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Blind Judgment
47 - Lost Regret

47 - Lost Regret

My right cheek ached, and it was hard to breathe.

Those were the first sensations that assaulted me as I woke, and then everything else crashed into me like a wave. Tiny pebbles dug into the skin of my face, which was heavily pressed against the stone ground, and a metal collar was clamped too tight around my neck.

My hands were tied behind my back, shoulders burning from the forced position. A fog still permeated my brain, and I felt like I had slept too long and was still not grounded in reality.

I was definitely not on the island.

When a voice to my left greeted me, I didn't flinch. What more was there to be alarmed of when I was tied up like this?

"You're finally awake." I didn't recognize the speaker. Flipping to my side, I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Rakfall," the man answered. So, I'd been right. This kingdom had orchestrated the attack, and I assumed there had been more people on the boats that had captured me after I'd fallen.

"Why did I not wake on the ship?" I questioned, as my injuries hadn't seemed to be enough to keep me dead to the world for weeks.

"You're a hard man to find, Cain," he said instead of answering.

"I wasn't trying to hide." He laughed, a sharp thing. "If it was so difficult for you, how did you find me in the end?" I continued.

"We have an alliance with the Raugan Islands, who assured us they weren't behind the attack on the King. You were recognized at the auction on Agren, the main island. They immediately got word to us through someone skilled at communication."

I breathed out, the sound dry. Despite waking, I still felt groggy, and my head was slightly throbbing. Then, with a start, I noticed my mana core was almost entirely empty, and as I watched, the shallow pool never grew.

"So this is because of the King. Why do you believe I did it?" I was nothing to this kingdom. To think they’d care enough to mobilize an entire army for me, all based on an untrue claim. I wondered if those that came were only a fraction of Rakfall’s force, as I’d never took the time to really understand the size of this place. It seemed extremely stupid to send away every soldier, and leave the kingdom undefended.

"We have a skilled agent of the former crown who uncovered Fredrick's and your plan, but unfortunately, only after the deed had been done," he told me, smug.

Frederick? So he'd been ratted out as well. Had it been by Olmor, or someone else? I asked, feeling a sliver of curiosity. But some part of me already knew he was the one behind it all.

He thought for a moment, before responding. "I see no reason why not to tell you, since you have no one else backing you up. It was Olmor, a skilled officer in the army."

My eyebrows rose. This man didn't think I knew Olmor, so he had deceived everyone well. Why had he wanted the King dead? Based on the overwhelming force that had come for me, he was more liked than Olmor had suggested.

The man was a double agent, and I wondered where his true loyalties lied. Definitely not with the former King, but I wondered what outcome he had wanted.

The fallout of the King's death seemed greater than Olmor had anticipated since, in the end, he'd placed the blame on Frederick and me; but this also could've been a part of his plan right from the start.

"What happened to Frederick?"

"He's no longer in this world," the man told me, clearly expecting my despair. I felt nothing hearing about Frederick's death and nothing regarding my own inevitable end.

"Why would you send so many soldiers after me? Did you not see that as overkill?" I asked, the question burning at me.

This time, his voice was hollow. "It was still almost not enough. We knew of Gaven's presence; in the event that he returned, we prepared the full army. No one expected you to kill them all," he spat.

I shrugged at his answer. He had caught me off guard, and it seemed I had returned the favor. "What now?"

He hummed in contemplation. "You'll be put in front of the people, as they've been waiting for you to be caught. Then, you'll follow Frederick to the grave."

So, a show of competency awaits. A monarchy that can't accomplish anything is not one a person would willingly follow. I shrugged again, and the man grew frustrated.

"Nothing to say?" he asked harshly.

I chuckled. "You've been deceived just as much as I have," I told him. Olmor had played us all.

***

I spent two more days in the cell. The metal cuffs around my wrists were too strong for me to break, especially as I grew weaker from lack of food and water. Even if I could escape the restraints, I had no idea where to go and how many guards were in this prison.

I found that the collar around my neck was the culprit behind the loss of mana. As soon as a drop of it formed, the metal would leech the power out of my body, so fast it had taken me a while to notice.

Another man came for me then, and this time I knew him.

“We meet again,” Olmor greeted.

My indifference seemed to shatter, so suddenly it made my teeth ache. Blood dripped down my hands where my fingernails had cut the skin open; I couldn’t understand.

