Chapter 38

Brian Reed hung in a chamber deep beneath Laurent's mansion. His body swayed in the air, mutilated, his face beyond recognition, and his heart—torn from his chest and lynched in the center of the room—pierced by a thick tendril of green gooey mass. Wet redness flowed upon the tendrils.

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

The heart pulsed angrily, every beat making the room vibrate and Brian Reed twist in pain. The nerves that connected the heart to the body were still attached, tense—like a band of rubber—and ready to snap at any moment.

A green glow emanated from the heart. Its shape was twisted, and a minty crystal protruded from it—shaped like a mass of twisted organic tissue.

The chamber’s door opened. A shadow strode inside, whistling. The shadow’s hand held a knife that spun with great finesse.

"Ah! The boy somehow still maintains sanity."Shadow clapped, but there was no sound. Shadow’s voice was raspy and dry—like scrap metal being scraped. Brian, of course, was beyond the point where he could cringe—or ‘it’ would be a more appropriate term—for its form lacked the quality to be called a human; a mass of mutilated organism it was. A fate far worse than death.

"I wonder—do you regret crossing that Level 6?" Shadow ‘hmmed’ as it mused about the fate of the boy. "Well, I cannot comprehend incorrigible gurgles. Yes, I will take it as

Shadow chuckled, hunched over a tentacle, and shoved it up. It observed the red sap with its completely red eyes. Shadow’s lips widened, and the hundreds of sharp canine teeth glittered in joy.

It opened its mouth and chewed on the tentacles. Every chomp made the mass, which was once Brian, twist in agony. The green organism that was alien to Brian’s body and whose tendril was being feasted upon remained completely indifferent.

Shadow sucked the green pus that glowed from the thick tendril—it blanched and let go of the thick tendril that would slowly regrow.

"Well, it's sad that this is all that you were worth—such a waste; I had hoped you would last another month. But, Iroh, Iroh has already formed; you were a good vassal."

Shadow chuckled again at a joke no one understood: "You were a really good Vassal. To follow all the orders your Lady gave you, even while staring at a Level 6 with a Lord's soul—your dedication is applaudable," Shadow applauded. "Even while your brother died, wanting to replace him with every ounce of your being, you stayed firm to the orders Laurent whispered in your ears. I must say—she is one blessed noble; it's not every day you get a dedicated vassal."

Shadow encircled it, observing all the eaten-up tendrils that were reforming. "Heck, even I would give in against a Level 6 while being a Level 2. Or, when brutalized by a Level 5 But, as they say, the virtue of the weak is their indomitable will—even now, you hope to serve Laurent."

Those words produced a large garbled cry, and the heart pulsed with a burst of energy as if trying to free itself.

"Such loyalty—if you were born a Lancaster’s Vassal, you would have received all the love your loyalty should. Alas! This is not Lancaster. The only thing you will get here is misery."

Shadow’s form elongated; it rose to the height of the lynched heart.

"Hmm... I must say, this is one fine Iroh—perhaps it can even reach Level 6." Shadow’s smile widened even more, and it let out a boisterous laugh. The green organism glowed in its joy.

"You will get a reward, a very sweet and deserving reward—you get to kill that pesky little vermin who dares to call itself Lord but loses its composure the moment it feels any mental anxiety." Shadow sighed, "I shall use your body to extract the price for humiliating me—twice. Are you excited to kill Iris, dear Brian?"

The door closed, and the horrifying shriek let out by the mass that was once Brain reached even outside the mansion.

…

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Iris felt warm—so warm that she had not known it existed. She was glad she gave in to the need for warmth despite her distrust that Diantha was using her for her own benefit.

The sweet scent of flowers filled the air as a gust of wind passed by in the garden.

Iris scooted closer to Diantha’s body.

They were all in the garden. Ilona sat on the grass with Hecate’s head on her lap, who had just succumbed to sleep. A frown on her face.

Iantha sat beside Ilona; she was smiling. The source of her joy was, of course, Winny. Even this husk could bring joy to people, Iris thought. Winny was in Iantha’s lap, stretching lazily, and Iantha was feeling her soft fur. She looked peaceful and unafraid. Iris felt proud that she noticed the slave band before the match was over. Even if a little, she contributed to the warm feeling Iantha gave off right now.

Diantha tickled her stomach, making her squirm. This was another thing she felt for the first time. She laughed and squirmed. Her body wanted to get away from the ticklish feeling, but she did not. She felt great.

"What were you thinking?" Diantha asked. She was sitting on a chair in the garden, beneath a very beautiful tree with red leaves. Iris did not know its name.

