stable on its own.
“You were exposed to curses for a long time, so you must have a knack for sensing them, right?”
He stroked the nightmare’s mane and added.
“There should be a cursed monster somewhere near this village. Find it. You need to earn your keep.”
The moment he finished speaking, the nightmare’s mane began to flutter. It looked around for a moment, then fixed its gaze and began to paw at the ground.
Heeeeeigh!
The black horse let out a wild cry and instantly galloped through the night streets. In a flash, it was out of the village, crossing a plain of wheat fields and plunging without hesitation into the adjacent forest.
Weaving unhindered between the trees, it suddenly came to a halt.
Dismounting the black horse, which snorted as if to announce their arrival, Luon gazed into the dark forest and heightened his senses.
The moment [Fey Hearing] activated, he heard a disgusting, ravenous chewing sound.
“Wait here.”
Luon gently stroked the black horse and immediately headed in the direction of the sound.
It didn't take long to find the monster.
Beneath a large, crooked tree, Luon saw a bizarre creature devouring the flank of a bear as large as a house and drew his sword without hesitation.
As red runes flared from Ruin’s blade, pushing back the forest’s darkness, the creature’s body froze.
The creature’s face slowly turned toward Luon.
An organ that appeared to be a mouth, located on the lower part of its hideously twisted face, opened with a grating sound.
“Da-da-ddy?”
Who are you calling daddy?
Luon immediately kicked off the ground.