Chapter 86

While Linus was gathering information about the hostages escaping, Flamm was still in isolation, unable to recover her memories.

With nothing to do, she was at a loss in her room.

She could go to Hermann's room to swing a sword, but he also had work to do.

She couldn't visit every day.

To alleviate her boredom, Henriette had been visiting her room for the past few days.

Perhaps it was also to make amends.

Although the unease she felt towards Henriette didn't disappear, she understood that it was an accidental incident.

It seemed that Henriette herself didn't think highly of that particular quirk and wanted to overcome it someday.

However, it was a deeply ingrained impulse that wouldn't easily disappear, and there was no sign of it being resolved.

"Was Ottilie always like this?"

The only common topic between the two was Ottilie.

For Flamm, her very existence was traumatic, and she didn't want to think about her, but they were living in the same building.

Although contact was forbidden by order, just knowing she was nearby made her uneasy.

When asking Henriette about her, Flamm hoped to find some weakness.

"Yes, she was cute when she was a child, but from when... no, it started when I couldn't spend as much time with her due to my work."

"Is that why she became so... obsessed with you?"

Henriette and Ottilie had lived in the same neighborhood since they were young.

Ottilie, the second daughter, didn't receive good treatment at home and looked up to Henriette like an older sister.

However, when Henriette joined the military, they couldn't spend as much time together.

The longer they were apart, the more Ottilie's affection became distorted, and she took up the sword to get closer to her beloved older sister.

Henriette blamed the time they couldn't spend together for Ottilie's distortion, but it wasn't the only reason.

It seemed that Ottilie had a twisted preference for specific people's blood since childhood, and they secretly licked each other's blood, hiding it from their parents.

Henriette, aware of the wrongness, would never tell anyone.

"She mastered the same sword techniques as me through self-study and became capable enough to be a vice-general. As the top of the kingdom's army, I should be happy, but I can't be."

To be honest, she was insane.

Learning the rules of slaughter without a teacher or mentor was beyond comprehension.

While others praised her as a "sword genius," that wasn't the case.

"Do you hate Ottilie, Henriette?"

"No, I don't."

Henriette was firm in her answer.

"I wouldn't have taken care of her since childhood if I did. She's still a dear little sister to me."

"Then... I know it's strange for me to say this, but..."

Flamm hesitated before speaking.

"Maybe you should accept her feelings?"

She didn't say, "That way, there would be fewer victims," but Henriette might have understood.

Ottilie's outbursts were driven by the fear that her beloved older sister might belong to someone else.

So she broke the rules to eliminate obstacles.

If Henriette accepted her feelings, the emotional turmoil could be resolved.

However, Henriette shook her head in denial.

"No, it wouldn't be sincere."

This answer was slightly different from what Flamm expected.

Seeking sincerity meant Henriette took Ottilie seriously.

So, there was a chance.

But Flamm shouldn't think too much about it—though she felt a vague unease.

For Flamm, the best outcome would be for them to reconcile and prevent more victims.

But thinking of Ottilie's duality and her demonic expression, she couldn't help but wonder what was so appealing about her.

"Verner asked me something similar before. I gave the same answer."

"Ah, I see."

"Then, you had the same subtle reaction as you do now."

Flamm didn't particularly like Verner, but she could only empathize now.

Henriette smiled wryly and continued.

"Ottilie always tries her best in front of me—well, she's honest and cute, I guess."

You can try hard in front of someone you like.

Flamm understood that feeling.

Probably, the Ottilie others knew and the one Henriette knew were completely different.

"Is she just putting on a facade?"

"No, that's the real Ottilie. The one in front of others is always on edge."

It was an unusually positive interpretation.

Well, as childhood friends, it was understandable to think that way.

But Flamm didn't think Ottilie's expression could be dismissed as "being on edge."

"Can't you calm her down with your words?"

"Well, I'm often told that I don't handle Ottilie well."

Indeed, if Henriette wanted, she could control Ottilie.

A few sweet words, and Ottilie would serve her until death.

But Henriette didn't do that.

Because it wouldn't be sincere.

Human love is sacred and equal, and approaching it with ulterior motives is not allowed—she believed that.

"But as a result, I've inflicted a deep wound on your heart. Maybe it's time for me to reconsider."

Whether she would get closer or farther away, the latter would likely cause more harm—Flamm hoped Henriette realized the risk.

