Ch.185Comrade (2)

Sylvia had successfully entered the Demon King’s castle.

Just as the demon prince had said, climbing up through the foul-smelling passage led her to the ruins of what was once the castle’s kitchen.

The walls and ceiling had collapsed, and the food waste—so decayed it had hardened completely—was weathered to the point where it would crumble at the slightest touch.

Fine dust had accumulated like snow throughout the room, as if no one had set foot there for a very long time, leaving black footprints wherever Sylvia stepped.

“Ha…”

Sylvia let out a small, hollow laugh.

So much had changed since that day—she couldn’t even remember exactly how many years ago it was.

Back then, she had reached this castle as the leader of the hero’s party, but everything was different now.

Back then, she had the kingdom’s support, but now the kingdom had fallen.

Back then, she was accompanied by many companions, but now Sylvia stood here alone.

Back then, she had charged boldly through the main gate, but now she had crept in secretly through a garbage chute.

Back then, various emotions had boiled within her—hope, fear, relief that it would soon be over, tension before a powerful enemy. But now, only two simple emotions remained.

Anticipation for a future with Ash, and rage toward the Demon King who had placed this damned curse upon her.

“…Hah,”

Sylvia sighed as she brushed back her hair, then carefully brought her hand to her eyes.

Her fingertips reflected in her glowing red irises.

“All this time because of this…”

Because of these eyes, she had suffered for so many long days.

In reality, it had only been a few years, but to Sylvia, it felt like an eternity—as if despair had been woven into a dense thread, then used to craft a massive veil covering the entire forest, days so long they made her mind go numb.

A cruel and merciless cycle of pain that no one should ever experience, no one could endure, and no value could justify bearing.

Thanks to it, Sylvia had come to believe in the existence of hell.

This must be what hell feels like, she thought—a vivid yet transcendent pain that had weighed her down for so long.

And now, Sylvia was approaching the source of that pain.

The day of true liberation from this curse had finally arrived.

“Haaah…”

She squeezed her eyes shut and slowly exhaled once more.

While Sylvia completely agreed that no reward could ever justify enduring such pain, in truth, that wasn’t entirely accurate.

As if to compensate for all that time filled with agony, a miracle of a boy had come into her life.

Sylvia had gained Ash.

She had pondered this herself many times.

Her love for Ash was an undeniable truth and absolute certainty, but would she have fallen in love with him if she hadn’t endured that long period of torment?

If she had defeated the Demon King, returned to the kingdom intact, and been welcomed as a hero—would she have fallen in love with Ash then?

Sylvia was no fool.

She was neither stupid nor shameless enough to deny or pretend not to know that in a world where everything had gone right, she would not have loved Ash.

And because of that, Sylvia had come to love this broken world.

More than her dead comrades, more than the fallen kingdom, more than her friend Maria, even more than her own suffering self.

Ash was more precious than all of it.

“Crazy woman”

Perhaps her already broken mind was driving her toward this obsessive love.

Maybe her brain had malfunctioned after finally tasting sweet honey at the end of unbearable torture she couldn’t resist.

But it didn’t matter.

For Sylvia, who was broken and shattered, Ash’s presence was essential—warmly filling the gaps between her fragments.

Ash was no longer simply the man Sylvia loved.

He was closer to being as necessary as a hand or foot for her survival.

“…”

Sylvia slowly opened her eyes and looked ahead.

Her senses remained as sharp and keen as they had been years ago.

She could clearly detect several faint but distinct presences outside the door.

“They were waiting.”

Sylvia unfastened her leather scabbard, drawing out a sharp longsword with its menacing blade standing at attention.

Then she tossed the scabbard among the dust and filth scattered around.

There would be no need to sheathe this sword today.

Not until either she died or killed the Demon King.

Sylvia’s eyes gleamed sharply.

“Ash…”

A warm sensation swirled in her belly.

It was the small warmth held by the seed of love that Ash had inscribed upon her body, now beginning to sprout.

Sylvia’s heart filled with exhilaration.

She strode forward with firm, powerful steps.

Then she kicked open the door.

“…Ah,”

But what awaited Sylvia beyond the door was the nightmare that had tormented her for so long.

*

“…Yes, I expected this day would come eventually.”

Sylvia muttered blankly as she stared at the scene before her with trembling eyes.

The sight was shocking yet familiar.

It was a scene she had witnessed many times in those wearisome nightmares that had regularly visited her before Ash appeared.

Dozens of people stood in the corridor.

Their faces were all too familiar, yet something about their standing postures seemed awkward to Sylvia’s eyes.

And for good reason—they were people who shouldn’t be standing on two feet.

People who couldn’t possibly be alive.

“Ah…”

Sylvia’s lips quivered.

The kingdom’s soldiers who had followed her, and the companions who had shared her difficult journey.

Though she had never deliberately tried to remember them, she had never once forgotten their names, which now swirled in her mouth, unable to form into words.

Her sword-gripping fist trembled, causing the blade’s tip to shake violently.

“…”

What should she say?

Hello, I’ve missed you.

Thank you for following me.

I’m sorry for leaving you to die.

Countless words she wanted to express burst forth all at once, seeming to choke her throat.

In the end, it was her reddened eyes that conveyed her feelings before her lips could.

Large teardrops rolled down from Sylvia’s eyes.