“What happened after I left?” I asked as evenly as I could.

He sighed, shoes scraping against stone. “We used another in your place. He didn’t last long as the first distraction, as we’d been betting on you to keep the King occupied for much longer. After that, Frederick and the others finished the job.”

“So, I was never expected to do it myself in the first place.”

“Correct.”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that? If I knew backup would’ve come, the chances I’d actually accept would’ve been higher,” I said.

“We thought you would do it,” Olmor sneered. “And based on your actions, you would’ve run anyways. The chances of you surviving in a faceoff against the King were already low; we just needed his attention completely focused on you.”

“And you thought I was the best fit for that job.”

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“Correct again.”

But they still succeeded, even though I’d left. So why? Why pin the blame on me?

“You got what you wanted, and I won’t ask why. But what was the reason for bringing me back into this? Did you really need to convince whoever you needed to that I did it? And why Frederick?”

Olmor sighed again. “Must you need to know everything?” My lips pulled back in a snarl at his exasperated tone. I thought I deserved at least this much. “Fine. Frederick died in the attack, so it was easy to pin him as the perpetrator. But no one would believe that he simultaneously killed the King while dying.”

As he continued, I could hear the smile in his voice. “And you so suspiciously disappeared the night he died, really making it too simple to blame you. Everyone believed it; a man who suddenly appeared one day from god knows where, with motives unknown, and who suddenly escapes as soon as his plans are executed. You were just the perfect fit.”

My skin had begun to itch. “Why come after me? Couldn’t everyone just forget what you said I’d done?” I asked.

“Unrest,” he said simply. “The man I work for became King, but that doesn’t just make all the problems disappear. Many wanted your head.”

“Those are the only reasons? I would’ve been forgotten very quickly.”

Olmor laughed. “I might’ve been displeased that you lied to me.”

This fucking bitch. I didn’t think I’d ever experienced anger this intense before. It burned at my chest and made my stomach roll.

How many people had Olmor lied to? How many had he double crossed?

“So many died because of you,” I accused.

“That was an unfortunate miscalculation.”

I said nothing. There was really nothing else I could say. He planned this, and there was no turning back now. His actions from weeks ago were now a thing of the past. And he had killed me for such a petty reason. What would’ve happened if I had stayed?

I didn’t care anymore.

Olmor tapped on the metal of the prison bars, humming. “We’re already running late, but I thought it’d be fine to let you ask your questions. Get up.”

I didn’t move, waiting as Olmor unlocked the cage. His steps echoed, and he dragged me up by the elbow, patience quickly gone.

We went up two flights of stairs, and then he pushed open a door. Sunlight hit my face, its warmth belying what was to come. The roar of a crowd raised to a height I'd never heard before, the sounds no longer human.

I was pushed forward, my foot hitting something wooden.

"Go up," Olmor demanded. I sighed, yielding. There was no strength to fight. The wooden stairs creaked with every step, bending with my weight. One, two, three, four, five.

Another hand grabbed me when I reached the top, and the cuffs around my hands were released. The relief didn't last long, as my arms were quickly yanked around a wooden pole before they were tied up again.

So, I wasn't being hanged, nor would my head be cut off. A steel boot kicked my knees, and they cracked as I hit the ground. This new man yelled something at the crowd, but I didn't bother trying to understand his words. The people screamed even louder at his announcement, and I wondered if I would die now.

This time, I was no longer the Executioner.

However, it seemed it wasn't the time for my death as I heard a whip crack through the air to the left of me. I had a second to brace, stiffening up my muscles before the first hit came. It cut open my skin, and the burning pain only came after.

I could only be grateful it was just leather, and no barbs decorated the weapon. The next followed a minute after, and the cheers grew louder. I gritted my teeth, the sensation like none I had ever felt.

The air cracked like a gunshot; this hit was even more brutal than the last. I could now feel the wetness of blood trickling down my undamaged skin. My back bowed involuntarily, leaving a greater expanse exposed to the punishment.

Every hit left a line of ice, burning past muscle until it froze my bones and made them groan. Such pain, it made my shoulders rise and my ears feel like they were being torn off.

Soon, I lost count. Nothing paused; neither the whip nor the crowd took a breath of air. Still, all I could do was endure. That was simple, but the pain made it challenging. It seemed my endurance was not nearly enough to make this easier.

