Chapter 51: The Third Downfall (1)

[51] 8. The Third Downfall (1)

Amy pulls the sword out from her side.

Blood gushes out, staining the pure white snow.

However, Amy’s face remains impassive. She simply drinks a potion and takes a step…

…Toward the knight lying face down on the crimson snow.

[Just who… the hell are you…!]

The knight, clutching his split stomach, looked at her. Gritting his teeth, he shouted with effort,

[Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing…!]

A white flash.

A crimson spray of blood arcs through the gray sky, along with the knight’s head.

After a short flight, the knight’s head landed on the snow. Snow poured into his mouth, cutting his shout short.

Then, a tattooed hand picked it up.

Wearing clothes that didn’t suit her gender,

With a seemingly frivolous demeanor,

And with her arms covered in intricate tattoos…

Betty Ailleyde, smiling, raised the knight’s head. She looked at the knight’s unfocused eyes and muttered,

“The price of treason is truly pathetic.”

Then, she tossed it away carelessly. She approached Amy with a sly grin.

“As expected of the hero! You’ve defeated an elf who was once called the Sword Saint 300 years ago purely by swordsmanship! Even Alain himself couldn’t…”

“What’s next?”

Amy sheathed her sword. She continued speaking, without even looking at Betty,

“Who do I need to kill next to awaken the holy sword?”

Betty’s smile stiffened. Soon, she put on a subservient look.

“It’s good that you’re so motivated, but shouldn’t you rest for a bit? Haven’t you been fighting nonstop for three days?”

Before you die from exhaustion. Betty swallowed the words. Amy was a mess.

Her eyes, dark with fatigue, were dull and unfocused. And her lips were slack, as if they had never formed a smile. Blood, dripping from the many cuts on her body, mixed with the knight’s and fell to the ground, drop by drop.

There was no life left in her.

But the funny thing was, this wasn’t because of the fatigue from battles.

She was always like this. Tired or not.

It was like that from the first time Betty came to see her with the holy sword.

Ah, back then, I thought Irene was wrong.

Betty looked past Amy’s shoulder.

She saw a distant mountain range, torn and jagged. They weren’t broken, they were *torn*.

The tip of a mountain was sliced off and embedded in its side, and deep scars were carved into the mountainside.

They were all the wounds Amy and the knights had inflicted.

“I’m fine.”

Amy’s firm voice snapped Betty out of her thoughts. She continued, walking past Betty,

“So, lead the way.”

It was a steady voice, but Betty could sense the tremor in her voice. A warning sign that her physical strength had reached its limit.

But Betty, instead of arguing, simply opened her mouth,

“Next is the Blue Dragon of the East, a sly bitch who once used to followed Alain’s ass around.”

Four months of experience had taught her that arguing with Amy was futile.

Amy was a woman who always got what she wanted, no matter what. She was even more stubborn than Alain himself.

Besides, if she continued like this, she’d just collapse from exhaustion at some point. Betty could just toss her onto a bed, and she’ll wake up eventually. Something Betty had already experienced countless times.

Of course, each time this happened, Amy’s body deteriorated, but Betty didn’t care.

Betty Ailleyde had only one goal.

“Let’s go awaken the Holy Sword.”

She grinned brightly.

“Once the Holy Sword is awakened and we pierce the Demon King’s heart with it, the goddess will grant us our wishes.”

***

After Parsley abruptly left once again…

I decided to walk around the camp.

I didn’t have a specific reason. It’s just that going through my old memories had made me a bit sentimental.

I strolled through the plains until sunrise, ecalling memories one by one until the sun rose from the horizon.

Then, I saw blue smoke rising from the distance, the mark of the Imperial army. The supplies were finally here.

Realizing it was time for me to get to work, I obediently headed toward where our men were. I took Feya, who was also awake, with me to inspect the supplies.

…And then I stared at the scene before me, speechless.

I looked at the dozens of wagons entering the camp, dumbfounded.

They were all twice the size of the wagons our mercenary group used, and, of course, they were piled high with supplies.

And it wasn’t just supplies the Empire had sent.

I looked at the soldiers placed between the row of wagons. They weren’t feeble recruits, but seasoned veterans.

I mumbled unconsciously,

“They sent all of this?”

“Looks like the Emperor’s properly pissed off,”

Feya, who was standing next to me, said casually. But her face seemed dissatisfied as she continued,

“They sent their so-called Central Knights, an elite force, and they not only failed to solve the problem, but they even let the supplies get stolen.”

“Still…”

The scale of this resupply is strange, I thought. Surely the empire’s situation can’t be comfortable enough that they could afford this kind of over-the-top supply delivery, can it?

And there was something else that seemed strange.

Why are there so many construction materials?

To build siege weapons to counter that moving fortress? No, that didn’t make sense.

I’ve been a mercenary for five years. I could tell the difference between materials for siege weapons and building materials.

