〈 Episode 21 〉 Witch's Dream 3

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"Looks like we have a reply from Count Deckard."

"...."

"So far, he's been agreeable to most of our demands, but only until the near future, then it's a hold, and then it's a no."

The part where the talk of war is consistent. The lord of the Sirtus estate, Earl Baiden Sirtus, son of the former Earl of Sirtus, Count Pommel Sirtus, impressed with his gaunt features and coarse black beard despite his nearing old age.

"What is this Count Deckard doing?"

"He is still lying ill, they say."

"Then I suppose that daughter of his will be going to battle."

"I suppose she will."

The East and the West are at constant war. After years of victories and defeats at the point of their swords, there was a lull in their fighting after the fall of Earl Samuel Deckard. With the eastern front falling, the Earl of Sirtus stopped fighting when he had the chance and retreated.

[Bastards.]

Sirtus' blood is said to run hotter than anyone else's, and he's belligerent. It is widely believed that he has taken up residence in the nearby western lands to combat the Deckard estate in the east.

"Now we can finally prove to the Deckards who is the strongest sword in the Empire."

Father's words. The two of them have been unable to settle their differences with the Earl of Deckard in the past. The current Earl of Sirtus is bent on honoring the former Earl's will.

[Northwell Deckard. He was an arrogant, foolish hero, blind to the world around him. He was nothing more than a child at knight's play...a man who oiled his sword and led the way in slaying monsters and enemies, but didn't care enough to answer a simple letter...a man who couldn't see the world around him.]

Baiden Sirtus, the current Earl of Sirtus, carries Northwell Deckard's name in his head, in his father's will. No, he will remember him forever.

[This is a man who would sell out his own family...to preserve his own heroics to the end...My son, Baiden Sirtus, the new Lord of Sirtus.]

The former Earl reaches out his now frail hand and takes Baiden Sirtus' hand in his own, his grip tightening as he expresses his determination.

[］ I've spent my life trying to break Deckard's sword, my son, by any means necessary. I've tried everything to break him, but all I have left is his arrogant pity and his miserable proposals for reconciliation.]

[My father has defended the count better than anyone else].

The dying Pommel Sirtus shakes his head. There is a burning desire in his eyes, more than anything else. His ambition was too great for an old man facing death.

[My life has been devoted to making our Count Sirtus the greatest sword in the Empire. The enemy will be stronger than anyone else, the sword will always be aimed at your throat, and the searing indigo light will always be there to strangle you. Do not fall into the curse of indigo. Always hold the reins of your horse, and endeavor to stab it in the back whenever you can. If you have any doubts, do not lead the soldiers, but lead the way. A father's worst dream...]

The thin hand reaches out and grasps Vaiden Sirtus's hand again. As if to remind him not to forget, and to destroy the cursed Earl of Deckard.

[The new... second-class... discriminated against... Count Sirtus'... new... kool-aid!]

Pommel Sirtus coughed up blood and closed his eyes. For years, he'd been trying to interfere with Count Deckard's finances and political career, using every means at his disposal to wage war. Even when he made the occasional threatening proposal, the Earl simply agreed. As if in a show of personal dignity and inclusiveness, the Earl of Deckard has simply given in to Sirtus's demands.

"I suppose he's holding out.

It's unclear, but it seems that the Earl of Deckard is going through some sort of succession ritual. There are many different noble families, each with their own customs and culture. Analyzing what was probably a hidden trick of the Earl of Deckard's, Vaiden Sirtus waited for them to finish their preparations. It doesn't matter if he can't hold back any longer and draws his sword, or if he's hiding his secret weapon between his gently rubbing hands.

'Bare it, false sword of the hidden empire...for as much as you have disrespected my father...'

We, House Sirtus, will wait with dignity and acceptance. And so, after a decade of years, Count Deckard rejected Count Sirtus's offer of a top-up, a threatening letter. The Empire's mightiest sword had finally drawn its blade and revealed itself to Sirtus.

"War."

