Cladia blocked the red-haired man's attack with the side of her sword. For a normal human, no—even a trained swordsman—blocking such an attack would have been nearly impossible. To be fair, Cladia barely managed it herself. The training she received from Eimme was truly paying off. In just one month, she had surpassed most adventurers in swordsmanship.
The man was surprised. It was obvious he hadn't expected this. He had planned to injure her shoulder and render her unable to fight, thus capturing her with minimal harm. But his plan had failed. He thought Cladia was a novice. After all, just a month and a half ago, she had been a slave. The idea that she could improve her sword skills so drastically in such a short time seemed impossible. At least, that's what he believed. But Eimme's training was on an entirely different level.
Cladia took a few steps back. The man's shock was evident. He was distracted, and she seized the opportunity. She made three swift, stabbing thrusts at him. The man dodged two of them but wasn't lucky enough to avoid the third. A cut appeared on his arm. It hurt. It hurt a lot! An absurd amount, actually. Such a minor wound shouldn't have caused this level of pain. It was as if someone had pressed a red-hot metal against his skin.
Normally, he could endure such pain; he had experienced worse during his training. But this unexpected agony threw him off balance. He fell to his knees.
"Akh!" he screamed in pain.
***
It was nighttime. Outside, it was almost pitch black. Apart from the faint light reflected by the moon, nothing illuminated the streets. The sky was beautiful, with every star clearly visible—a masterpiece of nature.
A red-haired boy walked down the street, heading home. He regretted staying out so late. His mother was sick and in a fragile state. She cared deeply for him. Coming home late always worried her and made her anxious. The boy was fully aware of this.
His grandfather should have been following him. Right? When he turned around, he couldn't see him. But he wasn't worried. He had lived here his entire life and knew everyone in this small village. He attributed his inability to see his grandfather to the darkness and continued on his way.
A short while later, he heard a man's voice calling out to him.
"Hey! Boy! I'm talking to you! Are you deaf? Answer me."
"W-were you talking to me?"
"Are you stupid, kid? Is there any other boy around here?" A faint light emanated from the direction of the man's voice. The red-haired boy could now clearly see the man's face. It was evident the man had lit a lantern.
"W-what do you want from me?" The boy was starting to feel scared. He was sure he didn't know this man. What was he doing here at this hour?
"Today is going to be the most important day of your life, kid! I have an offer for you."
"An offer?"
"Yes, yes. An offer. You know that girl you're always hanging out with, the one with the red eyes…"
"Yes?" The boy was surprised. Why was this man asking about her? And how did he know Dia?
"I'll give you two hundred silver coins if you manage to make her drink the liquid in this bottle. Do you understand?" The man pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his cloak. Inside was a green liquid.
"Huh? What nonsense are you talking about? Get away from me! Stay away!" The boy tried to run, but the man grabbed his arm, preventing his escape.
"Don't be so hasty. You have a mother, don't you? A very sick mother. Who knows how much she loves her dear son? How tragic would it be if you found her not waking up tomorrow morning?" The man's voice was mocking yet terrifying. No, the mocking tone made his words even more chilling.
"Don't you dare touch my mother!"
"That depends on you, little boy. If you do as I say, nothing will happen to her. Understand?"
The boy fell to his knees. Or rather, he collapsed. His legs couldn't support him anymore. Tears streamed down his face. His nose was red and runny from crying. He was a pitiful sight.
"Fine! Damn it, fine! I'll do it. Just don't touch my mother." He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood.
"Good boy." The man handed him the bottle.
"Why don't you do your dirty work yourself?"
"That girl's father isn't human. He's a giant. Giants are excellent with magic. Clearly, he's placed some protective spell on his daughter. Someone suspicious like me can't harm her. It has to be done by someone she trusts. That's you."
The boy was torn. He couldn't bear the thought of harm coming to his mother. The mere thought shattered his heart. But Cladia was more than a friend to him; she was like a sister. He couldn't do this to her. But he had no choice. He had to do it!
He made his decision. He would do it. But at least he wanted their last moments together to be happy. For that reason, he planned a cliché yet perfect romantic moment for their final time together.
***
The sun had risen. The task was done. He had betrayed the person he saw as a sister. He didn't know what they planned to do to her, but it was undoubtedly something terrible. Yet his mother was more important. He felt sorrowful but not regretful.
When he returned home, his mother was peacefully asleep in her bed. There were no injuries, and she was breathing. But there was a foul smell in the house. A metallic smell. Blood.
He panicked. His mother showed no signs of bleeding and looked perfectly fine. Where was the smell coming from?
He followed the scent to the cellar. Opening a crate that should have been filled with vegetables, he was met with a horrifying sight.
It was his grandfather. Or what was left of him. His eyes were burned out. He was dead. His body was dismembered and stuffed into the crate. Adding to the grotesqueness of the scene was another detail. Coins! The two hundred silver coins promised by the man were inside the crate, soaked in blood.
The boy lost consciousness and collapsed on the spot.
When he woke, he slowly opened his eyes. He was in a bright room. There was nothing in the room except a single door.
The door opened, and the man from before walked in.
"Hey, kid. You're joining the organization. From now on, I, Mitchel, will personally train you. Feel honored!"
***
Eimme narrowly avoided the dagger. Her clothes were slightly torn at the corner. She was angry. Or she should have been. But she was calm. This was a duel. The woman hadn't cheated or anything. If she had taken damage, it was due to her own mistake. She wasn't mad; in fact, she was pleased, excited. This woman had managed to damage her clothes. Eimme was beginning to respect her. This was turning into an enjoyable duel.
Alize's hand began to glow red. She placed her hand on the ground, causing it to crack. Eimme didn't know how she was doing it. She wasn't experienced in magic. But it was entertaining. While she was slightly annoyed by the inclusion of magic in a swordfight, she chose to ignore it.
Eimme was a bit puzzled. Why had Alize done this? Yes, the ground was cracked, but it didn't have much effect on their duel.
Alize swiftly picked up small stones from the broken ground and hurled them at Eimme. Besides the two daggers she held, she had no other weapons. This wasn't her usual fighting style. She thought to use the stones as makeshift throwing knives. But this wasn't the primary reason she had cracked the ground.
She was certain this gray-haired woman wasn't human. She couldn't defeat her. At least not in a fair fight. If by chance the woman's foot slipped into one of the cracks, she could gain the upper hand. That was her plan, if it could be called that. It was all she could do with what she had. During the fight, she tried to maneuver the gray-haired woman closer to the cracks, hoping to unbalance her and make her fall.
She made her move. Once more, she aimed for the woman's legs. Eimme didn't bother avoiding the attack. She didn't need to. Alize's dagger struck Eimme's leg and shattered.
The dagger broke upon hitting her leg.
Broke.
The dagger.
When it struck her leg.
It shattered.
Before Alize could recover from the shock, Eimme grabbed her by the hair and threw her directly upward. Alize flew about two meters into the air before starting to fall. Eimme swung her sword at Alize's arm mere milliseconds before she hit the ground. Alize's right arm was severed.
She screamed in pain. The agony of falling face-first from such a height combined with the pain in her arm was unbearable. But the worst pain wasn't physical. It was humiliation. This gray-haired psychopath was toying with her like she was a mere plaything. Her honor was shattered.
"Hey? You haven't given up already, have you?" Eimme's voice was calm and devoid of concern. She didn't even acknowledge the severe injury she had inflicted.