Ch.151Subjugation (3)

There was one lie I had told.

It was a bit absurd that this was the first thing to come to mind as I lay fallen, but it was the truth.

Melody.

This duelist, known as the Golden Nightingale, recalled the lie she had told to Llewellyn.

She had spoken to Llewellyn as if she had never met her mother.

She had acted as if it didn’t matter, and even after taking her revenge, she had behaved as if she had let go of all resentment.

But in reality.

In reality, that wasn’t true.

Because she didn’t want to seem like a woman with deep-seated issues, because she didn’t want to worry others with matters concerning her mother, because she didn’t want to appear weak.

Yet she still secretly wanted comfort, though she didn’t want pity.

Amid her complicated feelings, Melody had unwittingly told a lie about her mother.

When the truth was quite different.

Melody did have memories of seeing her mother.

A mother who was injured and worn down in various ways. When her mother first saw Melody, she couldn’t even recognize her as her daughter.

Her mother seemed to have been sent mainly to the eastern part of the Empire.

Perhaps because she was from the south and naturally resistant to “contamination,” her mother was the “optimal solution” that the duelist school could offer for the Empire’s requests, and she delivered excellent results accordingly.

With bloodlines that produced the duelist school’s finest masterpieces, plus outstanding achievements.

The duelist school cherished her mother in its own way, and Melody, born and raised in the school, respected her mother as well.

That’s why she had gone to meet her mother.

It was an act of deviation. Forbidden, yet she did it anyway.

She undid the bindings placed on her by casting spells herself and found her mother through her innate senses.

The image of the mother she found that way came to mind.

That was when Melody had lied to Llewellyn.

Melody did have memories of seeing her mother.

Setting off on an adventure because a mother she’d never met died? That’s nonsense.

But sometimes she thought:

If only she hadn’t gone to meet her mother.

In the memories of the fallen Melody, a scene flashed.

Half a face marred by burns, a left hand with missing fingers.

Eyes glazed over from contamination, and a third eye that occasionally emitted an eerie glow.

But she knew it was her mother.

Not because of the same hair color or the same eye color as Melody.

Paradoxically, Melody recognized her mother as her own blood when she saw that her mother’s wings had been clipped, just like her own.

Why was this memory surfacing now? Melody squirmed where she had fallen on the ground.

Her body wouldn’t move properly. Or rather, she couldn’t see anything properly. Her breath was short, hot, and unsteady.

She couldn’t cast spells. No poetry, songs, speeches, not even whistling.

Unable to create any melody, she couldn’t form spells. She couldn’t even heal herself. How pathetic.

She didn’t even have her sword or cloak. Melody heard approaching footsteps as she struggled.

Thanks to her exceptional senses.

Allies? Or Llewellyn?

Neither. Thud, thud, thud. The approaching footsteps were heavy. The distinctive sound of well-armed soldiers.

The faint sound of something dragging on the ground. The sound of polearms.

The sound of shaft ends being dragged. Melody let out an involuntary laugh.

Soldiers sent to finish her off.

Even with death so close, she thought:

The enemy has enough leeway to deploy separate soldiers.

Though she couldn’t see, the circumstances were obvious—Llewellyn hadn’t returned immediately, or reinforcements hadn’t come to help Melody.

A punitive expedition. One formed to completely eliminate Llewellyn and her small organization.

That meant attacks were happening throughout the entire Pantheon. She needed to help. A variable was needed.

But her limbs had no strength. Melody couldn’t even stand up. With each exhale, a sharp pain enveloped her entire body, making her clench her teeth without realizing it.

It was painful. But.

Pain was familiar. Melody had lost her mother, become an adventurer, and overcome countless crises.

So she had to move. She needed to move, but.

“…Ah, really.”

A girl lamenting while lying face down. Perhaps she should have worn her cloak as usual.

Because she wanted to look pretty, because it didn’t match her dress, she had taken it off.

Truly.

Melody felt regret. There were still so many words unsaid, so many things undone.

Was Llewellyn alive?

She hoped so.

As Melody closed her eyes with a face full of regret, and as the soldiers approaching to kill her were about to enter striking range.

Swish, a sudden sound.

Thwack!

She couldn’t even react. The sound was quite familiar to Melody.

The sound of an arrow piercing flesh. A very familiar technique at that.

Shadow Piercing.

As the magic from the trajectory pushed bodies away and the sound of falling soldiers echoed chaotically.