“…”

But they were different.

Clutching their familiar weapons, they stared at Sylvia with expressionless faces.

With Sylvia’s gasp, tears began to flow uncontrollably.

She already knew what would happen next.

She had seen it in her nightmares so many times.

Sylvia stepped back and pleaded in a shrinking voice.

“No… don’t come closer… please…”

“…”

“Let me go… I’m begging you.”

“…Sylvia.”

“…!”

Startled by the voice calling her name, Sylvia looked straight ahead.

A giant of a man wielding an enormous battle hammer was approaching her.

“Heine…”

Sylvia called his name.

Heine was one of her former comrades who would always charge ahead first toward enemies, swinging his massive hammer with strength exceeding Sylvia’s own to crush monster heads.

Though they had become close after joining the academy, they had known each other since their days as noble soldiers, making him her oldest acquaintance. During their journey, they often drank together and became close friends.

In truth, he secretly admired Maria and had ulterior motives in seeking help from Sylvia, her friend. Still, he had a straightforward personality and knew how to liven up the atmosphere. Despite his bulky frame, he was talented in music, able to play a small ukulele with his thick fingers with impressive skill.

They had even promised that after their journey ended, she would learn to play the lute from him.

“…No, that can’t be right.”

Sylvia slowly gazed at her old friend with fearful eyes.

Again, she was no fool.

She knew perfectly well that these former comrades were no longer normal beings.

Sylvia understood they were merely phantoms, undead, or puppets of the Demon King.

Yet still, she dreaded what her old friend might say to her.

Heine towered over Sylvia with his massive frame.

Then he slowly began to speak.

“…Why.”

“…”

“Why did you leave us to die?”

“…Aaugh,”

“Why are you the only one alive?”

“…Aaaagh,”

“It hurt so much, Sylvia. It was agonizing.”

“Stop… stop it…”

“Why… did you abandon us and survive alone!”

Heine suddenly raised the massive hammer above his head.

In that moment,

A flash of black light swept through the room.

“…As I thought.”

“…Huh?”

Heine made a foolish sound.

Thin red lines slowly appeared across both his arms, and soon his arms, unable to support the weight of the massive hammer, fell to the floor along those lines.

Heine stared at his cleanly severed arms.

“As I thought, you’re not Heine.”

“…Sylviaaaa,”

In an instant, Sylvia gripped her sword and sliced Heine’s body vertically.

Still in the position of calling her name, Heine’s body slowly split in two and collapsed to the floor.

Sylvia spoke in a coldly settled voice.

“Heine wouldn’t say such things. He’s an idiot who would blame himself rather than resent others. And Heine wouldn’t just stand there if his arms were cut off. He was a big guy who made a fuss over small injuries.”

“…”

Sylvia slowly moved into the corridor outside the kitchen.

Her former comrades all rushed toward her at once.

Sylvia gave a hollow laugh.

“…That nightmare terrified me so much… but facing it now, it’s nothing.”

Sylvia swung her sword.

The bodies of soldiers who had followed her here only to die were cut into two or three pieces, tumbling to the floor.

“What a pathetic performance.”

“Sylvia! Because of you, I—!”

“My comrades aren’t the kind of people who would say such things.”

Sylvia’s blade flashed.

A shield warrior who used to deflect attacks with his shield.

He was a dependable man who always stood before Sylvia to protect her.

She thrust her sword into his face over the shield, then twisted and pulled it out.

A female attendant among the soldiers.

She had been the servant of a noble swordsman who was one of her comrades.

A cute girl who used to follow Sylvia around, asking to be taught swordsmanship.

After easily parrying her attack—which mimicked Sylvia’s own style—she punched through the girl’s chest.

From somewhere, arrows flew with a thunderous sound.

A mighty archer who wielded a bow taller than a person and fired rapid shots.

Though not agile, his arrows had the power of cannons when fired from a stationary position, effectively reducing the number of approaching monsters from afar and cleverly destroying terrain to create advantageous positions.

Yet despite this, his academy grades were poor, and Maria would always tutor him.

Dodging the thunderous arrows, she flew in instantly and severed his waist along with the great bow.

Everyone rushed at her calling her name, but not one of them screamed.

Plop, plop.

With each unpleasant drop of blood that spattered on her face, memories of her comrades flashed through her mind.

Battles fought back-to-back, moments of near crisis, uncomfortable yet laughter-filled camps…

All those memories faded one by one.

Sylvia spoke with a voice full of cold killing intent.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re all already dead.”

She looked at her former comrades who were still standing.

It seemed she could cut them all down without hesitation.

But even as she thought this, Sylvia’s eyes were searching for someone.

“…Hah,”

Maria wasn’t there.

Only Maria was missing.

What did that mean?

Was her body impossible to find and resurrect?

Or did it mean Sylvia didn’t deserve to see even the dead Maria?

Would she never again see Maria, even one who would pour cold resentment upon her?

Sylvia sighed heavily at these thoughts.

No, perhaps it was for the best.

If the one pouring resentment at her had been Maria instead of Heine,

If it had been Ash’s sister, Sylvia wouldn’t have been able to endure it.

Thinking this, she tightened her grip on the sword handle that kept slipping due to the blood on her hands.

“Even nightmares can be cut down.”

Sylvia said briefly, then charged forward.

.