“How disappointing.”
The old man said with a voice lacking any emotion. No remorse, no anger just an ice and cold-filled void. Duncan’s eyes traveled between the old man and his fallen comrades. This wasn’t a fight, it was just a slaughter. He was on his knees. His body had the strength to stand up. But he didn’t. He was afraid. Duncan was called a Monster Slaughterer. He has been hunting monsters as long as he could walk. He could easily snap a bear into two with his bare hand. And yet the old man standing in front of him wasn’t a monster.
“When I heard about you I expected more.”
The old man was lightly armored. He had a simple chest plate protecting his vitals. It was connected to his pauldrons with belts. He wore heavy boots that went up nearly to his knees. His grey neck-long hair tousled with the cold wind yet he didn’t seem to be bothered by it.
“Yet you were only a brute.”
He clicked his tongue. His grey beard was slightly long and thick, covering his face. Despite that it was well-groomed. He carried two swords, both hanging from his hip. Duncan shuddered when he looked at them. They were the weapons that cut down his comrades just a moment ago after all. To avoid seeing them he lifted his head and faced the old man. His eyes met with ice blue eyes and he turned his head to the side.
“A piece of shit. Worthless. Just a waste of space.”
That’s what his eyes told Duncan. Duncan bowed his head to the ground. He heard the man coming closer to him.
“Still, you have some potential. Sign a Geass with me and I will spare you life.”
He still had his hands on his back. When Duncan didn’t answer he put his right hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t have a lot of patience.”
Duncan looked back at the group. More specifically to Poyraz. A brat. He couldn’t be older than 16. But Duncan felt nervous when he looked at him. When he first met him he thought he was just an ass licker. A lucky bastard who managed to get on a noble’s good side. He was sure he would just die when they first entered the dungeon. And yet, he pulled his own weight. No crying, no bitching. He fought against monsters and even came up with strategies for defeating tougher monsters. He even took the command and Duncan knew his success wasn’t a fluke. Duncan had a lot of experience raiding dungeons. He saw countless leaders.
“Hey! It is your time to watch!”
Knight called him. He left his tent and sat down outside, in front of the campfire.
Most leaders didn’t even have a loud and clear enough voice to control their group when they weren't in combat. Yet, that bastard could just yell out orders. Duncan knew something like that couldn’t happen unless one had a lot of experience leading people in combat.
“He can’t have that much experience.”
He was just a young peasant boy! Even the scar on his eye didn’t make him look older! Duncan sighed.
Even with all of the things he witnessed, he could say it was luck. It was just a fluke. He could have tricked himself to think like that. But what happened last time was the last straw. Duncan knew that boy couldn’t use mana. If he could, he would have used it when he was fighting. Yet he didn’t, even when he was surrounded by monsters.
That’s why Duncan released all of his mana when the boy talked back at him. Normally, if someone like him released all of his mana to someone without any mana, they would crumble due to pressure created by mana.
And yet, boy didn’t even flinch. He wasn’t bothered by all that enormous mana. Even the knight and priestess looked shocked when he released his mana yet the boy who was closer to him didn’t care at all.
“Could it be?”
Maybe he was a bodyguard. He had some kind of item hiding his mana and outer appearance. Duncan gulped. Maybe that old man was expecting him to betray? Find a loophole in the Geass? That’s why he sent an assassin to kill him if he ever gets out of line? Maybe that’s why he was so loyal to Blanche. Duncan had to be careful. He remembered what he said:
“One day that Geass will end. Watch your back after that.”
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If what he was thinking was the truth he shouldn’t have said that. He bit his lower lip. If that boy was really an assassin or a bodyguard hired by that old man he couldn’t be normal. Duncan bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
Meanwhile:
A pained moan left Blanche’s lips. Her already white skin was ghost white.
“I should get Agatha.”
I said and got up to leave the tent. However, her hand grabbed me. Her grip was weak. So weak that her hand slipped without me moving.
“No. Can’t…”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her magical crest thingy shone. It was so bright that I could see it through her clothes. She clung to me. I could easily break her grip yet, I pulled her closer to me.
“What the fuck are you doing, Poyraz?”
A voice inside of me my head asked me. I paid no attention to it. Her body was freezing. She was so cold that just touching her made me shiver. Despite that, I let her weakly nuzzle into my chest.
“WhAt ThE fUcK Is sHe DoInG?”
A panicked voice rose as her body pressed to mine. It wasn’t the only thing risi-
“Blanche, you are not good. I should call other-“
She cut me off by pressing her index finger to my lips.
“I… Will… Be… Fine.”
Pauses between her words and her whispering voice made it hard to believe her.
“Your body is dangerously cold. If this keeps up…”
“Tell me about your hometown.”
She hugged me tighter. Was she trying to get warmer with my body heat? I sighed. I should call Agatha.
Okay, Poyraz think. She is not a good person. You are not loyal to her. You only got close to her because you were a spy. With her current condition, she can’t help us to clear the dungeon. We have only 3 floors left, 8th, 9th, and 10th. Even without Blanche, we could easily clear this dungeon.
Why? Why do I feel like I owe her? No, debt isn’t what I was feeling. Passion? Love? Pity?
“I was born in a village. My grandfather and his grandfather were farmers.”
I caressed her hair. It was soft. Her breathing got softer as my hand moved.
“My father was a carriage driver. Or at least similar to that.”
What I felt right now was similar to what I felt toward Larve. That thought took me back to a long time ago.
“You know, you tell me that I wasn’t born to be a soldier but aren’t you the same?”
“Huh?”
Lily’s question caught me off guard. I lifted my head from the kids we were giving snacks to and looked at him.
“Don’t you prefer this?”
He said as he pointed towards the army of children looking at us, waiting to receive the snacks we gave out.
“Explain further because how you put it doesn’t sound good.”
Lily stopped for a second.
“Look, I know I also use jokes to cope. But you should know shit is serious when I talk seriously.”
“Just spit it out.”
“You feel like a part of you is lost every time you battle, right? You hate it. I… Worry about you.”
“I just do what is needed, Lily.”
I turned my face away from him. I didn’t like what he told me because deep inside I knew it was the truth. When I was young I dreamed of being a hero. Fight, win and be a hero. Save humanity. Just remembering those dreams made me bittersweetly laugh.
Nobody dreams of their fallen comrades. Their screams as they get ripped apart. Their innards are everywhere.
Nobody dreams of dying civilians. Children and old. People you couldn’t save. People that died waiting for help to come.
Nobody dreams of survivors. Mentally and physically wounded and crippled. Starving and shelterless.
Nobody dreams of their own wounds. Their own death. Their own modifications and enhancement cause pain so bad that they can’t even close their own eyes for entire nights.
I hate fighting. I hate war. I hate being a warrior. I hate being stuck as a soldier.
Can’t I just show compassion to other living beings? Living beings that feel sadness, pain, anger, and happiness like me. Why does there always need to be pain? Why do I have to keep walking on this pain-filled road? I raised my head. The only thing I could see was the roof of the tent.
“And that’s how I learned how to make a bow.”
Blanche was asleep. Her face looked better and her body was warmer. Good. Because I was fucking freezing due to how close she was to me. The only things I did were just let her hug me, and tell her stories while caressing her hair but she looked like she was getting better.
“Why was I had to born with this glass heart?”
I asked myself but no answer came.