In the first place, they don’t use bricks to build siege weapons.

“By the way…”

Feya’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. Turning my head, I saw her pouting.

“Where were you since yesterday afternoon?”

Ah.

I finally understood why she seemed so upset ever since I saw her.

“I’m sorry. You were actually looking for me?”

“You suddenly disappeared in the middle of the afternoon, in a place crawling with imperial soldiers, so how could I not look for you? Do you even know how worried I was?”

She frowned, then, as if frustrated, she kicked the ground.

“And you show up in the morning as if nothing happened, saying to come look at the supplies without a word of explanation. How do you think I felt?”

…Hearing it like this, I definitely feel guilty.

Feya and I have had quite a lot of bad experiences with the Imperial army, especially with the knights. There’s a reason I don’t like that bitch Sheila.

Scratching my head, I averted my gaze.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll let you know next time.”

“Not next time, but from now on, you will tell me.”

Feya took a step closer to me. Looking up at me with bold eyes, she said

“Where the hell were you yesterday?”

…To be honest, answering that question wasn’t that hard.

I’d just been drinking with Irene, then met Parsley to talk about the past. That’s all.

It was all fine.

The problem was Feya.

I carefully looked into her eyes. I could see complicated emotions swirling beneath that icy blue gaze.

There had been some signs ever since I had kissed Clara. Back then, it was just a cute kind of jealousy that I could easily deal with.

But now that we’re here, surrounded by knights, is she being reminded of her old memories? She was increasingly acting like she had acted…

…Four years ago, back when we had just formed the mercenary group.

She was terrified when she couldn’t see me,

And couldn’t even fall asleep unless she was clinging to my wrist.

And I swear to God, I had no intention of going back to those days.

Meaning, I didn’t want to provoke her any further.

I lightly pushed down my guilty conscience and casually lied.

“I wasn’t really anywhere. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed, so I went for a walk…”

“Rem, *Oppa*…”

A familiar honorific title.

And at the same time, a soft touch on my back.

I turned around, surprised.

“I think I’m going to die from this hangover…”

Irene had her arms wrapped around me, whining. As if that wasn’t enough, she even rubbed her face against my back and mumbled,

“I can’t walk… Carry me…”

It was then I realized that gazes, too, could have weight and heat.

A cold sensation enveloped my cheek.

Feeling a shiver run down my spine, I slowly turned my head to look at Feya.

Her icy eyes glinted with complicated, sinister emotions.

It was the same gaze I’d seen countless times four years ago.

“It seems like you’ve gotten close with Ms. Irene, haven’t you?”

“N-No, it’s…”

My mind raced. All my thoughts searched for a way out of this predicament. And then, I reached a conclusion.

I’d somehow have to smooth-talk my way out of this.

I grabbed Irene by the shoulders, who was dying from her hangover, and pulled her up. She swayed, and I said, looking at her dazed and confused face,

“Ms. Irene, just how much did you drink yesterday? I don’t know who you’re mistaking me for, but please go back to your room and rest.”

The confusion in Irene’s eyes deepened.

So, I frantically mouthed the words, “I’m acting.”

Pleading with her to understand my intentions.

And sure enough, Irene was a smart woman.

The clouding in her eyes cleared, and she looked back and forth between me and Feya. Soon, as if realizing what was happening, she winked.

Then, suddenly,

“M-Mr. Rem? W-Why would I…?!”

She jerked away from me as if she had been burned.

Her face burning red, her pupils trembling, she then bowed to me.

“I-I’m so sorry…! I-I must have been mistaken… Th-Then, I’ll be on my way…!”

And with that, she ran away as if she were fleeing.

…Was that even acting?

I had planned for her to react like that, but her reaction was so natural that I was surprised.

Was she an aspiring actress or something?

Whatever.

It worked, and I breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to Feya.

“That was a surprise… She’s usually fine, but I don’t know why she’s like that when she’s drunk. Right?”

“…”

However, Feya’s eyes were still filled with suspicion. Raising an eyebrow, she asked,

“I’m sure I just heard her call you ‘Irene, Oppa’…?”

“Do you know where the Captain is? I’ve been looking for her all morning, but I can’t find her anywhere.”

I quickly changed the subject, turning my head away from her. Pretending not to have heard her question, I casually started walking.

Sometimes, quickly changing topics is crucial to maintaining a healthy relationship.

Feya let out a sigh and, as if proving this, and followed beside me. She said in a disgruntled tone,

“I don’t know. She said something about going to see Parsley…”

“Ah, she’s going to see… wait, what?”

***

I lifted my eyes and looked at Ms. Rose, who was sitting across the desk from me.

Smiling as always, she clasped her hands together and said,

“I’ll be direct.”

Her red eyes gleamed sharply.

“Please hand over Alain’s pocket watch to us, Ms. Parsley.”

It was an offer that was difficult to accept.