Chapter 22 - Cleaning Up

 "We are alone. Yver went out to make arrangements for her visitors."

 Margaret cornered Fay by the stairs, her eyes still contained the fire from earlier. Fay turned to walk back in the direction she came from, but Margaret's hand shot out like the wind and grabbed a silent Fay, holding her tight, "Hear me out."

 "You have nothing to say to me." Fay tried to shrug off the arm, but it grasped tight. She sighed, a sense of tiredness in a her as she loosened up. It was hopeless anyway. She turned around, and held the urge to slap the child in the face, "I find you amusing."

 "Don't think yourself special, you twerp. The only reason I am doing this is to understand if they — No — you are following him of your own will, or carrying out a mere command." The light in her eyes grew fierce, "I want to understand the lengths of—"

 "I understand you want to be sure if the actions you take are of your own volition, and believe me when I stand this, you never will." Fay sighed after a while, "While Requiem has given me hope when I had lost it all, he is extremely mysterious. You said it yourself."

 "The Requiem that I know would not belittle himself with slaves!" she barked furiously, as if the final thread had snapped, and it all came loose. Margaret glared at Fay furiously. There was no way this they— this woman— No. She followed him out of her own will! 

 She had so many chances to slaughter his pathetic self where he stood, so why did she hesitate every time? What air did he carry that made it so ridicule for her to go against him? Why had he, of all the people she knew, taking a liking to a mere slaves… somehow below a commoner!

 "That look in your eyes…" her soft voice turned cold as Fay tugged away one last time, pulling her arm from the frozen up Margaret's hand, "Is that which I detest so much. Following Requiem is not only a means to attain freedom in his grace, but revolt against your pathetic misgivings."

——

 "Wait!"

 The blade fell nevertheless and blood splattered across the walls. Requiem flicked his blade and sighed exasperated, his gaze cold as he stepped back, away from the body. The woman beneath him bled profusely from the wide gash that ran from the top of her head to her lower abdomen.

 ⦗Killed 1 Commoner⦘

 ⦗Earned 1 DP⦘

 'No system notification?' Requiem frowned. He had expected there to be some reaction from the system at least, but so far there had been nothing. There was an ominous feeling in the air, and then he began a hunt, picking up on his urges to settle that feeling.

 Rebels were silenced and those who opposed his appearance, and fought to initiate one of their choosing, crawled back into the shadows in silence. He had noticed some owning contacts to bigger factions outside the city, fools who would soon come to claim a free prey.

 He'd be here, laughing as the hunter becomes the hunted.

 "I guessed this was the last of the rebellion. You should leave the killing to us." The boy standing by his side, Emerald, spoke calmly as he watched the sight with a shaky gaze. Unlike most, he wasn't fond of killing his enemies in such a cruel manner. 

 'And give up these precious Divine Points?' he turned to the boy, resisting the urge to unleash his dirty glare, wearing a polite smile instead as he spoke, "Think of this as sport for me. I take relish in a massacre of those who struggle against me. It enhances me, in body and spirit."

 That was a nice way of putting it.

 Emerald looked as he had learned the secrets of the universe, a light circling in his eyes. As they shifted their discussion to the political implications of this upheaval, Requiem narrowed his eyes. He noticed that the child before him knew quite much, heh, for a commoner.

——

 "I am a bad person for taking slaves and he is a hero who does the exact same thing?" Margaret sat on the bed beside Fay, hugging her feet and burying her face in her knees, her hair loose around her small frame, "Be honest. Is there anyway that is not unfair?"

 "Hmm, let's see. The motives I guess? You both hope to use us as pawn for your selfish goals but only one of you did not dedicate a room to torturing their slaves into submission." Fay glanced at the silent Margaret, "In the eyes of the servants there are two masters, a demon and an angel."

 Fay threw her arms over the curled up Margaret, "You see, the better you treat people, the less likely they are going to stab you in the back or be swayed by the fools, who had dragged them from their homes in chains, with mere words. I understand what you are trying to do."

 Margaret froze up.

 "As Requiem's favourite pawn, respected by all other slaves, they are more likely to follow me in a rebellion that some random woman who had no problem chaining and torturing them. Sadly, even though I only know how to count to twenty, I am not stupid."

 "I see that you saw through it all, but did you expect a scenario where…" Margaret loosened her knees, turning around to stare at the smiling Fay, a cold smile also forming on her face, "I discussed it with someone else before you? Someone with more motive…"

 Fay froze up, feeling a metal pressing against her neck, her gaze growing as cold as ice. Then, she burst out laughing and so did the shadow behind her, revealing itself to be a woman. Margaret didn't leave herself out, joining in their laughter until her head ached as hard as her stomach.

 "I guess that person was not stupid as well." Fay stared at Margaret, undaunted.