Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 46: I despise you



Chapter 46

I despise you

After seeing the smoke, Connie had a bad premonition and quickly ran towards the location.

When she got to the source, she sat that the place was a big mess. As if a fierce battle had happened. Fallen trees and broken branches, dead slimes all over the place. The strange thing was that there were cutleries and odds and ends that had nothing to do with battle all around. Silver cutleries, pieces of broken vase and kitchen knives stabbed up to the hilt into the trees. The radius of the damage was not small either.

Then her eyes fell on the body of the two young women lying unconscious on the forest floor, splattered with slime. Nearby was Nick, barely hanging on with his shield broken beyond repair. A discarded smoke bomb lied by the side of the crafty Hunter, along with shrapnels of miscelleaneous items.

Pieces of slimes could be seen around the place. Purplish gunk with the consistency of congealed fat.

“Nick! What happened here?” she ordered.

“Milady…the boy…”

Before he finished explaining, Nick had collapsed to the ground. Connie checked for his pulse and found that he just collapsed from exhaustion. When she checked for the girls, however, she found that they were lightly poisoned due to the slimes. Nothing that would not dissipate in time. But to make sure that nothing untoward happened, she force-fed them antidotes.

After making sure that they were not in danger, she had a look at her surroundings and scrunched up her eyebrows.

“Now, what the hell happened here?”

A quarter of an hour ago...

Nick had led the three through the forest by following the trail they followed before. Thankfully they had not met any enemies up to know. Not even monsters.

The Maiden surprisingly managed to keep up with them, most likely due to her skirt which had a deep slit on either side. White, plump flesh peeked out from them as she ran.

Henrietta, on the other hand had been running while holding onto her long skirt, which quickly tire her. Nick had to let her run by herself as he needed his hands free for any eventualities and Martell was too weak to carry her.

As they neared the clearing where they were captured before, Henrietta tripped on a root and fell on her face.

“Henrietta!” The Maiden who was running in front of her stopped and helped her up. Wiping and patting the stray leaves and branches that got stuck in her long hair away and rubbed the dirt off her face. “Aarre…yooou fine?” she asked with a worried tone.

The young woman wiped the tears that had started to fall from the side of her eyes with her sleeves. “I-I’m fine. But Connie!!”

The girl spoke in between sharp intake of breaths and sobs. Her legs felt hot and painful from running and the fear of getting kidnapped was still fresh in her mind. She felt miserable and wanted to cry.

Martell could see that she was overwhelmed with everything that was happening. He put on a kind smile and took her hand. “Lady Henrietta. Mistress is much stronger than us and even Nick. You saw how she took care of the Gelded Flayers, right? The best thing we can do now is to return to the town and get reinforcements.”

The bright smile of the cute looking beastfolk kid calmed her down. “Y-yes. You’re right. I’m sorry. You are a wonderful boy. Thank you”

“That’s all I can do,” he said in reply. Just hurry up already.

“Lady Henrietta. I think there are no more enemies this way. I will carry you again,” Nick said with a bit of a hurry.

“No. That is fine. I’ll…I’ll just,” she looked at her own long green skirt and said weakly. “Can you help me cut my skirt? It is too heavy for me to run with all of it on.”

Nick stood aghast at the notion and scolded. “Lady Henrietta! What would people say if I they saw you with your skirt cut? They will think ill of you!”

Martell rebuked him with a sharp look. “The lady’s request is clear, Nick. Just cut it, will you? The sooner we do this the sooner we can get back to the city. Half of it is enough.”

“Yes, he is correct. Will you help me, Mr. Nick?”

“Errgghh…fine.”

Nick finally relented and began cutting with his sword. The skirt was rather thick as it was made for autumn weather using good quality wool. After he was finished, the discarded fabric fell to the ground.

While they were doing this, they did not notice that the root Henrietta tripped on before, trembled and slowly retracted into the shadows.

After the small incident, they arrived at the clearing when Nick suddenly stopped and drew his weapon. “Halt!”

“W-what is it?” Henrietta asked.

“The deeead bodies…are miiissing,” The Maiden said with wary look.

“How? Could it be that they were turned to an Undead?” Henrietta said with a tinge of fear.