Someone leaped from a tree and floated in the air.

Cold gray-blue eyes scanned the surroundings. There were many soldiers. Too many to handle all at once. As soon as she made her assessment, a bow made of light extended.

Twang, twang-twang-twang!

Rapid fire with no concern for accuracy. Yet years of honed skill naturally guided the arrows.

Steel armor was pierced with thuds, and arrows aimed at the gaps in armor took lives.

As two soldiers who had approached Melody collapsed, Isla drew her bow repeatedly while tracing a gentle arc through the air.

Under the sky where even moonlight was dim, a barrage of light rained down. As condensed moonlight left trajectories in its wake, the soldiers retreated in unison, putting shield bearers at the front.

Clang, clang-clang!

The shields were pierced but not completely penetrated. Isla extended her bow again as she rolled once upon landing.

Shadow Piercing. Magic burst from the necklace around her neck, creating a trajectory, and an arrow of light accelerated along that path.

Whiiiiiiiz, thunk!

This arrow was not light. It sent the shield flying. While the shield bearers were entangled, Isla looked at Melody lying on the ground.

And froze the moment she saw her.

Blood flowing down, a body that could barely move.

Even more serious was.

Isla felt a pain in her chest. Though she had few expressions and lacked in showing them, that didn’t mean her sensitivity was dead.

Isla hated seeing people who treated her well get hurt.

Not just people. She would throw leftover jerky to dogs that followed her wagging their tails, give bone glue to the Mourner to use, and.

She was the one who made leather tabards and robes for Eshater, and the one who visited Lorian most frequently when he was ill.

Isla longed for family. These were her first companions.

Isla bit her lip slightly as she saw a soldier emerging from the bushes.

A soldier with an axe. Too close to shoot with a bow. Isla quickly withdrew her bow and aimed her crossbow.

Twang, clang!

Despite the point-blank range, perhaps because the target was obvious, the axe-wielding soldier deflected the arrow and closed the distance, but.

Isla’s specialty was actually neither bow nor crossbow.

In less than a breath, she loaded a lead bullet into the sling at her waist and swung it.

Under the moonlight, the sling loaded with a lead bullet traced a full moon, and the heavy attack, accelerated by centrifugal force and a partial transformation of her upper arm, crushed the axe soldier’s skull.

As the axe soldier collapsed, Isla’s body rotated to deliver a kick. Her leg had already transformed into that of a snow leopard.

Crack!

The head completely shattered. Without even withdrawing her extended leg, Isla planted it on the ground, rotated her body, and fired her sling.

The head of a soldier charging with a spear from behind Isla split open.

Usually, combat would stop at this point. Fear is a natural emotion for humans, after all.

But strangely, the soldiers closed the distance without hesitation. Despite killing more than ten soldiers in an instant, they showed no fear.

Tactical retreat was necessary. If there was distance and no one to protect, it might be different. But it was too much for Isla to handle this entire force.

She recalled Lucilla’s instructions.

‘Go help the others and bring them here!’

Lucilla knew Isla was fast. With the snow leopard’s leaping power and harmony with the forest, she thought it would work.

Isla thought the same. But she hadn’t expected this.

They wouldn’t retreat unless all were killed. In that case.

Isla dodged a spear thrust aimed at her by jumping backward, then deflected another spear by kicking its shaft, and reached Melody’s side.

“Melody.”

“Is…la…”

Her voice was weak. She was barely squeezing out the words. Isla suppressed her face from contorting with sadness and tucked Melody under her arm before leaping.

Her leaping power, which easily carried her own weight, was more than sufficient even with the notably light bird beastkin tucked under her arm, and Isla easily jumped to evade the soldiers.

But they gave chase. They plunged into the forest without hesitation and kept up.

They seemed ready to cut down any tree she might climb if she stopped. Isla gritted her teeth as she jumped from tree to tree.

“Isla, my sword and cloak?”

“I have them.”

“Give them to me. I’ll fight too.”

She was in no condition to fight. It was impossible. She would die.

Isla couldn’t say such things. It felt familiar.

She herself had been in a similar situation with Llewellyn. Isla had to twist her body in mid-air to avoid an arrow aimed at her head as she leaped from tree to tree.

“But… Melody.”

Melody was a rival, but also a friend. Not someone who deserved to be lost.

It was right after losing Selma. She didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Moreover, because of the memory of fighting with Selma, looking at Llewellyn made her heart ache.