"Nothing."

Iris was on her lap, snuggling like a little cat. And she was glad she agreed to this, even if she was skeptical at first. For the first time, she was glad to have a small body; it allowed her to not make Diantha uncomfortable even if she stayed like this.

"I can see your smirk; there’s definitely something you were thinking."

Diantha tickled her again. Iris tried to hold on to her laughter. Of course, exercising such control as Level 6 should be easy. But Iris refrained from giving in to the temptation. This was not a battle after all.

"I’ll not stop until you speak out."

"T-haha, that’s unfair; stop... hahaha," Iris muttered. She did not want to tell her; that was embarrassing to even think about.

…..

Diantha gave up when Iris started to struggle out of her hold. She adjusted Iris and looked down at her red face; it was red due to laughing.

"I’m even more curious now—what were you thinking?"

"Nothing."

"Stubborn child." Diantha sighed. She needed to give in. Diantha was not sure what she would say or do; that might push Iris too far.

Diantha’s head snapped as a sharp sound came at her. She saw something coming at her neck. A knife. Diantha concluded. She could only laugh at this childish effort. It would be someone dissatisfied with belonging to the slum or the Mercenary’s Guild. No one else would really try something futile.

Usually, it was Jasper or Viktor who would intercept this kind of projectile, but Jasper was busy with a task she instructed him to do. And Viktor was in the mansion, 5 minutes away from here.

It was Iris who caught the knife. Her bizarre ball manifested in front of Diantha’s face and swallowed the dagger.

"A message?" Diantha quizzically asked as she noted the bizarre words on the knife’s hilt.

"It is for me," Iris replied as the ball spat out the knife in her hand.

"Heh," Iris grinned. Diantha could get used to seeing Iris being confident and smiling. The last few days had changed her view of Iris drastically. She was a child—a hurt child who needed someone she could show her scars to.

Diantha knew she was the only one who could fulfill that role. Because Iris was level 6, anyone with whom she got close would attempt to gain something. And Iris was afraid of that happening. Diantha saw and felt firsthand how afraid Iris was of that feeling.

She regretted her decision to disqualify Iris. It was for no other reason than to give Laurent a little panic. She could easily force Ilona to make Iris quit. She had not expected Hecate to share about the raven. And not a complete story, just that part that gave Iris the wrong impression. Diantha would clear up that misunderstanding later. Right now, Iris is calm and happy. So was Hecate; she wanted to stay like this until the night. She would tell Iris about Hecate’s problem in the evening.

"Did you receive a confession letter from a boy?" Diantha asked in jest. Of course, if that were true, then she would need to take strict action against the insolent boy.

"I did," Iris affirmed, her voice so confident. Diantha tilted her head; she thought Iris was incapable of such emotions. Well, not incapable, just not something Iris needed in her life.

"Oh? From whom?" Diantha asked as she placed her chin on Iris’s head without putting any weight on it. Iris was fragile.

"The unassuming boy—he wants to have a second round," Iris said; she sounded extremely excited. A spark rose from her hand and turned the dagger into nothingness.

"I see…" Diantha did not find that exciting; it was a trap.

"He asked me to come to the corridor, which leads to Laurent’s waiting room."

"A trap," Diantha concluded.

"An advantageous terrain for him. I’m a caster; a short and narrow space like that is worst for me," Iris did not sound like she cared about said disadvantage.

"And you will be surrounded by people from every side. You will have to control your spell damage accordingly. Today, the Coliseum will have the highest attendance.

"I’m sure Lady Ilona can create a barrier that would stop our battle from leaking outside." Iris looked at Ilona.

"Sure… but, will it be it or the puppet?"

"Puppet, of course. He is a coward.

"Then, is it even worth it?" Ilona mused. Diantha could not fathom their conversation. It was a blatant trap; it could not be more obvious. Not to mention, Iris just admitted she was at a disadvantage. Yet their only concern was whether their opponent would use a puppet or not.

"If he has sent an invitation, I would like to believe he has something to back it up."

"Sure—I’ll erect a barrier. Go wild."

"Hey! You’re not going to watch my battle?" Hecate asked.

Diantha could tell that Hecate was trying her best to appear as she always does, cheerful and unconcerned. But she could see Hecate’s inner turmoil. She has raised Hecate; she knew even better than Ilona to what extent Hecate could go.

She would do anything to not kill the raven. Diantha needed to have another talk with her. She needed to make sure that Hecate did not use her soul as the catalyst for victory, no matter what. That was the most undesirable outcome.

"I will; if he wishes for a battle, it would be after your match is over."

"Yahoo!!"