Chapter 105: Burden
A while ago, as the night's coldness moved restlessly through the streets and wrapped around him, Kael stood quietly with his messy brown hair drifting along with the wind's touch, his eyes following the two women who were making their way across the bridge. When they finally reached the middle, he instantly recognized Eska, the girl who seemed to be engaged in an endless flow of words with her companion.
The other one, however, he could only vaguely place in memory. If he recalled correctly, she was the waitress who worked in the same place as Eska, and he was almost certain he had overheard the two of them speaking once before, back on the very day he rid the world of that wretched knight. Strange how memory worked, when he thought on it now, he realized it had been no grand discovery but rather a mere coincidence that he had learned about that poor girl's suffering at all. Still, he could not deny that he had become far more entangled in her misery than he had first intended, perhaps even too deeply, yet in the end such things hardly mattered so long as no one discovered the truth about him.
Time passed slowly as he remained crouched there, his gaze drifting lazily toward the two women. He found the constant sound of the other girl's voice, unbroken and unending, rather dull to endure. He could do little else than watch her chatter on and on, and although Eska's silence carried a beauty of its own, he did not feel entirely right staring at a girl who looked as though she could fall asleep mid-conversation.
At one point, however, his attention sharpened, when he began to sense something wrong about the waitress. It no longer seemed like idle talk; instead, the words between them carried sharpness, almost like an argument, though truthfully it was only the other girl who spoke with such force. Soon after, Kael felt uneasiness settle inside him because Eska's expression grew pale and her features tightened as though she were holding back pain.
"I wonder what they are talking about…" he thought quietly to himself.
Yet before he could complete that thought, the air in front of him stirred unnaturally, and when he focused he noticed a faint shimmer taking shape, until he realized with a start that it was a weapon.
A sword, perhaps.
What unsettled him most was not the weapon itself but the absurdity of it... why would a simple waitress be holding such a blade, and more than that, why did it appear as if she had summoned it from nothing? The sight carried a strange familiarity that he could not place, and so he merely curled his fingers inward, uncertain, watching in silence.
There was no need to be a great strategist to see where this was heading. The sharp tip of that sword angled itself toward Eska, who stood vulnerable before it, and Kael understood immediately that the poor girl's life might very well end in the next moment.
So the question arose: what exactly was he supposed to do here? It sounded simple at first glance, but with his current situation and the weight of his ideals it became far more complicated than one might imagine. The first problem was his position. He was not alone on that rooftop, after all, but seated right beside one of Velhart's feared lieutenants, who also happened to be his temporary master.
"Wait… is Arwyn actually watching them? Is she spying on this?" he whispered under his breath.
It would have been no question at all if Arwyn had been awake. If she were, then certainly she could save the girl without much trouble. Yet the truth was harsher, since not only was she asleep, but Kael himself had pushed her even deeper into that slumber. The chances of her waking before morning were slim at best. This left him with the option of interfering himself, should he truly decide to.
The problem was that he hardly believed in his own ability these days, not with the kind of luck that seemed to follow him around. If he tried to intervene again with Eska, then perhaps Arwyn would suddenly wake and discover everything, and he had no clear understanding of what her elemental affinity even was. He could only guess that it had something to do with plants, or perhaps with trees or maybe woods, but guessing would do little to save him if she opened her eyes.
"Alright then, let us assume she won't wake up so soon…" he muttered in his head, trying to steady himself.
Even so, another sound drifted faintly to him, the faint ring of clashing steel carried on the wind from the direction Arwyn had occasionally turned her gaze before sleep overtook her. Kael knew without question who was fighting there... it could only be his wife, Seraphina. Arwyn had never said a word, but Kael had pieced it together from her movements, and if Seraphina was engaged in battle it was nothing short of a disaster.
If he had to predict, the moment she finished off her enemies she would rush here within seconds, and if she heard even the faintest cry she would not hesitate. The thought alone chilled him, because he had no desire to fight the beautiful knight Captain again. Beautiful in appearance she might be, but in combat she was nothing less than a demoness.
He remembered well the lesson from the night he had gone after that loathsome knight, only to find Seraphina herself standing in his path. They clashed, and though he fought desperately with nothing more than a sword, he barely managed to trick her and slip away like some pitiful coward.
"I value my life, after all. Who in their right mind would want to fight that demoness? Certainly not me."
If there was one thing Kael was confident in, it was that Seraphina could crush him without effort in a fair sword fight. And even if she chose to restrain herself, she still carried lightning within her veins, a power she rarely needed to use because her raw skill with the blade was terrifying enough on its own. In truth, Kael realized he knew nothing of her full fighting style. Perhaps her father knew, but if so, the old man would never share such secrets with him.
"Well, it is not like the old man trusts me anyway. No one would, not an assassin."
So then, what chance did he truly have if he found himself once more standing against Seraphina? Would he be able to retreat like before? He doubted it, since she would not allow him such mercy this time, not after what he had done. Was he really so powerless before her?
Not entirely. For all her terrifying strength, Seraphina was no perfect being. Perfection, after all, was nothing more than a myth, and everything in this world had its own weakness. Kael knew hers well.
