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Chapter : 64
Mercenary Corps
Benjamin removed his outer cloak and shook off the rainwater. The robe, soaked through, had grown heavy. The blood of monsters was washed away by the downpour, and the flames that had raged along the subjugation front were extinguished.
Roskelra glanced toward the bodies covered in white cloth and asked quietly,
“Are you all right?”
The victims’ bodies lay in a line—those of a mercenary corps that had been completely wiped out, and those sacrificed by black magic.
Nearby stood the Emperor and the intelligence officer.
“What do you mean by that?”
Benjamin sheathed his sword and murmured calmly,
“You look troubled.”
“It’s probably because their faces before death keep lingering in my mind.”
Why was that?
Benjamin repeated the thought to himself.
“That was their final plea before death. Why was it a cry to be killed?”
“You mean the victims of the spell?”
“In their final moments, they begged to be killed rather than live… and pleaded about a death from which they could not be saved. What kind of state of mind is that? Even as they resigned themselves to death, they worried about what would come after. That wasn’t a look asking to be saved.”
“Resigning oneself to death isn’t easy.”
“I’ve seen many kinds of death, but it never becomes easy. That look… it was someone who had accepted death, asking for salvation.”
Benjamin had rolled through countless battles on the subjugation front, nearly losing his life many times. That front was like the Empire’s bulwark against monsters.
Hundreds—thousands—of lives were lost, many forgotten and unremembered.
Some were buried at sea, their bodies never recovered. Others were laid to rest in nameless lands.
Until their final breath, the subjugation forces fought on the front lines, choosing to die alongside monsters if death was inevitable.
He had seen that much death.
Roskelra gently covered an ankle protruding from beneath the white cloth and replied,
“Black magic interferes with humanity’s origin—death itself. It pollutes the boundary between life and death. That’s why the Temple brands black magic as heresy: it disrupts order and law.”
“……”
“Death is an inherently ambiguous domain.”
Benjamin recalled the dead victim.
“Did you examine the body?”
“Yes. There were many wounds from monsters. The ankle bone was crushed, and the fact that they were placed on an altar as a sacrifice means—”
“They drained their life away. Has the extermination of the lower monsters finished?”
“Yes. This area has been cleared.”
The subjugation unit gathered before the cliff.
“Then we’ll begin the memorial rite.”
They honored the fallen and performed the ritual. Standing in a line before the annihilated mercenary corps, the soldiers drew their swords and extended the blades into the air.
Steel cut through empty space. Rain struck the flat of the blades, and the swords—held in solemn respect—came to a silent halt.
Benjamin lowered his own blade.
As he returned it to its sheath, he fixed the fallen in his gaze.
That mercenary corps had once exterminated a basilisk nest before. And now they were completely wiped out.
Twenty fallen.
He knew, because he had destroyed monster nests alongside them. This time was different from previous hunts.
The monster nests were denser. The basilisk’s scales were as hard as iron.
Even the hatchlings had grown more savage.
“The miasma in the restricted zone is thickening. The monsters are being affected.”
Benjamin tugged at his shirt collar, which felt suffocating.
“We should assume a criminal is manipulating the monsters.”
He plunged back into the subjugation front, drenched in monster blood.
A fierce clash followed.
His blade never rested as it severed monster after monster.
Even when dark clouds gathered and rain poured down at the battle’s end, not all the blood was washed away.
“Recover the fallen with full honors, to the very end.”
Benjamin reeked of thick blood. Though human, covered in gore and wielding his blade without pause, there was something about him that made the word human feel ambiguous.
“We should take shelter from the rain first.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’d rather let my head cool off like this.”
That was all Benjamin said.
“My head hurts.”
Charlophe pulled the trigger of her crossbow again and again.
Clack.
Clack.
The empty weapon rang hollow—its bolts spent.
In that brief opening—
The crow-like monster read the gap and screeched, beak wide open.
It folded its wings and dove, blasting scorching heat downward.
Charlophe slung the crossbow at her waist and drew her sword. The blade scraped coldly from its sheath.
She planted her feet heavily and tightened her grip.
A royal guard shouted in panic,
“Your Majesty! Be careful—!”
“My head hurts.”
Her pulse throbbed through the hand holding the sword. Veins stood out against her pale wrist.
Kraaak!
The blade settled into her hand as if familiar.
Black feathers turned to ash and drifted softly against her cheek.
She cut through the air, stepping lightly to avoid the monster that burst its own body as a spell sacrifice.
Moonlight soaked into the sword’s edge. The monster buried in darkness glared with only its eyes glowing red.
“They’re targeting only the children!”
“So that’s what it meant when he said to tear my child apart alive.”
A deep, creeping disgust welled up within Charlophe.
“It seems the child already knows his father tried to kill him.”
“What?”
“That child—who couldn’t even breathe freely—how could he not sense those around him?”
Blackness swallowed the scene.
“Even if you don’t want to know… it’s hard not to.”
Reading others, grasping situations—it was instinct.
A child pressed to the brink, hunted into corners, learns to read others to survive.