My forehead was roughly pressed into the wooden beam, and through my haze, I noticed the pained. His clawed feet were clear in the fog of my brain. I looked up, and his eyes were bleeding like always.

One scream of the crowd broke through the indistinguishable roar, and the pained turned his head toward the noise.

"You killed my son!"

This mother's voice was not angry—only sorrow and anguish filled her words. The pained turned back to me, the trickle of blood turning into a flood.

Are you here for them, or for me? I thought, and he only shook his head. More yells accompanied each slice of the whip until I could not determine whether the pain in my chest was from the words or the weapon.

Was it my fault? Those soldiers had come to me, and with so many deployed, they must've expected some to die. I hadn't asked for it, and I hadn't searched for war. I would never feel guilty for killing, I knew. The ache came from something else.

What was it like, to care so much for someone else? I had always been aware that something was broken in me, but I'd never resented it. I hated this feeling. This… longing was foreign. Strength was the only thing I pursued; now, it felt like I wanted something else.

I snarled up at the pained. The whip making my back a mess of flesh and blood was not why he had appeared. Compared to the burning in my heart, that was nothing.

"Do not pity me," I hissed out. "There is nothing that deserves my regret."

He shook his head again, crouching in front of me. His huge but thin hand reached out, landing on my sweaty chest. It was warm, unlike the priest's. Such a contrast to the sea of agony that was my back, all the skin seemingly ripped off.

His deep voice rumbled through me, traveling through the hand on my skin. "Have we had enough? Do we wish to stay in darkness?"

I let my head hang. Then, with conviction, I spoke. "It will be enough when I am dead."

Easily, I ignored his second question. This darkness wasn't something to fear or resent. Those feelings would only waste time, and in this bloody world, the blackness surrounding me was like a blessing. The pained knew this, but I could hear a longing in his words. It seemed like a weakness to me.

In that regard, it was a weakness in me, and I did not know how to snuff it out.

The people surrounding me had gone quiet, and only then did I notice the whipping had stopped. I lifted my head, rolling my shoulders to feel the numbing ache. I was surprised I was still conscious, given the duration of the punishment.

But again, it was nothing. Any physical suffering could be endured until my heart finally stopped. Only then would the pain win.

My hands were removed from around the pole, then cuffed in front of me this time. I couldn't stand; my legs were completely paralyzed. With a curse, the man with the whip threw me over his shoulder.

I groaned as his shoulder dug into my stomach, sending a spear of torment straight to my back. Every step of his jostled me, and it was years before I was dropped to the stone floor of my cell. He left, and Olmor cleared his throat at his arrival. I couldn’t muster anything to care that he was back.

"Tomorrow, you'll be taken to the pit, along with a few other prisoners. Thanks for the show," he blithely said before his steps echoed away.

His words slightly puzzled me. Why would I be executed in Lifdol's arena? I'd thought they would take me to the same place as today to be hanged or beheaded. Perhaps it was to be a show, like all the fights I had fought inside its walls.

I laid on my side, each breath making my back throb. Drops of blood hit the stone, each splash taking away some of my energy. If I had wanted to escape, there was no way I could now.

I'd been robbed of energy and mana, and I had never been this frail—even on Earth. I once again tasted defeat, but still, the corners of my lips curled. At least I'd gone out with a bang.

My flames had reached a height I never thought I would see, and I only wished I had enough power to burn my body; it would be the last slap in the face of this kingdom. I wished for retaliation, but now I could only be passive.

Gaven crossed my mind, and I wondered if he had known. Did he leave, expecting this? It wouldn't surprise me. Perhaps the God he served knew and lured him away on purpose. The timing seemed too perfect. Knowing him, he wouldn't have wanted to interfere in something that he deemed fated to happen. It was likely nothing would change, anyways.

I would die in the end. Resenting Gaven didn't seem possible, even if he did know how things would turn out for me. Instead, I wanted to thank him one last time for all he'd done. He was the one person in this world who had never purposefully dragged me down, and the only one who willingly helped me, looking for nothing in return.

He was the only one, I tried to convince myself. I couldn’t bear to think of the other.

Gaven’s life on Earth was something I was still curious about, but I understood I would never hear about it. There were a lot of things I would never know. Still, regret did not come. Everything would burn up in the end. Death was only the final stop—and dying was the day worth living for.