SOTBW - 89

“Wh-why… are you doing this to me… What are you…?”

“Why?”

Venus, who had been about to savor his drink, muttered in response to Nathan’s question and suddenly burst out laughing.

“Do you think about reasons when you kill a fly? Do you wonder why you pour molten metal into an ant nest? Ah, but I’ll give you this: You perfectly failed, just as I expected, in kidnapping Emaydis.”

Finishing his drink, Venus approached Nathan.

Nathan slowly backed away, his body trembling with fear. As Venus came closer, Nathan sank down slightly into his seat, a fear so overwhelming it numbed him to the pain from his still-healing ear. Despite the certainty that death was imminent, he could not resist.

A colossal terror descended upon him, so intense it felt as though his neck were being squeezed. Like a helpless child, Nathan slumped down, gazing up at Venus. Just before the sharp ice could pierce his heart, Venus’ face morphed into that of a stranger.

The man slowly knelt down to meet Nathan’s eyes. With a fresh, smiling face, he waved his hand.

“If you become a free soul, you won’t be bound by this bloody Noctis anymore.”

A pleasant cinnamon scent drifted through the air.

“Goodbye, Nathan Armunzen.”

The man traced his fingers along Nathan’s neck. There was no blood. The wide magical formations encircling his head had frozen it solid. The man gently lifted Nathan’s head, which was encased in transparent ice. Nathan’s terrified eyes were vividly visible, trapped inside.

The man chuckled softly, casually placing the head in a dish with food. He then divided the torso, which had collapsed sideways, into five parts and laid them out on the table as though dissecting a hunted deer.

Lightly caressing the edge of the table as though petting feathers, the ice crawled up the severed limbs like ivy. The ice cut into Nathan’s limbs like blades. As the man withdrew his hand, the ice shattered like glass.

On the limbs where the ice had lingered, ancient runes were carved. The man observed the blood flowing from the wounds with indifference before turning away. After a brief pause, the man began to slowly change his face and body. Maximón was large and bulky, so imitating him was a considerable challenge, but with magic, copying his cold voice and gaze was a piece of cake.

The man’s small body quickly swelled into a solid form. As he felt his face, he noticed his eyes, nose, and mouth had completely changed. Before leaving the house, he looked at his reflection in a mirror above the fireplace. His moss-green eyes, resembling the stench of decay, stared back at him. Perfect.

Despite the urge to tear his face off as he looked at his reflection, the man calmly gathered Nathan’s sword. Changing his appearance with magic was only temporary. Soon, Nathan’s servant would arrive to treat his wounds.

Pressing himself against the wall, the man began to count in his mind. Soon, the sound of a door opening echoed. As the servant entered the living room, the man raised the sword he had been holding high and struck it down.

The sword sank into the servant’s armpit just as he crossed the threshold. Blood spurted like a fountain. The man crushed the servant’s heart before he could scream. For a moment, the blood poured out of the gaping wound in the chest before it subsided.

The man, now drenched in blood, swept his blood-soaked hair out of his face, thoroughly enjoying the gruesome murder.

The man smeared the servant’s blood across his white shirt, leaving stains everywhere. Once prepared, the man forced a grin onto his face and left the house. As he opened the entrance door, his eyes met those of the guards stationed at the house. Upon seeing him, the guards screamed and aimed their spears.

Everyone nearby turned to look at the man. The man, smiling in satisfaction, struck the spears with his sword, knocking them aside. The house was soon thrown into chaos.

After driving the guards to the brink of death, the man fled. No one pursued him. They seemed too frightened by the thought that it might be Maximón. The man didn’t need to run at full speed like a pitiful thief. It was very easy for him to vanish without a trace from the eyes of others.

With a snap of his fingers, the tangled magical formations in the air formed chains, encircling him. The man didn’t move a single step, and in an instant, he was transported to the winter forest filled with creatures. Once, long ago, this magic had been a common skill even children used, but now it would seem like a miracle to the people of today.

The man landed gently on the frozen pond and then suddenly coughed up blood. The nausea twisted his stomach as he tightly grasped the magic stone at his waist. All the magic that had been tightly stored in the stone had already drained away.

Running his tongue over his sharp teeth, the man spat blood-laced saliva into the snow. He calmly removed the magic stone from his waist, crushing it underfoot. The nearly empty stone cracked and shattered like thin glass.

