Chapter 100

In wartime, circumstances being what they are, inhumane acts are committed without hesitation. With a common enemy at the gates, internal divisions nevertheless erupt frequently, and as mercenary bands and itinerant profiteers become deeply entangled, deaths occur for a wide range of reasons within a web of complicated, overlapping interests.

Even in the military tribunals convened after the war ends, punishing such war criminals proves difficult. Without physical evidence capable of establishing responsibility, there is no way to assign guilt.

This, no doubt, was why Hermann had dared to act so far outside the bounds of reason. Whether it was the poorhouse incident or the sudden attack on Eisenwald’s soldiers, even if clear evidence existed, it was nearly impossible for Hermann himself to face punishment. Those who ruled from above were most adept at severing tails. All he needed to do was shift the blame onto a few suitably chosen subordinates, and the matter would end there.

Odelliana was certain that if someone were to die, it would not be Matthias but Hermann. And, as if to prove her conviction right, exactly three days after Jocelyn’s visit, an urgent telegram arrived in Eisenwald.

It carried news of the death of Hermann, supreme commander of the allied forces.

***

Thud.

A body that was nothing but brutish bulk collapsed helplessly to the ground. Its cleanly severed head rolled away, tumbling into a pooled slick of blood. Around the spreading crimson on the floor lay no fewer than ten corpses, each with their necks neatly cut.

“A m-monster…!”

Those who still had their heads realized too late that something had gone terribly wrong. Mistaking him for a stray boy soldier who had fallen behind his unit, they had thought to seize him and sell him off for ransom. The price of that misjudgment was catastrophic. Unable to subdue a single young boy, the mercenary troop lost half its forces in the blink of an eye.

The jet black blade, soaked through with blood, had taken on a dark, almost purplish hue. Standing calmly with that blood-darkened sword in hand, his body splashed red from head to toe, the boy looked like a slaughter demon made flesh. Driven by instinctive terror, the survivors turned and fled.

The boy remained composed, even after facing more than ten grown men. His breathing was steady. He merely watched the fleeing figures without any attempt to pursue them. Instead, he picked up one of the corpses at his feet and stripped it of its clothes.

After shedding the cumbersome steel armor and changing, he went to a nearby lake to wash the blood from his face, then resumed moving. Along the way, he slipped naturally into another mercenary group. A mercenary without a unit being absorbed into a different band was common enough that no one questioned it.

“I hear Commander Hermann has gone back out to the field,” one man said. “Might be worth sticking close to him and making a fortune.”

“That idiot who ran with his tail between his legs after losing a battle crawled back already?”

“Yeah. The Grüsewald heir. They say he reorganized his forces while staying in Eisenwald. Looks like he marched out again with the reinforcements brought by the Second Prince.”

“If it is the Second Prince’s troops, that means the Royal Knight Order,” another scoffed. “One wrong move and we lose our heads. There are people you can touch and people you avoid.”

“You are the idiot,” the first man shot back. “What job here is not dangerous? If you came here ready to risk your life, you should at least aim for a strike big enough to change your fate.”

For mercenaries who scraped together money by every possible means, sharing spoils as contracted fighters, capturing soldiers to sell as prisoners or slaves, or leaking and selling intelligence, commanders of each faction were walking gold mines. The risks were high, but the rewards were worth it.

Matthias traveled with them naturally, gathering information as he went. The target of the mercenary band he had temporarily attached himself to happened to be the same as his own. If he stayed with them, things would proceed smoothly.

Eager to end the war and return, he had been stuck in the rear for too long, only to be caught in a counterattack, his frustration pushed to its limits. Once he learned that the man he intended to kill soon was behind it, he felt no restraint at all. His unit had been annihilated, the few survivors scattered. While the newfound freedom from operational constraints was convenient, it did nothing to spare Hermann’s life.

Planning to remove Hermann first and then collect the heads of the barbarian commanders as trophies, Matthias infiltrated a mercenary band and became part of the combat force attached to Hermann’s subordinate unit. From them, he heard news of Eisenwald.

“Something went wrong during the mission. The target woman escaped, or so they say. She was badly injured in the process.”

“The commander ordered that she be captured without a single scratch, but they say she was wounded badly enough to be at death’s door. He flew into a rage over that, and we got beaten senseless even though it had nothing to do with us.”

“Who is she, anyway?”

“They say she is the lady of Eisenwald.”

“The lord of Eisenwald was married?”

“Apparently. Who cares? Anyway, things got tangled and she was seriously hurt. Still, luckily, she lived. If she had crossed the river of death… just thinking about it is horrifying.”

It was obvious who they meant by the lady of Eisenwald. Listening with an expressionless face, the boy’s eyes sharpened.