"She is not merciless…" he whispered, almost to reassure himself.
Indeed, no matter how cold, disciplined, and unyielding she appeared, he knew for certain that she had never even taken a human life before. But that didn't mean she's not vicious enough. Truthfully, she's more vicious than even he himself. After all, merciless and vicious are two different things and act in different situations. Such as, against monsters she never ever showed hesitation, but when the foe was a human her blade always faltered, her resolve always softened at the final moment. That was his greatest advantage should fate throw them against each other again, even if he did not wish for such an outcome.
So now, what choice was he to make?
He could step in and save the girl, but the risks gathered before him like an endless tide. His identity, his secrets, his survival... everything balanced on this one moment. Perhaps, if timing were perfect and fortune unexpectedly favored him, he could succeed. Yet his life had never been guided by fortune, and so he doubted it would start now.
But... why would he trouble himself to risk his true identity and the secrets he had carefully kept hidden just for a mere waitress he barely knew? What would he truly gain from saving such a weakling?
Nothing… he would gain nothing and he would lose nothing either. So why should he ever bother with her?
He was not some kind of hero who roamed around saving people in need, especially not when doing so meant putting his life on the line. He could have simply stayed here and watched the girl get slaughtered. He would not feel sorrow for her, not even a shred of regret. If he had been burdened with such emotions, he would never have survived in this merciless world until now. Of course, it was not as though he enjoyed watching slaughter either, in truth he would feel nothing at all. So then why… why did he stop her from committing suicide that day?
This world was cursed, a place where the weak were destined to lose and the strong continued to triumph and crush them again and again. That was the order of this damned world and the will of its wretched rulers. And beyond them were those other bastards, the ones the weak worshipped day after day, the ones they called gods, who only watched in silence. That is, if such gods even existed. And so, the weak gave up on their own lives, despairing until the moment they tried to end it with their own hands.
And that was what he despised most about them. Not their weakness itself, but the way they surrendered without even trying. He did not hate them for being fragile; he hated the way their minds bent and broke so easily. That was the only reason he had stopped Eska from throwing her life away that day. He did not save her because he wanted to protect her, he saved her because he could not stand that kind of weakness.
As for why he killed that knight, it had always been the same principle. He hated men who forced themselves on women, and though he never understood why, he could never endure the sight of it. Whenever it happened his blood boiled, his thoughts went dark, and only one truth burned inside him: he had to kill the bastard, no matter what. It was not to save anyone; it was because he could not tolerate such filth existing in front of him. It was because of his hatred, not for some grand reason.
So then, today, he had no reason at all to save her, not any kind of hatred toward anyone. He could have simply stood here and watched her die, if he wished.
But…
If he chose to save her life today, he would also be saving another life inside her. Was he not the one who had planted the thought in her heart that the child could become her hope to live another day? Was he not the reason she clung to that fragile thread of belief?
If she had died that day, she might never have faced this night, never have endured the betrayal of the one who was closest to her, never have suffered the weight of hope only to watch it shatter. So then, who was truly the cause of her extra pain, her extra suffering?
Who?
Who?
Who?
His chest grew strangely heavy, burdened by a feeling he could not name, something unfamiliar that unsettled him. He did not want to look at her any longer, he truly did not. He turned away quickly and began walking with his back to them. Perhaps within moments she would die, and he would not have to see it.
"Pathetic…" he whispered to himself.
This world was pathetic, its gods were pathetic, the people living within it were pathetic, and even he himself was pathetic.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles went rigid. He tilted his head toward the sky, closed his eyes, and let out a long breath. A small cloud of mist left his lips and drifted into the air as the night wind tangled with his messy hair.
When his eyes opened once again, they fell on the body of the Lieutenant. He gave her a cold, detached look, and in that moment his left hand began to glow with a bright yellow light. A glove, shimmering like transparent glass, manifested over his fingers. He lowered his hand to the ground, pressing it firmly against the stone.
For a moment nothing stirred, but then the earth began to ripple beneath his touch, shifting like water disturbed by falling rain. Without hesitation he thrust his hand forward, and the wall accepted it as though it had always been liquid.
Liquid Chest.
A relic that allowed him to turn walls into openers, connecting them directly to the original chest body of the artifact stored in his bath. It was one of the rarest treasures he possessed, a gift from his father-in-law, who did not want his son-in-law to die in weakness but to fall in battle as a warrior who had fought until the end.
"Ah… what a caring father-in-law."
He rarely made use of the relic, since it drained his mana severely even for something so small, but now he had no choice.
As soon as he pulled out a black coat, a black mask with white curvy lines and a longsword which seemed to be made out of ink, a crooked smile curved across his lips. Of course, it would come to this… just what in the hell was he doing?
Nothing much, just repaying his debt... he's not the type to go around with debts on his head, after all. Even though he was very shameless, he still had a little shred of sanity.
Ah, but time was wasting.
---
And thus, here he was, standing silently behind Eska. As for how he managed to arrive so quickly, it was no more than a reckless decision he made at the very last moment.
