78 - RUINA

[WARNING: Gore]

"Using your last two teleportation stones for something like this, Master Varlog?" Yilla remarked as Varlog reappeared in their room inside the guild. "And here I thought I was supposed to be the impulsive one," she added with a wry smile.

"Well," Varlog sighed, settling into the chair beside the bed, "after what we've uncovered, you didn't expect me to sit quietly, did you?" He leaned back, a subtle smile crossing his face.

"Ah... Marcilla is as arrogant as she was 16 years ago when she came with the rest of their party to face us. She actually thought those soundproof seals would work on demons of our caliber," Yilla sneered.

"Oh, give the humans a bit of credit, dear Yilla," he replied, gazing up at the ceiling with a relaxed expression. "Their short lives lead them to a narrow, yet overburdened perspective. One that often threatens to burst."

"... Sometimes," he continued, "they need someone else to see for them."

Yilla clutched her hands to her chest, worry flickering in her eyes. "I just hope… it's not too late for Van."

"Let us have faith, dear," Varlog said softly, his gaze steady and reassuring.

==============================

21 years ago…

Nickelson yanked Van's arm, dragging him toward the first battalion's barracks.

"Listen up, folks!" he shouted, rousing everyone awake. Guards turned their attention to Nickelson as he pulled Van along, gripping him tightly by the arm.

"This here is the other summoned 'Hero'... We'll be in charge of his traini@$&^%!*(^&%(!*&^T$--!

'Oh, we're not doing this,' Van thought, cutting off the flashback. 'Not this time. I've had enough of this bullshit.'

He fixed a hard glare on Henry, the guard standing in front of him. "I'm not here to argue. It's obvious why you're here—you want to hurt me again. And you actually think nothing bad's going to happen to you," he growled, holding Henry's gaze.

"Just like back then." His voice faltered as he looked away for a moment, then softened to a murmur. "But honestly, I don't care why you're here. I'm… way too tired to give a damn."

Henry's eyes widened as he took in Van's response. The knights behind him jeered, amused by the exchange.

"Look at Meaty...! Henry, the kid's all grown up!"

"Yeah, I'm actually gettin' scared now…" one muttered with a smirk, shamelessly relieving himself in the corner of the room.

"Shut the hell up, you idiots! Calling him a 'boy'—you're making me sound like that type of person!" Henry barked, snapping his head around to glare at them.

'... I guess I still didn't get that nobility status Nickelson promised... Psche, of course I didn't.'

Van's voice cut through the laughter. "Just one thing before we start," he said, drawing Henry's attention back.

"Oh? Start this?" Henry chuckled. "So, you want a fight now, Meaty? Even retired, we're still A to B ranks by today's standards. We could…"

He reached out, flicking Van's forehead. Van didn't flinch, his gaze steely and unyielding.

"We could take you down with just a flick of our fingers... And if you're thinking of reporting us, don't bother. With your little whore-magnet friend gone, and your..." Henry chuckled darkly. "Your sloppy-seconds mommy practically giving me her blessing to have some fun with you…"

Van's fist clenched, the tendons standing rigid beneath his skin.

'Amoria, letting some street thug approach her like that… It was strange, wasn't it?' The pieces settled uneasily in his mind. 'Her 'blessing,' was it?' So they knew each other...'

His fist tightened further, the thought digging deeper. 'Not that it matters… nothing can hurt me, anyway.'

Yet his grip only grew harder, a faint tremor betraying the tension simmering within.

"There's no one left to save you." Henry continued, voice dripping with menace. "Unless you've got some direct line to Nickelson… but I'd bet he'd be on our side, as well." He leaned closer, a sneer twisting his face.

"So… what was it you wanted to say? And if you think about screaming, we've surrounded this place with soundproof runes." he said, a wicked smile spreading as the others smirked behind him.

"...Before we start," Van said flatly, his voice steady. "I remember every face from my time in those rotten barracks." He looked around, meeting each sneering expression before finally locking eyes with Henry. "But I don't remember you—except from that time at the market. You act like some kind of leader, but I never saw you in the barracks. Not once." He paused, letting the question hang in the air. "Who are you?"

Henry tightened his fist as he looked at Van's stoic gaze.

"You little shit... Still acting so arrogant..!? The only thing that was ever good about you was who your friends were. Goalless... I bet you worked all those years just to get this house. Too bad we'll be taking it in addition to reminding you of your place..." Henry hissed as he began walking around Van, glaring at him.

"But since I'm such a good guy, I'll gladly remind you who I am... We know each other on quite... The intimate level..." He said as he grabbed Van's shoulder from behind.

"You wouldn't know my face..." He said, a sudden shiver sent spiraling down Van's spine.

