Chapter 17: Rondor’s Executioner – 5

Two knights brought a death row inmate before me.

I suppressed my heart, which felt like it was about to explode.

The approaching knights looked at my face.

Perhaps because of my earlier statement, the adults looked down at me, not bothering to hide their disgust.

I tried not to care.

It was a reaction I was somewhat used to.

In response to their hostility, I slightly tilted my chin to point toward the guillotine.

The knights forced the man to his knees in front of it.

“…Phew…”

Watching the condemned man lie prostrate, I quietly let out a sigh through barely parted lips, ensuring no one could hear.

Then I removed the sack that had been placed over the prisoner’s head.

The inmate, breathing heavily in his excitement, had a cloth gag in his mouth.

It was the attitude of someone who had realized death was near.

The vividness of his reaction made my hands tingle.

I unconsciously swallowed my saliva and looked around.

The people of Rondor were all watching my every move intently.

It felt as if they were observing to see whether I would falter or not.

There was no turning back now.

From afar, Scholar Crellin approached and showed me a document.

The execution order.

It listed the prisoner’s name and crime.

At the bottom of the document was Rondor’s seal.

It was the seal that Vivian had stamped.

Seeing the document, my chaotic mind began to settle slightly.

Vivian had already done her part.

I still remember how she trembled uncontrollably at the thought of killing someone.

I had even held her thin arm because I couldn’t just leave her like that.

I couldn’t stop here.

I placed the document on the ground.

Then, gripping the two-handed sword tightly with both hands, I inhaled deeply and proclaimed loudly,

“This criminal has forsaken human decency and committed the crime of threatening three women. By plundering, raping, and assaulting, he has disturbed the peace of the community and instilled fear. Under the name of Lady of Loctana, head of Rondor, and by the authority of Vivian Rondor, Kailo Alan, eldest son of the Alan family, I hereby sentence you to death.”

This formal declaration was my best effort to ease my guilt.

Hearing his crimes, it was clear that this man deserved to die.

But was it right for me to pass judgment?

I had no personal connection to this person.

I held no feelings toward him.

I didn’t hate him enough to cut off his head.

That’s why this execution felt so difficult.

Yet, I couldn’t stop.

Swoosh.

I untied the cloth gag in his mouth.

Drooling like a beast, he looked up at me.

I asked him,

“…Prisoner Derian. Any last words?”

“I-I’ll never do it again. P-please have mercy…”

The sight of the man trembling.

I gritted my teeth and looked up at Vivian.

She, too, was swallowing her fear, perhaps even more than I was.

Though we couldn’t speak, we could feel it.

No one here bore the responsibility for this man’s life.

Only Vivian and I did.

Vivian, too, was mustering her own courage.

Her wandering gaze toward me told me as much.

Her trembling hands clung tightly to the chair.

But that wasn’t enough.

‘…Don’t look away.’

I mouthed the words to her.

It was a message meant for me.

Only if she watched could I feel like I could do this.

Vivian’s eyes widened slightly.

“Hoo…!”

With a short exhale, I steeled my resolve.

I pushed my emotions aside for the moment, thinking only of what I had to do.

I raised the two-handed sword high.

“Hup!”

And then I swung the sword.

‘Next!’

The execution grounds grew ever quieter.

The crowd, which had boiled over at Kailo Alan’s provocation before the execution, was now chillingly subdued by his actions.

Anyone would be.

It was hard to find words for the grotesque spectacle of a 15-year-old boy, just entering adolescence, mercilessly beheading people.

Baelor was no different.

At first, he felt irritation and simmering anger toward Kailo Alan, but now that had changed.

His eyes were fixed on the boy’s actions with a complex gaze.

It seemed the same was true for his lieutenant, Todd.

Todd, who was always babbling with nonsense, was now silent.

No one in the courtyard dared mock Kailo Alan anymore.

Baelor had thought Kailo might manage to execute one person at best.

No matter how much a 15-year-old boasts, it’s just bravado.

A kid who’s never killed anyone can’t execute 20 people in one day.

Many knights probably thought the same.

Once Kailo swung the sword once and carried out an execution, he would realize the reality.

The neck doesn’t cut as easily as one might think, and the sickening sensation that follows is awful.

And when you fail to kill them in one stroke, the screams from the condemned are far more horrifying than you’d imagine.

Baelor thought Kailo would retract his words and give up after seeing the severed neck and smelling the stench of death, if he didn’t vomit first.

He had been looking forward to seeing Kailo tremble in fear.

