Ch.156Ending

I wiped the armor of the fallen men, tearing their tattered clothes to clean my sword and arms.

The flowing blood was one thing, but the yellowish, sticky fluid from the maggots was honestly disgustingly unpleasant.

Like stepping on a cockroach barefoot and feeling it burst.

Speaking of which, brain-eating worm monsters… this must be Isabella’s doing.

That witch always had a strange number of insect monsters among her subordinates.

I wonder if she’s noticed they’re dead yet?

Well, even if not now, once Claire disappears, she’ll immediately realize I was involved.

After all, these worm knights were borrowed by Claire to stop me.

Though there was something… questionable about that.

I look down at the three fallen insect creatures.

Three Masters.

More accurately, three who “were” Masters… anyway, though they were troublesome, they weren’t opponents I couldn’t defeat.

Apart from some scratches and cuts on my armor, I wasn’t particularly injured.

Rather, they were helpful.

Thanks to them, my swordsmanship improved dramatically.

Now I understood perfectly.

How to swing without wasting strength to cut cleanly, how to break through solid defenses.

Techniques for deceiving enemies by changing sword paths, controlling stride and breath. I understood everything completely.

Having fought relying on overwhelming physical abilities and sharp instincts, my skills were honestly somewhat lacking compared to other Masters.

But that’s now in the past. My swordsmanship, having absorbed the skills of three Masters, achieved growth close to evolution.

I almost felt I should thank the empty skulls rolling on the ground.

Did Isabella really think she could defeat me with just these three?

Given what she must have heard about my accomplishments, it should have been obvious that three Masters wouldn’t be enough.

Was she thinking too carelessly, or did she never intend to kill me in the first place?

Even if she wanted to keep me alive for some use, she could have deployed more forces to capture me.

…I don’t know.

Well, how could an ordinary person like me understand the thinking of a witch?

Whatever that woman is plotting… I just need to focus on what I have to do.

I sheathed the dimmed Durandal and put the blackened Frosting back in its case.

The battle was essentially over. All that remained was the cleanup.

The reed field burned fiercely, using the scattered corpses as firewood.

If left alone, who knows how far it would spread… but Ophelia would handle it.

The dagger I had thrown after setting it on fire was useless now, its blade melted and bent.

I tossed away the useless piece of metal without hesitation and headed toward Ophelia.

The battle was already over on her side too.

Claire must have put up a desperate fight while I was finishing off the worm knights, as Ophelia’s clothes were torn and burned to tatters.

Her exposed left hand was also blackened with burns.

In other words, she had only suffered that much damage.

Claire’s subordinates had all been turned to fertilizer, and Claire herself lay powerlessly, having used up all her strength.

Subdued, Claire glared at Ophelia with half-clouded eyes, streaming blood and tears.

“Kuh…ugh…! Ophil…ia…!”

“Is this as far as you go, sister? Now it’s time for your punishment. Look at this, it’s quite painful, you know?”

Showing her burn-marked left hand, Ophelia crushed her sister’s left wrist under her foot with a smile full of ecstasy.

She ground the wrist bone slowly and meticulously with her heel, breaking it to pieces.

Claire screamed.

Ophelia burst into laughter. As if she couldn’t contain her joy.

She must have harbored quite a grudge against her sister.

Well, it doesn’t matter. That woman deserves this treatment.

I approached her, brushing off the ashes and dust from my shoulders.

—-

Claire’s condition up close was miserable.

Her dress was torn to shreds, revealing skin covered in wounds, and her side was crumpled with burns.

Both ankles were deeply cut as if slashed by blades, blood flowing freely, and her right wrist was twisted around three times.

Her face was even more horrific.

Her eyes, red from burst blood vessels, poured tears like broken faucets, and black blood flowed from her nose and mouth.

Inside her weakly open mouth, broken molars floated in the blood pooled in her throat, having shattered from clenching too hard.

A wretched sight.

Though I felt no sympathy.

“I’m done on my side… what will you do with this woman? Honestly, I think it would be safer to kill her. Though she looks like she’ll die soon anyway if left alone.”

She may be in this state now, but that’s only because she fought while poisoned and ambushed. Had she been at full strength, Ophelia would have had to sustain considerable injuries.

If we let her live and she escaped, she would become a persistent problem.

“Kill her? Me, kill my sister? Ah, I did say that at first…. But I’m sorry, that was a lie. I’m going to keep my sister alive.”

Ophelia answered, wiping her mouth.

Whether she was wiping blood or saliva, I couldn’t tell. Her eyes, intoxicated with excitement, were chilling.

In the original story, she had cut Claire’s throat without hesitation and clung to Demian, so why?

Was it because she had almost no connection with Demian?

“That’s dangerous. I won’t help you next time.”

“It’s not a problem. Whatever my sister tries to do, once caught, she can’t escape from my hands, right? Isn’t that so, Sister Claire? You’re still conscious, aren’t you?”

Ophelia answered lightly as if it didn’t matter, removing her foot from Claire’s crushed wrist and smiling down at her sister.

—-

Claire responded with convulsive coughing instead of an answer.

Blood pooled in her throat sprayed out, staining her face red.

“Keh-hack, cough! …Why does it always end up like this…?”

A quiet voice filled with resentment and bitterness lamented her fate.

It was a small, thin voice that seemed about to break at any moment.

“Why… do you always win, while I lose and lose everything? Power, family name… family.”

Her unfocused pupils were no longer looking at Ophelia.

A gaze wandering in empty space. Even her words were incoherent.

“Answer me, Ophelia. Why do you alone… take everything so easily.”

Inferiority, grief, despair.

Claire’s inner self, without even the strength to hate, was full of ragged scars.

She revealed her wounds and wept.

“Even though I threw away my body, conscience, and pride to defeat you, giving everything to monsters without reservation, you still stand before me…”

A dying body, a broken soul. Ugly memories.

Recalling the life she had desperately endured, Claire wept silently.

…It was none of my business.

She’s talking as if she’s the tragic heroine who lost everything… but knowing Claire’s evil deeds, I couldn’t find any reason to sympathize.

From the beginning, what she had taken from others far exceeded what she had lost.

How dare she act like a victim.

The real victims are the women who fell prey to your schemes and were offered to Isabella.

“That’s because you’re weak, sister. Because you’re weak, you must be discarded, and because you’re weak, you still lose. But don’t worry anymore, you won’t have to suffer from such things anymore.”

A cold sneer.

Ophelia also seemed to have no intention of sympathizing with Claire’s lament.

Looking down at Claire mockingly, Ophelia took out a vial from her bosom.

A sinister purple liquid sloshed inside.

“I’ll take good care of House Sigmillus. You don’t need to worry about anything anymore, just know your place and rest well.”

“…Don’t be… ridiculous!”

Perhaps her sister’s mockery rekindled her dying anger, as focus returned to Claire’s eyes.

Though she shouldn’t have had any strength left, somehow she raised her left arm.

“You’re trying so hard. Even with no mana left. You might really die like that?”

“If I can’t have it… rather than giving it to you, I’d rather…!”

Though her hand trembled violently, Claire managed to snap her fingers.

Remarkable tenacity. Her wrist bones and nerves must be shattered and mixed, yet she still moved her fingers.

And nothing happened.

“What were you trying to do, sister?”

Ophelia asked incredulously.

However, Claire smiled as if satisfied.

“Well, you’ll see when you return to the mansion…. Go ahead, go and check… Ophelia.”

With a weak “hehe,” Claire went limp.

Though still alive, she looked close to death by anyone’s standards.

“…This seems a bit ominous, is this really okay?”

To my question, Ophelia gave no answer.