Chapter 156

Inside the armor of the fallen, I tore the tattered cloth and wiped my sword and arm.

The flowing blood was one thing, but the sticky, yellowish fluid of the maggots was honestly disgusting and made me feel sick.

It felt like stepping on a cockroach barefoot and squishing it.

Anyway, brain-eating bug monsters… must be Isabella’s doing.

That witch always had a weird obsession with bug monsters among her minions.

Did these guys even realize they were dead?

Well, even if not now, once Claire disappears, they’ll figure out I was involved soon enough.

After all, these bug knights were borrowed by Claire to stop me.

Though, there’s something a bit… suspicious about it.

I looked down at the three dead bug knights.

Three masters.

Well, *former* masters, to be precise… Anyway, they were tricky but not unbeatable.

Aside from some scratches and cuts on my armor, I wasn’t seriously hurt.

In fact, it was helpful.

Thanks to them, my swordsmanship improved significantly.

Now, I think I fully understand.

How to swing without wasting energy, how to break through solid defenses, techniques to deceive enemies, controlling my steps and breathing—I’ve mastered it all.

Relying on overwhelming physical ability and sharp instincts, my skills were somewhat lacking compared to other masters.

But that’s in the past now. Having absorbed the skills of these three masters, my swordsmanship has evolved to a whole new level.

I almost feel like I should thank the empty heads rolling on the ground.

Did Isabella really think these three could defeat me?

Given my track record, even she should’ve known three masters wouldn’t be enough.

Was she being careless, or did she never intend to kill me in the first place?

Even if she wanted to keep me alive for some use, she could’ve sent more forces to capture me.

…I don’t know.

Well, as an ordinary person, I can’t possibly understand the mindset of a witch.

Whatever she’s plotting… I’ll just focus on doing what I need to do.

I sheathed Durandal, its light dimmed, and placed the blackened Ice Blade back into its case.

The battle was effectively over. All that’s left is cleanup.

The corpses scattered around were like kindling, setting the reed field ablaze.

If left alone, who knows how far the fire would spread… but Ophelia will handle it.

The dagger I used to start the fire was now useless, its blade melted and bent.

I tossed the scrap metal without hesitation and headed toward Ophelia.

Her battle was already over too.

While I was finishing off the bug knights, it seemed Claire had put up a desperate fight. Ophelia’s clothes were torn and burned, her left hand scorched.

But in other words, it meant she only suffered minor injuries.

Claire’s minions were all turned to fertilizer, and Claire herself, having exhausted all her strength, lay helplessly on the ground.

Defeated, Claire glared at Ophelia with half-lidded eyes, tears and blood streaming down her face.

“Kuh… ugh…! Ophelia…!”

“Is this the end, sister? Now, it’s time for your punishment. Look at this, it hurts quite a bit, you know?”

Ophelia, showing her burned left hand, smiled with delight as she crushed her sister’s left wrist under her heel.

She ground the bones with her shoe, slowly and meticulously breaking them apart.

Claire screamed.

Ophelia burst into laughter, seemingly unable to contain her joy.

Seems she had a lot of resentment toward her sister…

Not my problem. She deserves it anyway.

I brushed off the ash and dust from my shoulders and approached her.

—

Up close, Claire’s condition was pitiful.

Her dress was torn to shreds, revealing her scarred and wounded skin. Her side was crushed from burns, and her ankles were deeply cut, blood pouring out. Her right wrist was twisted three times over.

Her face was even worse.

Her bloodshot eyes, veins burst and red, poured tears like a broken faucet. Blackened blood streamed from her nose and mouth.

Inside her weakly open mouth, her shattered molars floated in the pool of blood in her throat, having been ground to pieces from clenching her teeth too hard.

It was a gruesome sight.

But I felt no pity.

“I’m done on my end… What about her? Honestly, I think it’s safer to kill her. Even if left alone, she’ll probably die soon anyway.”

Well, it’s true that she lost helplessly after being poisoned and ambushed, but if she had been in perfect condition, even Ophelia would’ve had to take some serious damage.

It would’ve been a headache if she had escaped after being spared.

“Kill? Me, kill my sister? Oh, I did say that at first… Sorry, but that was a lie. I’m going to keep her alive.”

Ophelia wiped the corner of her mouth as she answered.

Was it blood or saliva she wiped? Her excited eyes sent shivers down my spine.

In the original story, she didn’t hesitate to cut Claire’s throat and cling to Damien, so why the change?

Was it because she had no connection with Damien?

“It’s dangerous. I won’t help you next time.”

“No big deal. Whatever my sister tries, once she’s caught, there’s no way she’s escaping me, right? Isn’t that so, Claire? You’re still conscious, aren’t you?”

Ophelia answered nonchalantly, lifting her foot from Claire’s crushed wrist and looking down at her sister with a smile.

—

Instead of answering, Claire let out a violent cough.

Blood pooled in her throat sprayed out, staining her face red.

“Cough, hack!… Why does it always end up like this…?”

Her faint voice, filled with resentment and bitterness, lamented her fate.

It was a thin, fragile voice, as if it could break at any moment.

“Why… do you always win, while I lose and lose everything? Strength, family, everything…”

Her unfocused pupils weren’t even looking at Ophelia anymore.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly into empty space, her words incoherent.

“Answer me, Ophelia. Why do you get to take everything so easily…?”

Inferiority, sorrow, despair.

Claire’s inner self, too exhausted to even hate, was riddled with scars.

She cried, exposing her wounds.

“To beat you, I gave up my body, my conscience, my pride… I gave everything to the monster, and yet you’re still here in front of me…”

A dying body, a broken soul, ugly memories.

Reflecting on her desperate life, Claire sobbed silently.

…Not my problem, honestly.

She’s carrying on like some tragic heroine who lost everything, but knowing all the evil she’s done, I couldn’t find a reason to pity her.

After all, what she took from others far outweighed what she lost.

Who do you think you’re fooling, playing the victim?

The real victims are the women who fell prey to your schemes and were sacrificed to Isabella.

“Well, it’s because you’re weak, sister. Weak things get discarded, and weak people lose. But don’t worry, you won’t have to suffer from that anymore.”

A cold smirk.

Ophelia didn’t seem to sympathize with Claire’s lament either.

Looking down at Claire with a mocking gaze, Ophelia pulled out a small bottle from her pocket.

A suspicious purple liquid sloshed inside.

“I’ll take good care of the Sigmillus family. You don’t need to worry about anything anymore, just rest and know your place.”

“…Don’t make me laugh…!”

Whether it was her sister’s taunt that reignited her fading anger, Claire’s eyes regained focus.

Despite having no strength left, she somehow managed to lift her left arm.

“Trying so hard. You don’t even have magic left. Do you want to die for real?”

“If I can’t have it… then I’d rather…!”

Her hand trembling, Claire barely managed to flick her fingers.

It was astonishing determination. Her wrist bones and nerves were shattered, yet she still moved her fingers.

And then, nothing happened.

“What exactly were you trying to do, sister?”

Ophelia asked, incredulous.

But Claire smiled as if satisfied.

“Well, you’ll find out when you go back to the mansion… Go ahead and check it out… Ophelia.”

Heh, Claire laughed weakly before slumping down.

She was still alive, but it was clear she was close to death.

“…This feels ominous. Are you sure this is okay?”

I asked, but Ophelia didn’t answer.