"I don't understand, but as long as I don't have to see her face, that's enough for me."

"I've told her many times not to come near you. I think it's probably safe now."

Flamm wished Henriette would say it more definitively.

But Ottilie wasn't under house arrest.

Henriette had no authority to restrict her freedom without punishment.

So, she couldn't say it definitively.

After the conversation about Ottilie, Henriette said, "I still have work to do," and left the room.

Alone, Flamm drank the lukewarm, slightly sweet tea.

She tried to swallow her uneasy feelings with it, but only the liquid went down.

"What will happen to me from now on..."

She stared at the empty teacup and muttered.

Her memory hadn't returned, and there was no sign of her being allowed outside.

Staying here meant no particular tasks or orders—only growing anxiety every day.

As negative thoughts began to dominate her mind, a knock interrupted her thoughts.

Perhaps Henriette had forgotten something.

She ran to the door, saying, "Who is it?" as she opened it.

"Good afternoon."

—Ottilie said with a full smile.

"Ah...!"

Her blood ran cold, and goosebumps covered her body.

She tried to scream, but no sound came out.

Panicking, she tried to close the door, but Ottilie's foot slipped in.

Flamm pulled the doorknob with both hands.

But her status 0 strength was nothing to Ottilie.

With one hand, Ottilie easily opened the door and grabbed Flamm's collar, bringing her face close.

"..."

Flamm's eyes welled up with tears, and her body trembled.

Ottilie, still smiling, tilted her head and said,

"Will you come with me?"

Then, she released Flamm.

Ottilie turned and walked away.

Flamm, sitting on the floor, watched her.

But when she saw the murderous look in Ottilie's eyes, she quickly stood up and followed her unsteadily.

In the corridor, two guards, presumably on watch, lay unconscious.

◇◇◇

Ottilie chose a route with no guards and brought Flamm to a dim, dusty room in the castle.

The walls were adorned with several swords.

There were also signs of other decorations and a mannequin without clothes.

It seemed to be a former storage room.

Ottilie approached the wall and selected the smallest sword, throwing it to Flamm.

Flamm's body trembled at the clatter.

"Take it."

With an unchanging smile, Ottilie tilted her head and said.

Flamm had no choice but to comply.

She felt she would be killed if she didn't.

With a sweaty hand, she picked up the sword, about fifty centimeters long, by its hilt.

Ottilie smiled.

"Now, the duel is on."

"Wait, what do you mean—"

Thump!

Without waiting for an answer, Ottilie drew her sword and attacked Flamm.

Flamm reflexively stepped back, but the blade sliced her right arm.

"Ah! G... ah, ah...!"

She pressed her wound, her hand covered in blood, and her face turned pale.

"It hurts... it hurts so much...!"

Flamm had no experience, no preparation, and no enchantments.

The pain hit her brain directly, and the wound throbbed.

Most of all, the fear of being attacked by a weapon meant to kill, from someone with hostile intent, intensified the pain.

"It hurts? It hurts? With just this... just this much, do you think my anger will subside... No way in hell!"

Enraged, Ottilie approached Flamm.

She grabbed her by the collar and slapped her with her right hand, still holding the sword.

"Ahh!"

Flamm was thrown back and hit the wall with her back.

"H... h... h... h..."

The shock and fear paralyzed her breathing.

Her lungs spasmed, and oxygen didn't reach her body.

She could barely see Ottilie approaching through tear-blurred vision.

"What were you doing with my sister?"

"I... I... I..."

"What were you doing with my sister?!"

A thrust stopped just beside Flamm's face.

"Ahh!"

Her hair flew, and her earlobe split.

It hurt.

Her arm and ear hurt so much, and she couldn't help but cry, wondering why she had to endure this.

It was so unjust.

Whether it was God or the general, this shouldn't be allowed.

She had said she didn't want this, yet why did she have to suffer so much?

"I... I didn't... do anything..."

"Don't lie, you slut!"

Smack! A powerful slap hit Flamm's cheek.

The impact sent her to the floor.

She pressed her hand to the hit area and sobbed.

"Ha...!"

Another kick hit her face.

Flamm fell backward, hitting her head on the wall.

Her consciousness wavered, and she lay sprawled on the floor.

"You... you were in the same room as my sister... you even spoke to her... you breathed the same air...!"

