webnovel

Heroes to Hunted

[The chapters are typically somewhat long for a webnovel (2000+ words) and the pacing is slow (sometimes overly so and I'm working on that). Only proceed if you like a slow burning but well fleshed out story with side characters that are more than just side-pieces to the MC. I explore them just as much as I do him.] "There are no heroes in war, only monsters." This was an outlook that Sato Katsuro, a man in service to the military, formed after being broken down by years of gore-filled battle. It was an outlook he took even to his grave, but what about beyond it? Transmigrated into a new land of fantasy and tasked to be the very thing he'd given up on becoming, Sato would have to fight a new war. A war between mankind and an oppressive enemy regime run by a cohort of demons. But, as Sato learned in his past, war wasn't always what it seemed. In war, truths were lies, friends were enemies, and the so-called heroes...they were often the villains. Additional Tags: Dark, realistic fantasy

Sir_Killington · 奇幻
分數不夠
128 Chs

An Unexpected Meeting

The time finally arrived for the main event of the evening, at least according to Weiser. During it, my countrymen and I were expected to mingle and dance with the local nobles of this domain, presumably to introduce ourselves.

He also mentioned that the manor's fabled lord would finally appear. Hopefully, they'd be more forthcoming with information than Weiser was, but I wasn't holding my breath.

Corridor through corridor, stairwell through stairwell, the sheer size and complexity of the mansion would put the best labyrinths to shame.

'Don't the servants of this mansion get lost? Doesn't the lord get lost?!' I imagined the irritating personality of the person who designed this place; it made me growl in frustration.

As we walked, my mind grew louder, filled with new complaints. 

The frivolity of this mansion was unbelievable! All anyone needed was shelter, food, and a good vantage point. I was pretty sure golden-coated doors didn't fit within those criteria.

Eventually, I ran out of things to groan about, and everything went quiet. But, wait…everything was quiet.

I turned toward where the group was. "Oh…"

Just like that, I was left with solitude as my only company within a mansion where every hallway was more identical than the last. I wasn't sure how, but I managed to slip away from the guards' notice. They must've been too preoccupied managing the herd to worry about a single outlier.

Seeing such a turn of events, I had one thought.

'Lucky,' I smirked to myself.

I wasn't sure where the guards went, but I was finally free to loot and leave. I was off in search of an armory, pantry, or anywhere I could gather travel gear.

Sadly, snooping was a tad difficult. Every door was sealed tight, and I wasn't about to start randomly breaking hinges. That'd cause too much noise and commotion.

I walked some time longer and arrived in yet another identical hallway. Again, everything about it was the same, except for a tiny irregularity.

As I said, each door I previously encountered was sealed, preventing nosey interlopers from entering.

However, there was a peculiar one here that immediately snagged my interest. It was slight, but I could see the darkness as it peered past a stray crack forming between the door and its frame.

'Should I go inside?' It was an appealing thought but also one to be cautious of. An open room in a house of locked doors was something very alarming.

'Maybe there's intel, or maybe there's someone in there already.'

Even if I only learned about the manor's lord, that would be enough intel for now. But, on the other hand, I doubt they'd appreciate a snooping guest, so there was bound to be some consequence if I was discovered.

Unmoving within a vacant hallway and staring at the open door, I pondered the pros and cons of what I was about to do.

"The room is dark," I muttered, "so it's is probably empty. If I do get discovered, I'll just say I got lost." Even I cringed at how stupid and cliche that excuse was, but whatever. It wasn't all that far-fetched, considering this fun house of a mansion…

"Alright," I steeled my resolve, "f*ck it. No reward without risk." 

I reached forward and cracked the door open, little by little. It faintly squealed with every millimeter, but not enough to cause alarm.

The room was cloaked in shadow. Even darker than the lightless nights on the war front. Although my eyes had yet to adapt, I sensed her.

An icy chill erupted through my spine, resonating within every bone in my body. My veins stood deathly still as my blood coagulated just from the fear. Even the hairs on my neck had frozen stiff with dread.

It was the presence of a predator.

I reached for the knife I'd stolen and stood with my guard up in the doorway. I hadn't moved an inch as I waited for my eyes to place a face to whoever… whatever was activating my fight or flight response.

When the veil of complete darkness finally lifted, she came into view.

There, toward the far middle of the room and near a large bay window, sat a young woman in an overly extravagant chair. Her body was rigid while she gazed upon the starry sky. Then, as if returning her stare, the moon completely enshrouded her in a pale, silvery light. 

She was so transfixed by the sights outdoors that my presence seemed to elude her notice.

Her physical features were as pale as the light encircling her. Her long blonde hair, fair flawless skin, everything about her was incredibly doll-like. The only exception to that was her eyes, which were a profound deep red. It was as if they had drained every last drop of blood from the rest of her body. The only thing that exceeded the red in her eyes was her gothic-styled, laced dress.

"Hey," she turned, locking her eyes with mine, "do you…like the night?" She spoke in few words with a voice devoid of tone.

Her sudden acknowledgment of my presence startled me, and I tightened my hand around my hidden dagger.

"Excuse me?" I said with caution and maintained my distance.

"The night…" she paused, presenting me with an expression as monotone as her voice. "Do you like it?"

Her second clarification didn't solve my confusion. It was too odd of a question, especially when talking to a stranger.