After approaching Hermann’s encampment, he waited silently for nightfall. As darkness settled, he killed a guard, took his armor, and disguised himself. Helmet pulled low, he entered Hermann’s camp, located the commander’s tent, and killed the two soldiers standing watch. He removed his blood soaked helmet and set it on the ground.

Because it was the quiet hour before dawn, the clatter of metal rang unnaturally loud.

“Who goes there?”

The tent flap was pulled aside. In the soft glow of a lamp, Hermann narrowed his eyes at the dark silhouette. Who would dare enter the commander’s tent without permission? Then he heard it.

“That time.”

The calm voice was familiar. As recognition struck, Hermann’s face twisted and he drew his sword.

But the intruder was faster. The moment Hermann unsheathed his blade, the man at the entrance was already behind him. Feeling a presence directly at his back, Hermann’s face drained of color.

“I should have broken your neck, not your legs.”

The words, spoken in a restrained voice, were chilling. They dragged up a buried memory from deep within Hermann’s mind. The day his legs were destroyed without him ever seeing his attacker. The helpless terror of being utterly overwhelmed crept back in.

W-when?

He had not even been able to follow the movement with his eyes. Realizing that this was something irrational and monstrous, he froze as a cold hand closed around his throat. Though the grip carried no apparent force, he knew instinctively that a slight squeeze would twist his neck apart.

Crushed by fear, Hermann swallowed hard, cold sweat streaming down his back. He could not even think of resisting. What he felt now was absolute powerlessness.

“It is unfortunate things turned out this way,” the voice said, “but perhaps it is fortunate that I no longer need to go along with that person’s misplaced mercy.”

Hermann swallowed hard.

“Well, even if my master tried to stop me, I intended to kill you anyway.”

The voice carried a hint of laughter, but no joy. It was nothing like a year ago. The ragged, awkward child had vanished. There was no trace of immaturity left.

He looked exactly like the nightmare Hermann had once feared. Odelliana had picked up a beast cub, and that fully grown beast was now baring its fangs at him and his family. It did not take long for Hermann to realize that this was no fantasy.

“W-why would you go so far for Odelliana…?”

Facing death, the words that escaped Hermann were not pleas for mercy, but a baffled doubt he could not let go of.

With this level of skill, what was lacking that this boy would cling to Odelliana and even drift onto the battlefield for her sake? What was a crippled woman worth that he would endure such hardship?

Is this thing even human?

He barely dared to breathe. His heightened instincts screamed that the being behind him might not be human at all.

Turning deathly pale, Hermann dropped his weapon and raised both hands.

“I-I am her blood relative. So let us talk first–”

The hand tightened in an instant. The crushing grip stole his breath, and as his vision swam, he flailed desperately. Blood rushed to his head, and his legs felt strangely weightless. Only then did he realize he was dangling in the air by his neck.

“Family?”

“Ghk!”

“I have no intention of allowing her such a burden.”

Even as he suffocated, Hermann found the answer deeply unsettling. Allowing? That was not how a subordinate spoke of his superior. A knight who was supposedly nothing more than a tool beneath a crippled woman was speaking as though she rested in the palm of his hand.

The thought had barely formed when the boy drew his smooth black blade and swung without hesitation.

“Aaaagh!”

Something tore free and flew through the air. It did not take long to realize it was his right hand. Screaming in agony, Hermann’s eyes rolled back.

The boy let out a low laugh and swung again. Blood sprayed as another limb flew off. His left hand. The clean cut spoke volumes about his skill. Confronted with how easily the human body could be dismembered, Hermann moaned in terror and began to beg.

“Aaagh! P-please, spare me. Please…”

“The one you should be begging is not me.”

“Argh!”

This time, his left foot was severed.

“Begging now does not erase your sins.”

His right foot was cut away.

“There is no reason to leave future trouble alive.”

Then his head dropped cleanly to the ground.

Thud. The mutilated corpse collapsed to the floor. Bathed in blood, the boy kicked the severed right foot away and surveyed the ruined tent with a dry expression. Leaning against the table, he took a cigar resting there and lit it.

Gray smoke clouded his vision. Perhaps because of his young body, the taste was especially harsh and unpleasant. He crushed the ember out against the table.

She was badly injured. Still, they say she lived.

A crack appeared in his impassive face. Even after killing his target, he felt no relief. The thought of her being hurt made him want to run to Eisenwald immediately.

He regretted not killing the man sooner. Leaving alive someone undeserving of his master’s mercy had come back to this. Catering to a woman who was unfailingly kind and unbearably fragile, matching her every step, was far more exhausting than it should have been.

“Hah…” He exhaled irritably and tightened his grip on his sword once more.

“Who is there!”

Awakened by the disturbance, soldiers poured in and surrounded Matthias.

“Y-you are…”

Some seemed to recognize his face, but he did not care. He had no intention of leaving a single one alive.