Now, all that remained in his possession was a meager amount of magical power…

Suddenly, the ground trembled, and a loud thudding sound echoed from somewhere. The man slowly straightened his hunched back. Seven colossal forms, with seven eerie glowing eyes, moved through the forest, crossing its vast expanse. The giants, reminiscent of the Seriths that ancient people once fought, were so large they seemed to surpass the ancient trees.

These enormous beings, resembling herds of slow-moving cows or sheep grazing, headed toward the Noctis fortress. They had already slaughtered every human outside the fortress. Now, there was no one left, except for the Astien Empire and the Bastronia Kingdom. All other places had been wiped clean of humanity.

The man looked up at the massive beasts taking heavy steps, then quickly turned his gaze to the sound of frozen grass being rustled, as darkness settled over the forest. The creatures, so small they could easily be crushed underfoot, were rapidly chasing after the beasts.

The hungry beasts passed the man in an instant. Some of them even crawled up his body, like insects scurrying over a decayed tree. The man did not fear nor dislike the Seriths, and simply waited for them to naturally pass over him.

As the swarm of Seriths swept through the forest like a group of cockroaches, the silence that followed was palpable, and the forest, once filled with the sound of winter winds, fell completely still. However, Seriths’ cocoons were hanging from trees throughout the forest, indicating that new beasts would soon be born. The animals, frightened by the monstrous howls, would never return to the forest, and humans, denying that the world was nearing its end, would soon face the cruel truth with despair.

The man trudged forward, eventually leaving the frozen pond behind. Needing a place to rest, he leaned against a cocoon that had not yet hatched, closing his eyes. Before long, his appearance had changed into that of a disheveled young man with black hair and amethyst-colored eyes.

The cocoon, glowing faintly blue under the moonlight, emitted the typical chilly scent of winter. The man pressed his face against the rough silk of the cocoon and muttered softly.

“…Master.”

There was deep sadness in his voice.

“…This time, I will save you, Master. Without relying on anyone, using only my own strength, I will…”

But inside the cocoon was nothing but a cerise, devoid of self or emotion. The man waited for an answer that would never come, then, in despair like a child, curled up his body.

________________________________________

Something was off...

Najane kicked a cerise beast attacking with all its might and swung her sword. It had been a couple of hours since she had stepped into the battlefield. She counted the number of beasts she had struck down. There were fewer than twenty in total.

Most of them were fairly large beasts, but even so, the number of Seriths was alarmingly low. This was definitely strange. Usually, she would cut down dozens of beasts in a short amount of time, but lately, even though she felt like the battles were becoming easier, she assumed it was just because she had grown accustomed to fighting Seriths.

Najane now realized that this was a misconception.

The number of Seriths had decreased.

By the time she was fighting fiercely enough to sweat on her scalp, there was always the loud roar of an beast in the background, but now there was no such sound. Only the small, growling noises of the Seriths echoed from every direction.

A rather large beast charged at Najane. She noticed blood on its lower jaws. Just as she was about to swing her sword, a fire arrow from above pierced the beast’s head. The beast screamed, shaking its head with the hole in it. Najane seized the opportunity to quickly sever its neck with her sword.

A white breath quickly scattered around her mouth. Looking up at the castle wall, she saw archers calmly shooting Seriths with their arrows. Thanks to the beasts not invading, the atmosphere on the battlefield was relatively calm.

Normally, four soldiers would move like one body to deal with the beasts, but today, the ones that had attacked the fortress were smaller, allowing individual combat. Mercenaries further behind had nothing to do.

Although everyone was uneasy about the unusually low number of Seriths, they still grinned like bullies tormenting the weak, as though they thought there should be days like this. The soldiers, who were always terrified by the brutal beasts, were cutting down the Seriths with enthusiasm, as if they were massacring helpless prisoners.

Najane was curious about the situation at the front line. The knights there were probably fighting only the Seriths. At least no beasts had entered yet. How would Maximón view this situation? Would he just call it strange, or would he think it was just a coincidence? Or maybe, he would think it was simply an anomaly.

She was eager to speak with Maximón. If it were up to her, she would rush to the front line, but remembering Maximón’s words not to leave her post, she continued to deal with the smaller Seriths. There was no need to use her sword technique. The Seriths attacking the fortress today were less skilled and even seemed a bit weak compared to the usual ones.

As the night deepened, the number of Seriths crossing the wall gradually decreased.