Chapter 23

The boy stood there, taking a deep breath, tightly gripping the letter containing the secret that his mother had given him.

---

That boy was experiencing killing someone for the first time today.

"......Can I really do it......?"

The boy was terrified.

Despite being a being cursed with the blood of the "demon race," which was detested by everyone in this world, the boy was afraid of seeing blood.

--- Seeing blood.

That meant, in a sense, seeing his own blood.

From birth, he had been beaten and kicked, never treated the same as a "human."

If he said something, he would be hit.

If his eyes met someone's, he would be slapped.

Even if he said nothing, just being there would result in being kicked around; it was a common occurrence.

The boy was born to be such an existence.

Occasionally, he wondered.

Why was he treated so cruelly?

He had questions.

But he never voiced them.

Once, when he did, he was hit so hard that his face was swollen, and he was given only water for three days.

The boy had been subjected to many cruel acts by adults.

But he never wanted to do such things to others.

He understood the pain of being hit.

It wasn't that the boy was particularly empathetic or could understand others' feelings.

It was fundamentally different from that.

The boy could "sense" what others were thinking.

If he wanted to, he could see into the depths of others' hearts as clearly as if they were in his hands.

Because of this, he was even more oppressed when it was known.

--- Knowing what others were thinking.

Feeling their emotions.

Being known.

Having secrets revealed.

That was why it was eerie, frightening, and unpleasant.

--- A very unpleasant creature that looked like a human.

That was why the "demon race" was...

Shunned, isolated, and beaten more often just for making eye contact.

Thus, the boy was hated and beaten at every opportunity.

Being hit with a reason.

Being kicked and trampled without reason.

It was the norm.

Over and over, beaten and kicked as a matter of course.

The sensation of pain seeped into his body.

Therefore, the boy never thought of doing such things to others.

He didn't want to make others suffer the same pain he felt.

For a child who could "sense" others, it was a double pain.

That's why the boy never hurt anyone.

Even if he was beaten badly, it was better than hitting back.

That's how he lived.

--- But today, he had to do it.

Not just hurt, but kill.

Or else, he would suffer even worse.

Not just himself, but the other slave children, everyone.

--- So, he had to kill properly.

"If you do as I say, I'll give you delicious food."

That's what the man said.

So, he had to kill.

Every single one. Adults and children. Everyone.

Then, he wouldn't be beaten without reason.

And he would be given delicious food every day.

The man promised him that.

The man beat him.

Beat everyone.

But he never broke a promise.

If he broke a promise, he was beaten.

If he kept a promise, he was praised.

So, he would kill.

Because there was a promise.

The man's thoughts were completely unreadable.

He seemed to be using a magical device to prevent it.

This was common.

But the man made a promise.

Besides, today, even someone like him could be of use.

Thinking about it made him feel proud.

He might die today.

But he would be of use to the country.

That was a very proud thing.

--- Think that way.

He was told to think that way before setting out.

The country that had shunned and oppressed him and his kind since birth.

But the country where he was born and raised.

If he could be of use to it—maybe it was a good thing.

Many people would die from now on.

No, he would kill them.

Because he was the one who controlled and brought the ugly monster, the Black Death Dragon.

The "demon race" apparently had this power from birth.

The cursed power to communicate with and control monsters.

He learned this from an older demon he met by chance.

Long ago, it was just the ability to control livestock.

Then it was used on monsters and in wars to kill many.

That's why everyone detested them.

It couldn't be helped, they said.

--- Born to communicate with monsters, a heretic.

A cursed creature.

He had been raised hearing these things.

Even someone like him wanted to be of use to others.

As a "demon," he wanted to be praised for being useful to others.

So, despite his trembling, he resolved to do it today.

Even if it was scary and unpleasant, he would do it—

Because it was the only thing he could do.

--- But the moment the boy made this resolve, the concealment he was using was suddenly stripped away.

"......Ah......?"

Surprised that the concealment, which was supposed to be reinforced by a magical device, was so easily removed, the boy involuntarily cried out.

At that moment, he thought, "Oh no..."

The Black Death Dragon's eyes glared at him.

He had made a mistake.

He had lost his concentration.

As a result, the mental control over the Black Death Dragon was broken.

Now, the Black Death Dragon saw him only as prey.

This creature had already learned to kill humans and eat their flesh.

It was brought to him in that state.

There was no time to reapply the mental control—

He would die like this.

He could see the Black Death Dragon opening its mouth wide and raising its massive claws high.

Ah, I will be torn apart and die.

At that moment, the boy thought from the bottom of his heart.

--- Ah, it's really good that I can die here.

If he died here, he wouldn't have to hurt anyone.

He wouldn't have to feel the pain he caused others.

At the same time, he felt guilty about this thought.

Because of his mistake, someone else might be beaten badly.

But he was only happy about his own relief.

--- I'm sorry.

The boy was apologizing to no one in particular.

I have always been a bad boy—

Bad boys are punished—

That's what he was taught.

--- I'm sorry for not being of any use until the end.

Ah, so this is my punishment.

For being of no use.

For being born with a cursed power.

And for caring more about myself than others.

--- It's a punishment.

For being a cursed child, for existing in this world.

The moment the ferocious Black Death Dragon's claws were brought down—

The boy was praying.

Demons have no gods—

They are not allowed to have faith.

But if he died and was reborn, he could live differently—

He believed this a little, something he had heard somewhere.

So, he prayed earnestly to no one in particular.

If I can be reborn—may I not be beaten so badly in my next life—

And may I be of some use to someone—

That was almost all of the boy's wish.

But a little greed crept in at the end.

One more thing, if my wish can come true—

--- I would like to eat delicious food, even just once—.

That was the boy's entire wish as he faced death.

The boy closed his eyes and waited for that moment.

But—

That moment never came.

The Black Death Dragon's claws did not tear him apart.

Because—

"Parry"

A stranger suddenly appeared.

The man, with a black sword in his hand, deflected the Black Death Dragon's claws, which were supposed to bring death to the boy.

---

[Author's Note]

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