But Kailo Alan showed none of the reactions Baelor had expected.

Maybe just a little at first.

Now, he was no different from a butcher.

No matter how much the condemned begged for mercy and struggled, he coldly swung the sword.

Without hesitation, he severed the necks of people he had no relation to.

Even when covered in blood and watching the condemned soil themselves in death, he didn’t so much as gag.

Baelor watched Kailo Alan.

He observed him resting the blood-soaked two-handed sword on his shoulder.

The 12th headless corpse was being dragged out of the execution grounds.

Kailo Alan looked at Baelor and spoke.

“Next.”

Baelor swallowed hard.

A faint shiver ran up his arms.

This was grotesque.

There were no other words to describe it.

Baelor’s belief had always been that people don’t change their nature.

…And now, looking at Kailo Alan, it felt like facing a young dragon.

The knights of the 1st Division dragged the next prisoner forward.

Kailo Alan turned back, preparing for the next execution.

Todd, standing beside Baelor, whispered,

“That… that guy’s crazy, isn’t he?”

“…Is it true this is the first time he’s killed someone?”

Baelor had killed his first person at the age of 23.

It was 15 years ago, but he still hadn’t forgotten that moment.

It had been during a small skirmish with the Eastern Kingdom.

Though he had killed an enemy soldier, the guilt of taking a life had left Baelor unable to properly grip his sword for days.

Though now killing came easily, it hadn’t been that way then.

But what about this kid?

Instead of stopping after killing just one, he seemed set on executing all 20 in a single day.

There appeared to be no fear in him.

Cold eyes.

Resolute demeanour.

Unhesitating movements.

What kind of monster was the Alan family raising?

Baelor had once heard rumors.

That the eldest son of the Alan family showed remarkable talent with the sword.

That the vassals of the Alan family were eager to praise him.

Some even said he was on par with Lois Rondor.

…But now he understood.

Kailo Alan was far more than that.

What would happen when such a monster matured?

Northern men grow big.

For a boy not yet fully grown to act like this, someday… surely, he could surpass even the famed undefeated knight, Jade Alan.

Kailo Alan was different.

He was strong.

He had the temperament.

Baelor, though resentful of the son of the undefeated knight, couldn’t help but feel admiration.

His emotions grew ever more tangled.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Kailo Alan for even a moment.

Vivian, too, silently gazed down at him.

His face and arms stained crimson from the splattering blood.

He was carrying out the task that Vivian had assigned him.

And he was doing exactly as he had said.

‘I can kill. If it’s something that needs to be done.’

He was getting it done.

Without hesitation.

Without trembling.

‘I told you I’d show you that you’re weak. That you wouldn’t have any excuses if you carried the same burden.’

And the more he acted, the more overwhelming his strength felt.

It was clear to everyone just who was strong and who was weak, simply from their actions.

Even the vassals who had once faintly disrespected Vivian were now astonished by Kailo Alan.

Behind Vivian, Treasurer Brynden whispered to Nestor, the spymaster.

“…At first, it seemed like he was hesitating… Was I mistaken?”

Nestor, a tall man in his early 30s with slanted eyes and a notorious hobby of prying into others’ secrets, nodded at Brynden’s words.

“…Judging by his actions, no one would believe this is his first time killing someone today.”

Lady Linne, too, whispered from behind.

“…His savage nature hasn’t gone away.”

“This scene goes beyond just savagery.”

Nestor replied.

As Nestor said, the word “savage” didn’t fully explain Kailo’s actions.

If anything, his formal declaration before the execution and his offer to hear the condemned’s last words seemed far removed from savagery.

But Nestor, stroking his chin with long fingers, spoke as if he knew everything.

“I’ve seen many people, and that boy seems like someone with a personality defect.”

“What do you mean?”

Lady Linne showed interest.

“There are a few like him. Those who can’t empathize with the emotions of others. Such people feel no guilt in killing and hesitate not even a bit. You could call them devil worshippers.”

As if talking about something filthy, Nestor’s voice was filled with disgust.

“That’s probably why his actions are so precise and without excess. Think about it. Doesn’t it make no sense? A fifteen-year-old cutting off someone’s head without a second thought.”

“…It does seem unbelievable.”

“There’s no resistance when it comes to killing. I’m sure he’s had plenty of experiences cruelly killing animals in his childhood.”

“I see. So, it’s typical of someone from the North, right?”

“That might be part of it, but Kailo Alan is a monster even among Northerners. Look at the people in the courtyard. Their faces are all painted with shock.”