“Nooo….I do nooot…feel aaany…Arcaaane or Daaark….magiiic.”

“Do you think someone pulled a trap on us?” Martell warned.

“No. I don’t - !”

At that moment Nick noticed that his shadow was getting longer. His instincts went crazy and he shouted as he dove to the ground, taking both the women with him. “AMBUSH!!”

Martell, who was too late in reaction looked up and saw something falling before his body was enveloped with something cold and viscous.

Nick quickly pushed the women back as he swatted away a tentacle whipping towards him with his shield.

“Back! Get back!!” he yelled.

“W-what is that?!” Henrietta screamed.

“S-sliiime? I-III…have neeever heard ooof…it beeeing….this biiig!” she said in surprise. Her eyes wide at the sight of the monster.

“BlllllUURBB!!!” The giant slime before them was dark purple in color and was the size of a house. Inside of it, along with Martell who was flailing madly futilely, were the remains of monsters and the desiccated bodies of the Knights.

"Shit! So it was attracted to the dead bodies!"

"W-what do we do?"

"Heavy Bulwark!" Nick shouted as he held his ground from the continuous attacks. White light covered them and defended against the slime's attacks. “Maiden, if you have anything that could help, bring it out now!”

“I’m…sooory,” She wanted to help but she was out of mana potion and most of the items in her Item Ring was private jewelries. She had nothing that could help, especially not the dainty Henrietta.

“Well, shit. Out of the – Ugh – frying pan and into the fire! HAH! Shield Bash!” The power of the Skill slapped away part of the tentacle. But it was useless. It regenerated itself and continued advancing like an overweight sack of lard. “Dammit! Hold on, Martell! Girls! Take the leather ball on the left of my waist and the pouch on the right. Take out the firelighter and lit the ball’s fuse! Now, while I hold it at bay!!!”

Inside the slime, Martell could not hear anything. The slime had entered all his orifices. His ears, his nose, and his mouth. It was like being drowned in half diluted syrup. He was drowning and all he could feel was fear.

He saw Nick throwing a leather ball which exploded, taking out about half of the slime. He could see the great red flame and the smoke through the translucent slime, but not the sound. As if it was happening far away from him.

He saw the middle-aged man’s desperation and anger.

He was powerless against the giant slime. Powerless to save him.

The slime had gotten into his throat and he choked on it. His consciousness grew dim and he began to lose power in his limbs. His sight began to lose focus and he sank into unconsciousness.

Martell sank. He felt the world moving further and further away from his grasp while he sank deeper and deeper.

And then…he began to think.

Yes.

It has always been the way, isn’t it?

The weak fears the strong. The powerless fears the tyrant.

And the beastfolks fears weakness.

That’s why father sold my soul to that ‘thing’.

The boy gritted his teeth as painful memories flashed in his mind. His father’s beatings. His cruelty. His despair and anger at his son’s weakness. And then…his violation.

A violation that went beyond the physical but a violation of the soul itself.

To be marked by that ‘thing’.

To be sold like a piece of meat to something so vile, so...grotesque.

O Hurgul. Why did you let me be born?

A thing such as I. A wretched creature born with the ability to feel…nothing.

O Hurgul. O god of my people. God of my father and grandfather.

You who made me flesh, made me beautiful, made me broken…

I abhor you.

You who made me to be loved and desired.

Who watched me as they touched me with their fingers.

Who watched me as they kissed me with their tongues.

I detest you.

And yet, even though they marked my body with their love.

And yet, even though they violate my body with their desire.

It is but the beating of a scarecrow.

For how can I love when I do not have a heart?

For how can I hate when I do not have a heart?

O Hurgul. You who are great, you who are adored.

For this kindness of letting me be born into this world,

I despise you.

If I could feel anything in this broken shell of mine, it would be my scorn towards you.

My love, my hate, my joy, my despair,

That which you have taken from me.

If I could take them back,

I…I…

Suddenly, the dark inky nothingness enveloped him. And he screamed wordless scream.

The boy grasped for something in desperation as the arms of dark cold scrambled over him like ants over a dead mouse. The arms bit into his skin, squeezing tight, dragging him even deeper into the darkness.

He knew this darkness. He knew this emptiness.

For it was his heart.


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