His father's words from long ago. As if by some twist of fate, the Earls of Deckard and Sirtus had a son by the former, and a son by the latter. It was as if the blood of the family coveted each other.

"What are the children doing?"

"Sergen Sirtus is currently out hunting...and Arwell Sirtus is patrolling the city."

"Hmm."

It had been a decade since Samuel Deckard had lain down, and a decade since the Earl of Deckard had stopped clearing the Great Forest of Hammel. Not to be outdone, Count Deckard's son, Baiden Sirtus, had been a frequent monster hunter before he succeeded him as Count. His daughter, Serghen Sirtus, was scouring the Great Forest for her father.

"Arwell, I'm sure he's off somewhere drinking and fucking."

"He, he..."

"Never mind. When this war is over, even the ugliest of sons and daughters will be honored in the name of Sirtus."

Firmly believing himself to be the heir to the earldom, Arwell Sirtus would patrol the city, and in the name of patrolling the city, he would go out with his noble sons and daughters, including those from the upper echelons of the neighborhood, to whore and drink. Upon his return, he would say something along the lines of, "I've been discussing the prospects of the west .

.

"Heh!....Heh!"

I was running through the woods, breathing harshly.

"Kiehak! Kiehak!"

I had never seen such disgusting creatures in my life. Gross, fetid, grassy skin that didn't reflect the green sunlight, fangs protruding at will, red eyes glaring, hands clutching sharp rocks or rusty knives. Their long noses and small jaws gave the impression that they were dwarves.

"Krek! Kerek!"

An annoying sound like fingernails scratching on a glass window, coming from all directions. I was now slowly being surrounded by them.

[Hmm, that wound looks pretty good now. So, about that gift I told you about before...]

[What?]

[Don't you want to know what it is? What is it?]

The witch who told me that the ring was called 'Eternal Companionship' and that she had given me an unexpected gift. I was curious, so I nodded in agreement with the witch's words.

[Well, I'll save you in times of danger, so why don't you try it out?]

[How do you test it?]

[Like this!]

The witch clapped her hands together, and a huge gust of sand rose up and swirled around me like a whirlwind.

[Uh? Uh!]

Carrying me high into the air, the whirlwind whisked me away in the blink of an eye to somewhere in the Hammel Great Forest, and...

[Keruk!]

Unnerving cries. A cracking voice, as if it were pleased with an unexpected gift.

[Aaaahhh!]

Less than two meters away, green, child-sized monsters stared back at me, and I ran, not knowing where I was going, but how far I had come.

"Where the hell am I!!!"

The damn boreal forest. A graveyard of people who were said to be lost and haunted no matter how many adventurers came. No matter how much they were persecuted in the manor, they couldn't get out of the slums and ended up in this forest, which was one of the reasons why they were living like wastes.

"Tadak!

Dry branches snap under my boots.

"Damn it! Damn it!

I realize their name is goblin. A monster that adventurers sometimes call a gnome, as it is said to be able to hit the jackpot. They're about the size of a child, and they tend to travel in packs of at least five. It is the kind of monster that even adult men would have a hard time dealing with if they were not armed, and it is recognized as a weak link in the monster ecosystem that exists above wildlife and is good food for orcs and trolls that occasionally appear in the great forests.

[I heard that Beth was dragged off the estate by goblins this time?]

[Oh no, she's been kidnapped by the meanest of the mean.]

Stories sometimes heard in the slums. Goblins were like fairies to the strongest adventurers, occasionally granting them goodies, but to the pickpockets of the slums, they were feared. Rumor has it that orcs have warrior blood in their veins and have a knack for killing their opponents with a single blow... Goblins prefer their victims as raw as possible, so they'll kidnap them if they think they can get away with it, then tear them alive and feast on their flesh.

"Kerrrrr!"

In the heat of the moment, the goblins laugh, baring their protruding fangs as they realize I'm running away. One lunges at me with a sharp rock in his hand.

"Ouch!"

Even a rock, if it hits that pointy thing, will slow it down, leaving it with no way to escape.

[Goblins have no sense of kinship. No matter how much you capture, threaten, or kill one, they just like the fact that it means more food for the day.]