Hearing those words, Vivian glanced at the gathered crowd.

Some maids had turned pale, and others were grimacing completely.

There were a few who cursed under their breath and some who seemed terrified by Kailo Alan’s actions.

They certainly looked as if they were facing a monster.

She could somewhat understand.

He wasn’t normal, after all, cutting off a person’s head as casually as slicing fruit and arguing with hundreds of people in enemy territory.

Vivian then looked at Kailo Alan.

She watched him, drenched in blood, catching his breath.

…A person who can’t understand the emotions of others?

…One who feels no guilt even in murder?

“…Monster?”

Vivian recalled the image of Kailo Alan, who had once steadied her trembling arm.

She also remembered the moment when he had honestly confessed that he was afraid of executing people.

Vivian hated Kailo Alan, but she wasn’t blind enough to believe Nestor’s words completely.

The man she faced directly was, at the very least, not the monster that everyone spoke of.

He was just a human who, like any other, felt fear when it came to killing someone.

He only possessed enough determination and courage to make the adults mistake him for someone fearless.

He said that, even when he was afraid, he had to act in order not to be dismissed by the adults.

…As he said, at the very least, Kailo Alan was not ignored.

Every time he executed someone, just by seeing how he looked up at her, it was clear that he was no different from any other human.

For some reason, although she didn’t know why, the act of him looking up at her felt like Kailo was gathering courage in his own way.

It was as if he was summoning the strength to kill, looking at her because he hated losing.

After all, he had vowed to prove that she was weak.

An invisible, strange exchange of emotions was happening between her and Kailo, something that no one else in the courtyard could sense.

It even crossed her mind that no one else could understand Kailo’s inner feelings better than she did.

He was scared.

He didn’t want to do it.

And yet, he was still doing it.

With every execution, he seemed to take on half the burden that had weighed on Vivian’s heart.

Though he claimed it was because he wanted to win against her, she couldn’t deny the fact that he was ultimately helping her.

Vivian still hated Kailo.

She wanted him to suffer in endless pain.

…But at least for today, she thought he had suffered enough.

She wanted to let him go now.

Watching him continue to fight had become too much for her.

***

“Hah… Hah…”

I looked down at my hands.

Having cut off the heads of 19 people, I was drenched in too much blood.

The blood had caked so much that my hand was stuck to the sword’s handle.

But this was the end of it now.

There was only one person left.

The knights brought out the final prisoner.

I immediately noticed the prisoner’s small frame.

The last prisoner wasn’t a man.

It was a woman.

-Thud!

The knights forced her to kneel just like the others.

Fixing her to the execution platform didn’t seem as difficult as it had been with the other men.

‘A knight must protect women and children.’

My father’s voice echoed in my head.

But this was the last one.

Just one more, and it would all be over.

I could lift the burden from Vivian Rondor.

Hearing this woman’s crime would make it easier to carry out the execution.

I checked the document that Scholar Crellin had brought.

Her crime.

Witch.

I felt my heart momentarily freeze.

-Slash!

In the meantime, the knights removed the sack from the prisoner’s head.

The face of someone I hadn’t forgotten appeared before me.

“…Ah.”

It was the old woman who had cursed me on the day I arrived in Loctana.

She had said that I would have a short life, that I wouldn’t be able to have children, or that if I did, they would be born deformed, and…

‘You will love someone you’re not meant to love.’

…She was the one who had said those words.

As I stood frozen, the crowd grew restless, perhaps curious about my reaction.

Their gazes urged me to continue.

“This prisoner is a witch.”

I spoke as if pushed from behind.

“Under the name of Lord of Loctana, Head of Rondor, Vivian Rondor, I, Kailo Alan, eldest son of the Alan family, hereby sentence you to death.”

With hands that had suddenly slowed, I untied the cloth gag in her mouth.

As her face touched the blood-stained execution platform, she looked up at me and smiled.

“It’s been a long time, Kailo Alan.”

Though her mouth was smiling, the hatred in her eyes was still vivid.

The old woman whispered.

“Looking at your surroundings, and seeing your face up close again… I have nothing left to desire. You’re already living in hell.”

I swallowed hard.

Though I was gripping my greatsword firmly, it kept slipping from my hands.

Her crime was being a witch.

She had said so when she cursed me.

‘I wasn’t really a witch… but if I had such power… If I truly were a witch, as they said…’

An entity who admitted to being a witch couldn’t escape execution.

In the end, she was dying to leave me with this small discomfort.

I unknowingly asked.

“…Were you really a witch?”

