Chapter 14
At that moment, the boy, who had been watching for an opening, struck again. Half a dozen hidden blades shot out from his sleeves, flashing like streaks of light.
By the time Hill sensed the danger pressing in, it was already over. The man had knocked aside every projectile at a speed too fast to follow and was now checking her body for any new wounds.
“Ghk—!”
The boy groaned, a blade embedded in his lower abdomen and another in his arm. Still, the man did not even look at him. After lifting and parting the torn fabric to confirm there were no other injuries, he finally gave a small nod.
Only then did he turn his gaze to the half-collapsed boy.
“Did Raban send you?”
“Do you think I’d answer, you filthy w***e’s spawn?”
The boy spat blood-tinged saliva. It didn’t even travel far, splattering weakly at his feet. The man didn’t ask anymore. He merely confirmed that Hill’s wounds were closing, then gently kissed her pale eyelids, now faint from blood loss.
“My Hill truly does cling stubbornly to life. And so obedient, too.”
“Go to hell, you mad tyrant—kgh!”
As the boy cursed him, his body jerked violently. The man had crushed his left eye. As the boy writhed, clutching the ruined socket, the man muttered to himself,
“You’re too loud. You’re getting in the way of hearing Hill breathe.”
“Ghk… ggh…”
“For now, it would be best to lay you somewhere comfortable, Hill.”
His voice was gentle, almost affectionate, as he moved. Leaving behind the boy groaning and clutching his face, and the two corpses sprawled in the corridor, he walked on. His footsteps echoed softly across the blood-spattered floor until he reached a chamber where bone ash was stored. He opened a small door beside it.
Laying Hill down on a low but surprisingly wide bed, he traced her pale throat with his fingers. The wounds had nearly healed, though the stains of blood remained vivid. Bowing his head, he pressed his lips to her skin and began to lick away the dried blood. The sound of wet flesh touching and parting was faint but unmistakable.
Once he had erased every trace from her neck, he licked his lips while being reluctant to stop. A newly sprouted desire glinted in his red eyes. Breathing long and deep, he let his gaze travel down her body. With her clothes torn, her bare s*x lay fully exposed.
Another man’s eyes had looked there.
A surge of impulse struck him. He buried his face between her white thighs.
Fortunately, he sensed no trace of another man inside her. Even unconscious, Hill’s body was sweet, and merely tasting her brought him pleasure. He worked his tongue insistently past the closed lips, pleasure and elation carrying him into rapture. Rocking his hips unconsciously like a wooden doll, the man spilled himself.
Hill lay limp, like a corpse, showing no response. As he exhaled wetly, savoring the moment, a thought suddenly surfaced.
I still need to take the other eye.
Remembering what he had nearly forgotten, he straightened. Yes, there was something he still had to do.
He had to give out proper punishment to the insect that had dared to wound Hill and attempt to defile her.
And then…
There was no need to ask who stood behind that insect. In this country, only one person could dare such a thing.
“To think you’d break the rules first. I didn’t expect something so bold.”
The man murmured with a languid smile and kissed Hill’s slightly furrowed brow, then stepped outside and locked the door firmly.
Now he had to collect the insect and capture its master alive.
* * *
She had a nightmare.
It was so vivid it was indistinguishable from reality. Those who had died because of her wailed as vengeful spirits, while darkness moved like a living thing, crushing her beneath it.
She flailed helplessly, unable even to scream, until she finally woke. Her body was drenched in sweat. Gasping for air, she looked around in a panic, unsure whether she was still dreaming.
As she scanned the room, the vivid memories of the nightmare faded like mist. Only the lingering horror remained, like a scar, and soon even the details of the dream slipped beyond her grasp.
Where was she…?
Her thoughts were sluggish from the dream’s residue. She frowned, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings. The room was smaller than the one where she had been confined. Painted a dull, gloomy gray, it was sparse to the point of bleakness.
Why was she here…? Ah.
Her memories began to return, slowly. Recalling what had happened just before she lost consciousness, she sucked in a sharp breath. The image of blood dripping to the floor and bloodied fingers probing at her throat sent a chill through her chest. Nausea surged.
“Hah… hff…”
She forced out a breath, trying to steady herself. Leaning against the cold wall and regulating her breathing, she began to feel slightly better. Clutching her stomach, she closed her eyes. The boy’s words echoed in her ears like tinnitus.
Because of you. Because of your paltry conscience, how many sacrifices were rendered meaningless.
Breathing became hard. She rubbed her throat, and when she felt smooth, uninjured skin, a single tear slid down her cheek. She hastily wiped it away.
She had no right to cry.
If only I could die. If my death could atone for everything, I would welcome it.
She swallowed the rising sob back down—
Just as the door opened without a sound.
The stench of blood rushed in. Hill slowly lifted her head.
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