Factoring the bizarre conversation starter into her ominously dangerous presence, I considered the possibility of a strategic retreat. But, ignoring my misgivings, I went along with it. 

"I guess I do."

She shifted a foot to the edge of her seat and rested her chin on her knee. 

"Why?" she asked, a strand of hair falling over her face.

The follow-up put me more on the spot than I'd expected. I knew I always enjoyed myself the most after dark but did I have a reason for it?

I immersed myself in deep thought, replaying all my memories and searching for the "why." Each shared a common theme: a silent atmosphere, a roaring fire, and good food (at least by hunger's standards).

I felt foolish for not realizing it earlier. "The battlefield is more peaceful at night."

"Battlefield?" she stared at me quizzically. "Are you…a warrior?"

'Why did I mention that?' I froze with surprise. I always avoided discussing war-oriented topics, so why did I talk about it with this girl? Usually, I had mental walls up to explicitly dodge these conversations, so for me to be the one to instigate them was unheard of.

I brushed it off, not wanting her to delve deeper into my background. "It isn't important," I asserted, hoping that this girl wasn't the badgering type.

Luckily, she didn't seem fazed by my refusal to continue. Instead, she broke eye contact and returned her attention to the stars.

It fascinated me to see her so fixated on the sky. She didn't seem to have any worries or cares; she just watched as the stars slowly shifted across the heavens. 

I forgot about the fear her presence had instilled in me. With the unease no longer plaguing me, I saw no threat, only an eccentric girl with odd conversational tendencies. I kept my hand near my blade, just in case, but became less hostile. Thanks to this, I noticed a detail I hadn't spotted earlier. 

Contrasting her appearance with the villagers from earlier, she was definitely of some "nobility." A fact that likely meant she carried lucrative information.

On the plus side, she also seemed more straightforward than Weiser, though a bit cryptic. So, supposing I could keep the conversation going, talking to her might've yielded some valuable knowledge.

"Do you?" I asked.

"Do I?" she tilted her head in confusion.

"Do you like the night?"

Her head shifted over her knee as she angled her gaze downward. "I suppose…I do."

"Why do you like it?"

Her knee fell from her chin, and her foot returned to the ground. Then, she slowly turned to face me again. "Food," she said, matter-of-factly.

Her justification was even less defined than her answer was. I guess I needed to press her a little more. 

"Food?" I asked.

"Food," she nodded. "It's easier to get…at night."

Hers was an honest and straightforward answer. An answer with no nuances or complexities. I completely respected it! I loathed the scheming types, so encountering an earnest person with such simple desires was a welcome surprise.

I still harbored suspicions toward this manor, Weiser especially. But, despite that, I was oddly becoming comfortable here...with her. In some way, I felt an odd level of understanding with her.

In this room, illuminated only by the night sky, we both were completely isolated from the woes of the outside world.

Silence ensued between us for a few minutes. Personally, I relished in them and indulged in each passing second. Though I knew I should've been questioning her, I just wanted a break from it all, even if only for a moment.

"Hey," she called out, "could I ask…another question?"

"Sure. What do you need?" Knowing her previous question, I readied myself for anything.

She stacked her hands over her lap. "The food, did you all enjoy it?"

She could only have referenced the dinner, but I decided I should verify it anyway. "By food, do you mean the dinner party?"

She nodded in silent affirmation.

Memories of my excited countrymen, happily and greedily stuffing their faces, filled my mind. "Yes, I believe everyone did." I was also reminded of the cutlery thief, "...some a little too much."

Slightly but noticeably, her expressionless face gave way to a subtle smile at my words. "I'm glad," she said.

I wonder why she was concerned about our dinner. 'Does she have some connection to Weiser?' 

I had no reason to let my curiosity fester, so I asked her. "Could I ask why you're curious about the dinner, Miss?"

She looked at me, puzzled. "Isn't that…something a host should be…concerned about?"

"Host?" I was still perplexed. "What do you mean?"

She brought her hand to her chest as she spoke. "I am…Kirina Vlad. The current lord…of this domain."

I avoided showing it, but my mind became a maelstrom of emotions, ranging between hostility, confusion, and shock. 'Kirina Vlad... Isn't that the name our assailants mentioned?!' 

I squeezed my knife tight again.

If I recall correctly, the bandits implied she was one of the "Devil King's dogs." That meant she was our enemy, according to Weiser. In that case, why would he insinuate that his master was our adversary?

'That last thing she said, didn't she claim to be this manor's lord?' The thought of her being the elusive "lord" was difficult to digest. However, it was more plausible than her being an essential figure in an enemy regime.

Either way, this wasn't a decision to make through brief consideration. I needed more information before I decided which of the two, if not both, factions was my enemy. 

I wouldn't ignore what those "bandits" told me, but I refused to blindly believe them too. If I needed to investigate deeper, then so be it.

With the decision made, I took a deep breath, caged my lingering thoughts on the matter, and continued our conversation as usual. 

I definitely didn't want to reveal any suspicious behaviors if she was an enemy.

"I see," I tried smiling, "if you're the host, thank you for your courteous hospitality."

Oddly, she avoided my gaze and fixed her sullen eyes on the ground. "You shouldn't…thank me," she said solemnly.

Her reaction alarmed me, so I tried interrogating her further. "Why shouldn't I thank you?" I crouched low to the ground to meet her lowered head.

However, she provided no answer. Instead, she only bid me farewell by waving me out the door.