The old woman only laughed.

“One can only hope.”

I realized there was nothing more to say to her.

Straightening my posture, I gripped my sword.

“…Any last words?”

“May my curse be fulfilled.”

But maybe because it was the last execution, or because I was so drained, I couldn’t lift my greatsword.

No matter how much I steadied my breathing, it was the same.

I glanced at Vivian, haltingly.

She was looking at me.

While everyone else was focused on the prisoner, eager to see how her head would be severed.

…Only Vivian was watching me.

Only she was there, keeping her eyes on me.

I looked back at the old woman.

…This time, I was able to lift the sword.

“…Hup!”

-Thud!

The final head was severed.

As the execution ended, I stood silently before the execution platform, catching my breath.

I had taken 20 lives.

I killed 20 people in one day.

It felt surreal, almost unreal.

Why had I done this?

Why had I killed 20 people?

As the crowd dispersed and went about their business, I just stood there.

Some called me a monster as they left.

Others shouted that I was a savage Northerner.

I couldn’t hear them right now.

There was a far more complicated battle happening inside me.

Then, someone walked toward me, slowly.

The sight of her red hair fluttering snapped me back to reality.

Vivian Rondor.

For some reason, I immediately looked away.

I didn’t want to see her expression.

On the other hand, I could clearly see the expressions of disgust on the faces of her retainers behind her.

“You should stay away from monsters.”

A man behind Vivian advised.

It was Nestor, the Rondor family’s informant.

Lady Linne fanned herself.

“…The smell of blood is thick.”

Treasurer Brynden shook his head and clicked his tongue at me.

“The Northeners are Northerners after all.”

…For some reason, those words hurt a little more today.

Perhaps because I had killed people, my emotions felt even more unstable.

It felt like they were all condemning me for what I had done.

And when I felt this worn out, I longed for my parents’ embrace.

I was trying my best, but I was still far from being an adult.

What would my mother say if she saw that I had become a murderer?

Would she still love me, calling me her strong, reliable eldest son?

Or would she scold me for killing people for the sake of our enemies?

Suddenly, everything I had done felt foolish.

I wasn’t in my right mind.

Maybe the curse really had worked.

Why was I doing this for Vivian?

I felt pathetic, and it made me want to cry.

But I didn’t want to show this to Vivian.

Crying in front of her would be the most humiliating thing.

After telling her not to cry, I couldn’t allow myself to do it.

So, I prepared to leave, brushing off my arms.

If I lay down for a while back in my quarters, I would feel better.

Besides, if Vivian looked at me with the same disgust as her retainers…

…It would be too much for me to handle right now.

-Tap.

But, before I knew it, Vivian had come closer and grabbed my arm.

I flinched in surprise and pulled my arm away.

Her hand was stained with sticky blood.

“…What?”

Frightened, I still didn’t look at her face.

I simply waited for her to respond.

But even after a long while, she said nothing.

I didn’t know why she had stopped me.

I was out of patience.

The more exhausted I felt, the more irritated I became.

I had done enough for her, and I just wanted to leave.

At this moment, I had no strength left to fight with Vivian.

So, I was about to tell her to let me go.

“…Are you okay…?”

…Until she opened her mouth and whispered softly.

I froze at the sound of her voice.

It was only then that I looked at her face.

It wasn’t the usual angry or crying expression she showed me.

Her face seemed a bit dazed, and her eyes looked droopier than usual…perhaps even worried.

For a fleeting moment, she let an emotion pass.

It was a completely unexpected expression.

At the very least, she wasn’t looking at me as if I were a monster.

Had I ever even thought she wouldn’t be like everyone else, seeing me as a monster?

I stood there, hoping to hear her whispered words again.

Maybe she realized I hadn’t heard her, as Vivian parted her lips again.

But instead, she simply turned away.

As if to say she wouldn’t ask again.

Similarly, Lady Linne, Brynden, and Nestor, who also hadn’t heard Vivian’s words, followed behind her with questioning looks.

I glanced down at my arm.

The arm that Vivian had held for a brief moment.

●…Was she asking if I was okay?

Vivian?

“…Ha.”

A hollow laugh escaped my lips as I stood there in a daze.

It wasn’t her actions that left me speechless—it was my own state.

The fist I had clenched tightly loosened.

Strength drained from my legs.

The tension dissipated.

The suffocating guilt that had been weighing down on my chest lightened.

With just a brief touch from Vivian, a few words of concern…some of my pain was washed away.

Enough for me to understand why I had been feeling like this.