He had stood on the edge of the roof and released wind magic beneath his feet with such immense pressure that his body was thrown upward into the night air, and while he thought his reckless leap would surely end with him tumbling into the waters below, by some stroke of fortune he had instead landed just behind the girl, his figure looming above her in the faint glow of moonlight.
Even so, the impact had made his legs ache painfully despite his attempt to soften the landing with another burst of wind, and it was nothing short of luck that he had missed the forest altogether.
It was then, in front of him, that the girl known as Effie suddenly burst out in shrill laughter. Her voice carried an almost mocking tone as her fingers pressed against her temple. When Kael turned his gaze on her, his eyes grew cold and filled with murderous intensity, though his expression beneath the mask remained unreadable.
Effie, however, lowered her hand slightly, peering at him from between her fingers as if amused by his very presence, and with a tilt of her head she muttered in a crooked voice, "Ah, I can hardly believe it. To think I would end up striking two birds with a single arrow. So, you are the meddlesome junk of files who has been disrupting all of my carefully laid plans again and again. Do you have any idea how many times I was forced to waste effort just to set everything back in place because of you? But you, you came along and tore them all apart. You must be punished, don't you think? Ah, but worry not, I will make good use of your body as well..."
Kael tilted his head slightly, his thoughts drifting with a strange mixture of confusion and disgust. "Just what is this lunatic babbling about? I disrupted her plans... but what kind of plans? Could it be some scheme that was never meant to include me in the first place? Wait a moment... did she just say she wants my body? How utterly disturbing. And why my body of all things? I am not even handsome. What is wrong with these women lately, one lunatic monster craving my blood and now another speaking about my body as though it were some kind of prize..."
With that bitter thought lingering in his mind, he turned and took a few unhurried steps forward, his presence finally becoming noticeable to Effie as his tall figure emerged from the shadows.
One hand rested in the pocket of his black trousers, and as the wind swept across the bridge it caught the edges of his long black coat, making it flutter and sway behind him and in turn revealing the pale shirt tucked neatly into his pants beneath. He had not even found the time to button his coat, which in itself was bothersome, yet he let it remain so. After a brief pause he lifted his gaze toward Effie and merely shrugged behind the dark mask covering his face. "What a troublesome woman you are..."
At those words a crooked smile stretched across Effie's lips, a smile so twisted that it made Eska shiver where she stood. "You think so? How sweet of you to say... but the truth is you are nothing more than a nuisance, a complete nuisance. I want to kill you so desperately... but no, that will not do at all. So tell me, what should I do with your body instead?"
She crossed one arm over her chest while the other hand found her chin, her rapier still hanging loosely at her side, and her expression twisted even further as she muttered with delight. "Ah, yes, you have muscles in your body, don't you? Perhaps you are more handsome than I first realized... yes, you would make the perfect masterpiece. All of my other collections are so hideous and useless, I could never use them for my desires... but you, you will be perfect. I can hang your corpse on the wall... perhaps decorate it... ah, there are so many things I wish to do, so many... but why can't I remember them... why?"
Kael turned his face fully toward her, and although the mask hid his expression, beneath it his features were utterly blank as he thought to himself, "What a blessed man I am, to become a corpse before I have even died. Truly, what an achievement. And what a lunatic she is."
He then shrugged faintly and said aloud in a calm voice, "You do realize I am still alive, right?"
Eska's eyes slid toward him in the corner of her gaze, yet she remained silent. He noticed then the emptiness in her eyes—eyes that seemed to have endured far too much already. And still, beneath that emptiness there was the faintest trace of wetness gathering, and it came so quickly that he hardly knew what to say. At last, he murmured softly, "Stay back, Eska. Or run away if you wish. Otherwise, you will only get in my way."
Eska turned her face toward him, and on her dark, pained features a faint and fleeting smile appeared, so fragile it seemed ready to break. She then turned her back and walked slowly toward the start of the bridge, each step heavy with pain, and when she reached the edge she turned once more, her expression filled with sorrow as her eyes lingered on them.
Kael released a deep sigh and lifted his gaze once more toward the deranged girl who was still muttering incoherently to herself. He had no desire to understand what nonsense she was spilling. Slowly, he raised his longsword and leveled the blade toward her as his head tilted slightly. "If you are done with your madness... then shall we begin?"
Effie's lips curved into yet another crooked smile, one steeped in madness. "Oh, of course, but I still have not finished deciding what I will do with your—"
Before she could finish, Kael dashed forward with stunning speed, closing the distance between them in an instant, his longsword cutting through the air as it sought her chest with the clear intent to tear her in two.
Yet Effie's eyes gleamed with a twisted light as she shifted, her rapier snapping upward without hesitation to meet his strike. Her face contorted into something both furious and delighted as she spat, "Ah, it seems I must teach your corpse some proper manners, so that you always remember... ladies first."
Their blades clashed with a ringing cry, sparks scattering as Kael pressed down with all his strength, only to find her force matching his own without falter. Behind his mask he let out a low chuckle, his voice edged with mockery.
"What a spectacular statement. Since I was the one to break such manners, allow me the honor of sending you to hell first."
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(Chapter Ended)