Black ash scattered on the wind.
“Ah…”
When the monster hunt ended—
Only ash remained where the lesser monsters had died.
“The extermination is nearly complete.”
All crow monsters had been destroyed.
“Then we’ll conclude the operation and strengthen patrols in nearby areas.”
The armored guards tightened their perimeter. Even lesser monsters had shown clear intent.
That child will never forget today.
The child had fainted in his mother’s arms, limp like a soaked clump of cotton.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Charlophe lightly flicked the child’s forehead.
“You don’t need to suffer.”
Those were the only words she could offer—words she had once wanted to say to herself as a child.
Of all things, he resembled her in that way, making it painful to look at him.
Stuffing yourself into a closet. Running away. Covering your ears. Closing your eyes.
A kind of escapism—believing that if you did so, you might disappear from the world.
“Are you… all right?”
Charlophe lowered her gaze. The child’s mother, Chloe, trembled weakly.
Hyperventilating, Chloe crushed her lips together, forcing herself to breathe.
Her sharp nails dug into her curly hair. Her reddened eyes brimmed with resentment and grief.
“Hhk—hngh!”
“Slow your breathing. Gasping only makes it harder to breathe.”
Chloe’s shoulders shook.
“H—huhk. Hff!”
“Summon the palace physician discreetly.”
Chloe stared vacantly, opening and closing her mouth.
“Isn’t it ridiculous? I thought I had everything. That clearing away the grave and erasing the traces of the dead would be enough. That the child’s father was just sick… I was foolish.”
“Regret?”
“If only it weren’t you. If you hadn’t been here, it would’ve been fine.”
Everything was ruined.
“It was wrong from the beginning. I never should’ve stepped into this place.”
Charlophe closed her eyes calmly.
“What should I do? What… how? Wasn’t everything for the child? For my child?”
“At least it wasn’t for that child. Don’t dress your greed up in pitiful excuses.”
Chloe’s eyes went slack. She didn’t even realize what she was saying.
Looking at her now, all resentment, hostility, malice—
Became meaningless.
Charlophe turned away, emotionless.
Behind her, desperate sobs erupted.
“Why—why? Please—my child—did he really try to kill him? No… no, that can’t be…”
“Why ask me for answers?”
Charlophe whispered softly.
“You’re clumsily cruel, and clumsily foolish. That’s why your insignificant life became clumsy too. That foolishness ruined you. You should’ve been ruthless instead. Half-measures only get swept away by the storm.”
The ending faded into nothing, old malice forgotten.
Was it this malice that had been carved away as she walked forward?
“Don’t cry.”
“……”
“For the child’s sake, endure it. If you endure long enough, an end will come.”
This, too, would pass.
“When everything is over, then leave.”
“Hngh—!”
“I’ll call the palace physician. Show him the child.”
Thus ended their twisted bond.
Charlophe left the estate grounds.
A guard moved beside her protectively.
“You seem especially soft around children.”
“He looks like me.”
“……”
“He resembled me in that way. That’s why I couldn’t look away.”
Her arms fell limply, muscles dull with exhaustion.
Each step felt languid.
As she walked, Charlophe looked down at her feet.
Everything was an illusion.
As blood pooled beneath her, her vision reddened.
The pitch-black world soaked in crimson, and the tendons in her wrist pulled taut.
Is it because of the torches?
Her steps looked red. It was an unsettling sensation.
A guard stepped forward to clear the path.
Her fingertips tingled. Her fingers trembled as she clasped her hands and pressed into her joints.
“I don’t recall saying you could follow me.”
A presence stirred behind her.
“Your Majesty. You must come with us.”
Charlophe closed her eyes quietly.
“Hah… hah… please… kill me. It hurts.”
A guard whispered, “She’s a victim consumed by black magic.”
“She’s one of the missing.”
Her skin was charred black, her pleas desperate.
Her breathing grew shallow as death approached.
Clawing at her throat, the woman gasped for air.
“Miss… mi—”
“Do not approach her, Your Majesty.”
The guards raised a barrier. Facing death, the woman begged forgiveness.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”
“……”
“I must tell you—before I die—ahhh!”
Charlophe stepped before the dying woman.
“Please be careful.”
“A black magic spell has been detected.”
“At the very least, I can’t turn away here. If I share even half the blood of the criminal who caused this, then bearing this responsibility is right.”
“You were disowned long ago. Removed from the registry. Why take on that burden—”
“I believed it was right for me to carry it.”
Charlophe stepped forward.
The woman stretched out her arms, scratching the ground.
“I confess my sins… please forgive me. Beg forgiveness… from the lady who died… please…”
She choked for breath.
“They say bodies tainted by black magic can’t be saved… am I going to die like this?”
Charlophe extended her arm.
“You are forgiven.”
“……”
“And if you are forgiven, then you will be saved. The imperial capital, sanctified by the Temple, has many priests who guide the souls of the dead.”
“Ah…!”
“You can close your eyes now.”
.
.
In the rear garden of the imperial residence, white cloth was laid out—
And a cold body was quietly covered.