"Because I was always here... Behind you..." He said as he leaned in, Van's eyes widening as he froze. As he was near Van's ear, he grunted audibly.

[BACKGROUND MUSIC: Rammstein - Sonne [SLOWED] Best Part]

".!!!!"

"Recognize that...?" He said with a leer.

"Hey, Henry the kid's probably traumatize—" The others in the room chatters with a smirk, but a memory then cut through Van's head as he heard Hernry's grunt near his ear

…@%#HOLD%^#@&HIM#^(&@STILL$%… !@^don't let&%GO… FILLE#%@HIM$^%ALMOST THERE%@!… ^%&HOLD#(@%TIGHTER#&%$^#@STEADY(@%HE'S NOT GOING@^#ANYWHERE… can't esc@&!@pe%$^%… just one#%^!@more time$^…**

In one swift motion, Van's hand shot backward, clamping onto Henry's groin with a crushing grip.

"Henry?!" one of the others stammered, their smirks vanishing. "Stop messing around! We came here to rough him up, not—"

"Sound-proof runes, wasn't it?" Van murmured, his voice low and calm as Henry crumpled, his face paling with each tightening squeeze. "Ah… ah… LET… GO…!" Henry gasped, his breath catching as sweat dripped down his forehead.

"Good."

The mocking voices fell silent as Van's grip tightened further. With a brutal twist, he tore through flesh and sinew, the sharp snap of veins and tendons echoing in the room. Henry's scream filled the air, his agony rippling through his companions as they watched in horror, their confidence shattered. Bloodied and torn, Henry's severed groin dangled from Van's hand.

Henry collapsed to his knees, clutching at his mutilated body as blood pooled around him, each scream punctuated by desperate breaths.

"AHHHH!!" *INHALE* "AAAAAAAAAH!!!" *INAHLE* "AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!" Henry cried, his body slowly falling sideways to the ground, still clutching himself in vain.

The others, thunderstruck but undeterred, snapped into action. One of them drew his sword and lunged at Van, the blade aimed directly at his throat.

Van didn't flinch, watching as the sword hurtled toward him. He let it come.

"You're dead!" the man shouted, his voice laced with panic as he channeled Magic into the blade, ready to pierce Van's neck.

The sword shattered upon contact, shards scattering harmlessly.

"What…!?" the attacker managed, his voice dying in his throat as Van's hand shot forward, wrapping around his neck before his second hand plunged into his chest with brutal precision.

"GAH..." The man let out as the bones from his obliterated chest were stabbed into his lungs.

Van's face remained expressionless as he looked down at the man's exposed chest. "So, you do have a heart. Could've fooled me," he said flatly, fingers curling around the bleeding, still-beating organ. With a steady pull, he wrenched it free, fragmented and torn; making the man watch his own heart being pulled out of his chest.

"Hm." Van studied the heart with a detached curiosity, holding the man steady by the throat. "Thought it might come out whole… like in the movies. Guess not... Oh well," He sighed before crushing the scratched, torn and bloodied heart in his fist, its remnants bursting between his fingers.

"It didn't have any value anyway," he murmured, meeting the man's fading gaze. The light left his eyes as he managed a final, desperate plea to his comrades.

"R… run…"

With one last flex, Van's grip tightened, crushing his throat and snapping his neck with a sickening crack. He then let his body fall to the wooden floor. The remaining 10 members all froze, instinctively taking a step back.

Van ducked and picked up the broken sword's handle. As he gripped it, the fragments drifted back to the hilt, reassembling in mid-air, restoring the blade through his passive ability.

"Not to your taste?" Van asked, stepping onto the corpse of the man he'd just killed. "I thought you'd laugh, like you did back then. Isn't it funny when it's done to you?" His smile didn't reach his half-lidded eyes, a coldness radiating from his gaze.

"You… y-you bastard!" one of the remaining men shouted, his voice trembling. Van's head snapped to him. "YOU CAN REVIVE AFTER DEATH! WE CAN'T!"

"Ah…" Van sighed, his expression distant, hands and face splattered with blood and torn flesh. "So, that's why it was all right to do this to me, then? Maybe you're right…" He took a few steps forward, his eyes dark and unfeeling. "But I'm not as nice as you."

"I don't care if you can't revive."

He lifted his gaze, meeting their eyes, each one recoiling under his stare. They could sense it.

'What the hell…!? This isn't… This isn't Meaty! Who is this… monster?!' one of them thought, panic flooding his mind. He turned and bolted toward the window they'd broken earlier, his only hope of escape.

'SCREW THIS!' he screamed internally, but Van's sword hurtled through the air, piercing his skull from behind and exiting through the front like a bullet. He collapsed, blood pooling beneath his body.