She had unconsciously avoided Llewellyn, and now felt guilty about it.

She had wanted to express her true feelings, to say that she was okay now, but couldn’t say anything even during the hunt they went on together.

In such a situation, she didn’t want to lose Melody too. That’s why Isla couldn’t readily follow Melody’s suggestion.

As Isla’s eyes, rarely showing such emotion, looked tearfully at Melody, words came out spontaneously.

“Your eyes…”

Melody couldn’t readily respond to those words.

She was a duelist. She wielded magic and handled a sword.

She used the power of melody to control magic. And Melody was the finest duelist one could find anywhere.

Innate talent, accumulated experience, and high caliber.

She was truly a duelist who had reached the pinnacle, capable of realizing her magical ideals.

Clearly, she had lost her eyes.

She could no longer see ahead.

Everyone knows the importance of vision in combat. Even those unfamiliar with fighting.

But.

“It’s okay.”

Sometimes what is lost leads to something gained.

Before her, a realm she had yet to attain was beckoning.

*

It wasn’t just Imperial troops mobilized for this punitive expedition.

There were also mercenaries known as “former adventurers.”

Not all were mercenaries or employed, but the number of mercenaries was not insignificant.

Even the axe soldier who lost his life to Isla’s sling and kick was a mercenary.

But the man now leading the “Golden Nightingale Punitive Force” was different from such riffraff.

He was an acquaintance of Melody’s.

He had discarded his name. All that remained was his family name, Felencia.

He was once from the duelist school but had sought refuge with the Empire right after Melody and the Guardian Lord brought down the school.

Once from a senior family of the duelist school and considered a promising candidate for the next headmaster, he had set out immediately upon hearing he could kill Melody.

He didn’t ask for compensation. Rather, he was in a position where he should be paying.

At least, that’s how Felencia himself saw it.

The privileges he had enjoyed, his bright future, his happy family.

He believed Melody had taken it all from him. The Guardian Lord was just a means; Melody was the one who had brought it all down.

So Felencia snorted when he saw the girl before him.

“You’ve lost your sight, Melody.”

Her eyes were closed. She kept them closed.

Blood had streamed down her forehead, and the dress she wore could hardly be considered armor.

The only thing to be wary of was the cloak around her body. That purple cloak, despite its color, was called the golden cloak.

The most valuable treasure Melody possessed. A defense superior to any shield in terms of protection.

But to come out here relying on just that?

Felencia let out a derisive laugh as he gripped his sword hilt.

‘Has she given up?’

Felencia assessed the situation.

The annoying hunter was nowhere to be seen. She might be lying in ambush, but considering the overall situation, that seemed unlikely.

Felencia knew his own worth well.

He wasn’t someone worth taking time to kill.

The forces that had infiltrated the facility, the generals, the mercenaries and generals keeping the Guardian Lord occupied.

The finance minister holding back the Black Knight Commander Valterok, and the former classmate and headmaster of the War School dispatched to punish the “pretender.”

Those were the ones worth taking time to ambush and kill. Not a mercenary who had survived by the Guardian Lord’s whim and fallen from grace.

So there was no ambush here. Only Melody remained.

He would survive. Take revenge, survive, and reclaim his glory.

What confidence was this? Felencia drew his sword.

An estoc, similar to the one Melody now held in her hand.

A sword excellent for thrusting, favored even by the first duelist who became the root of the duelist school.

Felencia aimed his sword at Melody.

“Kill her.”

At that single command, all forces charged.

Amidst the entangled footsteps, the sound of weapons meeting the ground, and the sound of metal armor rubbing against skin.

Melody exhaled deeply.

Recalling what Llewellyn had once said.

‘Melody’s senses are at the same level as mine. What I can do, Melody can do too.’

Melody gripped her sword and brought her free hand to the blade.

Her curled fingers stopped in front of the blade and.

Ting, it rang with a clear resonance.

And Felencia saw it.

Countless weapons that couldn’t hit the frail girl who had lost her eyes, merely grazing past her.

The blind girl holding her sword amidst it all, emitting golden ripples.

The Golden Nightingale who had acquired new eyes.

As Melody’s body moved as if dancing, a spray of blood erupted from the soldiers’ necks.

The girl kept her eyes gently closed amidst the blood spray.

Felencia felt goosebumps rising on his arms as he gripped his sword properly.