[Oh, so they eat their own kind?]

[The goblins have no concept of camaraderie, only that the more you add, the stronger you get, so when robbing their lairs, it's quickest to kill them all and leave one to show you the way.]

[You cubs, you're not worthy of your own life, even if everyone else is dead, because you're giving away all your wealth to save yourself.]

I thought it was the same with humans and goblins. But looking into their vicious eyes, I can see why the adventurers who captured the goblins said what they did. It was as if they had no interest in anything other than eating and killing.

"Murderer.

The monster's eyes resembled those of a murderer. Occasionally, they glowed red, like the dangerous squires among adventurers, or like those in the slums who had begun to wield the daggers of the Waist Dance because they couldn't keep their stomachs down.

"Ugh!!!"

I, Yang Yi Pansapan, kicked a charging goblin in the head.

"Puck!

I should have just dodged the rocks and run away. The goblins didn't seem to care that one of them was down. They were coming at me from all directions, thrusting rusty knives and sharp wooden spears that cut but were just enough to slice through my stomach. They say the goblins are stronger than children, but if they came at me with such sharp weapons, they would have a feast of my flesh and muscle today.

"Chick!

The bandage rips open with a long tear as the wooden spear pierces it. I'm used to pickpocketing and dodging people's fists, clubs, and stones. Of course, I wasn't used to being stabbed to death, but with the speed of the goblins, I was able to dodge.

"Phew!

My bandages and pants were torn, but not my flesh. One more touch, and the goblin's rusted knife would sicken him and he would collapse. I had maintained my daggers so diligently during my pickpocketing career because, frankly, I didn't think I would survive an accidental cut with a rusty dagger.

"Pfft!

I kicked out, sending a goblin's head into the floor.

"Kerrrrrr!"

The goblins began to shout with excitement, perhaps because they were in the middle of a battle. Their mindset is simple. I'm weak, so I run away, but if you touch me, I fight. So, it seems that the goblins perceived them as more like annoying wild animals, weaker than goblins but harder to catch.

"You bastards!

My temper was starting to rise. Even though they were supposed to be terrifying monsters to me, the sight of them mocking my small stature and lunging at me with their crude weapons was... familiar.

"Daggers.

There were no daggers in their sleeve dances. With my bare hands, I quickly rolled over and grabbed the rusty dagger from the goblin that had just kicked me in the head.

"Whew..."

A dagger move that Eli had taught me in the past. I held the dagger horizontally at the goblins' eye level.

"Look.

While they are mesmerized by the sharp edge of the dagger, the dagger wielder's other hand is ready for something else.

"Grasp!

A large handful of pebbles and sand from the surrounding area is thrown.

"Kerrrrrr!"

The sand hit the goblins in the eyes as they glared at the dagger.

"Fuck!"

Swearing, I quickly plunged my dagger into one's throat.

"Poof!

As if to mark it as a monster, a gush of thick green blood spurted from the creature's throat, the kind of ink you'd find in a clothing store with dye.

"Shit!

Whether it was a rookie mistake or the dagger was too rusty, the dagger was too deeply embedded to pull out of the goblin's throat.

"Kerrrrrr!"

One of the goblins, rubbing the sand out of his eyes, stabbed at the wooden spear. With all the strength he could muster, he tried to pull the dagger out of the goblin's throat with both hands.

"No!

It lunges at me, aiming for my side. My heart thuds with urgency, sparks flying through my body, as if I'm running out of time. I'm out of breath, my eyes bloodshot, my hands and feet shaking, ready to give up...

"I don't want to die.

The primal survival instinct to live somehow, even if it meant being betrayed and used, flooded my mind...

"Pow!

Just then, the purple ring began to glow.

"Shaak!

For a moment, I was blinded. I muttered to myself.

"Noel..."

The dagger drawn from the goblin's throat barely parried the wooden spear and shattered it, cutting through the goblin's entire body.

"This...

A familiar glow, Noelle Deckard, her own...

"Indigo...light.

It was an unknown light that came from her sword.

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