"Oh, you don't get to run. Not a single one of you," Van said, his voice steady, almost casual. "You're all staying here. No one leaves this place, not right now. So fight. Struggle if you want. Wriggle and writhe…"

Suddenly, another fractured memory cut through his mind:

%&^@%#(!@STOP$(&^@(&^%PLEASE@&^(@^)@#I732869^@$WANNA27(%^(@&$^GO@^(%(^#%(!HOME@$^i&%!@(&!^%#I38Y79WANT MY@&($^@(&$^MOM@(&^%@(*#%(*MY WORLD&@%(*^@#*

"Too bad you can't revive yourself like I did, huh?" Van murmured, meeting the remaining men's horrified stares.

The knights gripped their swords, steeling themselves, their fear twisted into rage. "ALL AT ONCE! KILL HIM!" one of them yelled, and they charged, weapons drawn and skills activated, their last stand against the figure they no longer recognized.

---------------- Meanwhile, outside the apartment---------

"Haah… Took them long enough," Nickelson muttered as he approached Van's apartment, holding the nobility approval. He glanced up at the building. 'Hm… Looks like Meaty's already in. I was almost certain it was a mistake to send that scout with the contract, considering his ties with the old first battalion… but thankfully, no incidents arose from it.'

He sighed, taking his first step up the stairs.

"Excuse me?" a soft, feminine voice interrupted from behind, accompanied by a light tap on his shoulder.

"Hm?"

'Someone I didn't sense?' he thought, turning slowly. As he faced her, he froze—a young woman stood before him, two heads shorter yet strikingly composed, with crimson hair flowing down her back and skin as smooth as marble.

'YOU…!' Nickelson's eyes widened, scrutinizing her face. 'THE DEMON LORD!' He hurriedly placed his palm on his hilt, his face pale as he was ready to draw his sword.

The girl's voice broke his thoughts. "Sir Nickelson… are you all right?" She leaned in slightly, her eyes filled with curiosity.

Nickelson shook his head, looking more closely. 'No… no horns… It's not her.' He let out a quiet breath. 'Of course, it can't be.'

'She can't be here.'

"Yes, I'm fine. And busy. What do you need, citizen?" he replied, regaining his composure as he turned to face her fully.

"Hmm… Apologies for interrupting," she said, her gaze flicking to the parchment in his hand. "Are you, by any chance, here to deliver that to Van?"

Nickelson's eyes narrowed. "…State your business. Why would that matter to you?"

'She called him Van…' Nickelson noted mentally, swallowing hard as he felt his muscles tense, though he remained outwardly composed.

"Ah, I suppose introductions are in order!" she said brightly. "I am… Falicia. I'm a former slave, released from the… horrible demons who tortured me every day, brutally, since I was a child. Until Van saved me that day, 16 years ago, when they went to defeat the Demon Lord…" She paused, glancing down briefly. "I heard from Marcy he's around here. May I deliver that parchment to him myself?" She extended her arm, graceful yet firm, her gaze unwavering as she met Nickelson's eyes.

Nickelson's gaze fell to her outstretched hand. 'Graceful… but unyielding,' he thought, feeling his grip on the parchment tighten as his mouth went dry.

"And if I don't…?" he challenged, his voice low, his breaths short and controlled.

"Hm… That would be… disappointing," she replied softly, her eyes steady, unfazed.

They stood in silence, the night settling heavily around them. The air felt unnaturally still, as though even the wind dared not disturb the girl's crimson hair or the dark, adorned gown that cloaked her. Rather than intimidated, she seemed almost amused, intrigued by his resistance.

The moment stretched on, feeling endless. The longer Nickelson looked at her, the more she seemed to merge with the surrounding darkness, less a person than a presence within it. His heart felt suspended, each beat uncertain, as he weighed his next move.

After a brief frown and a steadying breath, Nickelson reached out, finally placing the parchment in her waiting hand.

"Thank you!" she said, flashing a smile as she moved past him, taking his tension and the suspense with her. She began ascending the stairs, pausing only to speak over her shoulder. "You have a daughter, don't you?"

Nickelson froze, his breath catching.

"Oh, what a lucky girl she must be! Send her my regards," she continued, her voice calm. "She must be so proud to have such a…"

"Fearless…"

"Man protecting her." Her words lingered in the air, deliberate and unsettling, a faint smirk playing on her lips. As she resumed her ascent, she added, "Thank you for safeguarding this fair city."

Nickelson stood motionless, watching her disappear up the stairs, before he turned and strode into the night without a word.

'Now, then...' She thought with a light smile as she gracefully opened the door and closing it after gently entering through.