Her hoarse scream echoed in the room.

Ottilie kicked Flamm's stomach with all her might.

"Ugh... g... g..."

Saliva dripped from her mouth.

Ottilie repeatedly kicked and stomped on her abdomen.

Finally, unable to bear it, Flamm vomited.

"How disgusting! You spoke to my sister with that filthy mouth... you breathed the same air... It's unforgivable!"

"Ah... g... g... g..."

"Judgment, judgment, judgment! This sinner... you deserve unanimous execution for disrupting my and my sister's paradise!"

Flamm, unable to resist, silently—no, unable to due to pain and suffering—begged for help.

(Save me... Dad, Mom... I didn't do anything... I just want to go home...)

What was her sin?

Why did she have to be punished?

She didn't care about her memory; she just wanted to be free.

(Marin... Pile... I want to go back... take me back to Patria... take me back...)

She thought of her parents and friends back home.

She missed them so much.

She couldn't do sports well and often troubled others, but she was happy.

She didn't ask for much.

Just to be in her hometown, she—

(...Wait? Something... feels different)

Flamm's instinct told her.

The deep-seated emotion claimed that it wasn't her true desire.

(I... I wanted... I wanted...)

She still wanted to go home.

But if she was to live peacefully, there must have been someone she wanted to be with.

It was probably the person she had fallen in love with.

The memory was close, but something foreign seemed to block it, a dear someone.

"Ha... ha... ha... Ah, no matter how much I hurt you, it's meaningless... I can't tolerate your existence, your presence here..."

No matter how much she kicked, Ottilie's anger didn't subside.

Or rather, it wasn't the goal from the beginning.

"Such a filthy creature... who just by existing taints my sister..."

Ottilie raised her sword.

She brought Flamm here to eliminate the abhorrent existence that polluted her sister.

The silver blade gleamed above Flamm's head like an executioner's axe.

(...I'm in the way)

Flamm thought.

She felt everything was unjust and selfish, and yet she involved others.

Ottilie, the sealed memory in her brain, the unnecessary foreign object.

"Die... die... die...!"

With raw hatred, Ottilie swung the blade to begin the execution.

Flamm, watching the scene, gripped the sword she had been holding tightly.

Blood from her wound flowed down her arm, wetting the blade.

◇◇◇

When Henriette returned to her room and sat in a chair, someone knocked on the door almost immediately.

"Who is it?"

"...Henriette, I need to talk."

"Hermann? Come in."

Hermann entered, his expression visibly dark.

For someone usually emotionless, it was quite unusual.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"...Flamm is gone."

"Impossible—"

"...Guards were knocked out in front of her room."

Henriette immediately understood what had happened.

Despite her stern warnings—perhaps they had the opposite effect.

"Why does my sister care so much about Flamm?" might have triggered her emotions.

That's why she was often told she didn't handle Ottilie well.

"Hermann, let's split up and search for her!"

"...Understood."

They rushed out of the room in different directions.

But then—

"Ah...!"

A woman's scream echoed from somewhere in the castle.

It wasn't far, probably on the same floor.

Henriette and Hermann exchanged glances and headed toward the source of the sound.

After turning a few corners, they arrived at an unused storage room.

There was no one around.

It was a perfect spot to secretly bring Flamm.

Henriette immediately opened the door and rushed inside.

"Ottilie!"

She called out the perpetrator's name.

But what they saw was completely different from what they expected.

"Ha... ha... ha..."

Flamm, despite her injuries, stood firmly on both feet, breathing heavily, and holding the sword with both hands.

On the other hand, Ottilie—

"Ah... ah, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts...!"

She was desperately holding the gash on the right side of her face with her blood-soaked hand.

"Why... why can you...!"

Through the gaps in her fingers, Ottilie glared at Flamm.

Her murderous intent hadn't subsided.

If anything, it had intensified.

"You can use the rules of slaughter...!"

Ottilie screamed.

It was the bond between her and Henriette.

But Flamm had defiled it.

An unforgivable sin.

She poured all her hatred and anger into her voice and directed it at Flamm.

"Phew..."

But Flamm remained calm.

She steadied her breathing and, with a resolute expression, pointed the tip of her sword at Ottilie.

Despite her earlier fear, she now felt capable of facing the murderous intent head-on.