Chapter 9 - The Broken Nest (2)

Even if everything in the nest had been shattered, she was still the mistress of this place.

That was why there was still something she had to do.

"Get up!"

A hand roughly hauled Vlad to his feet as he rolled on the floor.

"... M-Marcella."

"Get a hold of yourself. Are you planning to die here?"

Jorge, the Whores' Knight.

He was a back-alley boss who had made Rose's Smiles his base, but the brothel called Rose's Smiles did not actually belong to him.

"Everyone who protected this place is dead now. One-Armed Jack will come storming in soon."

Madam Marcella.

One of the flowers of the city of Soara, and the owner of Rose's Smiles, was none other than her.

"What about you, Marcella?"

"Worry about yourself, not me. You were Jorge's dagger. Jack's men won't leave you alone."

"B-But..."

The boy, who had poured out every emotion he had only moments ago, now had almost nothing left.

Not anger, not grief, and not even sharp judgment.

"One-Armed Jack might spare me. He took a liking to..."

SLAP!

At the sharp sound that rang out, all the weeping whores looked that way.

There stood Marcella with her hand raised, and Vlad, bewildered as he touched his cheek.

"Get a hold of yourself, brat!"

"..."

Madam Marcella was not an easy woman.

She was someone who had built a castle called Rose's Smiles with her own strength in the rough back alleys.

Some people even said that it was not Jorge, the Whores' Knight, who had chosen her, but Madam Marcella who had chosen him.

"Take this."

Marcella picked up a dagger that had been rolling on the floor and pressed it into his hand as she spoke.

It was the dagger Jorge had given him, the one Vlad had thrown to stop Godin.

"Do you know what the difference is between back-alley lives like ours and the bastards who live beyond the street?"

"Marcella..."

Vlad looked down at the dagger and quietly listened to Marcella's cry.

Because she had come to him first, even before Jorge's headless corpse.

"Listen carefully. The difference between those bastards and us is opportunity."

"Opportunity..."

"The bastards who live beyond the street can get back up even if they fail once. They're people with the means to do that."

Marcella raised her finger and pointed.

There lay the corpses of dead organization members, filling the place.

"Look. What about us? It was only one failure."

Misty drops formed in Marcella's eyes as she shouted at Vlad.

"We die if we fail even once. That's how we were born. So."

Marcella grabbed Vlad by the collar and spoke.

"Don't leave your one and only chance in someone else's hands."

With countless corpses behind her, Marcella was shouting at the boy.

Telling him to survive somehow by his own choice.

What Marcella told Vlad was advice worth more than ten million gold.

Because it was a precious lesson of life earned through one woman's entire lifetime.

"I understand."

That advice, along with Marcella's tears, drove deep into the boy's soul.

"If you want to live, leave Soara. Right now."

And the Madam's urgent cry and tears dragged Vlad back to reality once more.

"You're right. Madam is right."

"Yes..."

Marcella saw the light return to the boy's eyes.

"I'll leave. Right now."

As the boy staggered to his feet, a red-haired girl clung to his side.

"Zemina."

"I'll only help you walk. I won't hold you back."

"Get away from me right now."

"You're still stumbling. I'll take you somewhere safe enough, then I'll leave."

"..."

Seeing Zemina insist on helping him through the dangerous escape, Vlad tried to force her away, but the girl's stubbornness would not break for that much.

And everyone here knew very well that Zemina would never leave him.

"Help him and come back, Zemina. And come to the convent before daybreak."

"Yes, Madam."

"Even if you want to go with him, you have to come back. If you move with him too, you'll be caught quickly even if you escape outside the city."

"... I understand."

At Marcella's words, telling her to say farewell, Zemina merely nodded calmly.

There was no more time.

One-Armed Jack's men were already watching Rose's Smiles.

Even if they did not know exactly what had happened inside, it was only a matter of time before they noticed.

Rose's Smiles without Jorge was nothing but a slab of meat without an owner.

One-Armed Jack was always hungry.

"I'll definitely come back."

"Vlad..."

Seeing the boy look at her and say he would come back, Marcella gave a sad smile.

"Do you know how many men have said that to me?"

"I'll be different."

Hearing the boy's vow that he would return, Marcella remembered.

The time Jorge had brought in one filthy little puppy.

She had fed, clothed, and washed that child who had lost his color.

And so she had made him find his gold again.

But now it was time to send him away.

"Hurry and go."

Though she had wanted to keep him a little longer.

Marcella handed Vlad a pouch as she spoke.

The jingling pouch did not contain much, but at least it was filled with Marcella's concern.

"Be careful, Madam."

"We'll see you at the convent!"

The blond boy and the red-haired girl hurried down toward the basement.

They would probably be able to slip out through the back door there.

"... Good."

After succeeding in sending away the last trace Jorge had left behind, Marcella wiped her tears and looked around.

Gazes filled with tears.

Pitiful lives were there.

Women who could not live without a man to rely on.

"Everyone."

Now Marcella had to bring things to an end.

Because that was the final duty of an owner.

"As of today, Rose's Smiles is closing its doors."

Because it was something only a whore who could stand proudly even without a man could do.

"I will give you severance pay. Those who wish to stay may stay, and those who wish to leave may leave. And."

Marcella's eyes were looking beyond the main road.

"Girls who are still virgins, come to me."

Everyone was sobbing.

Now they would never have one again.

A Madam like Marcella, who protected them.

A Whores' Knight who raised his sword for them.

They knew they would once again live lives tossed this way and that in someone else's hands.

The nest was broken.

Now it was time for even the youngest bird to fly on its own.

* * *

"They're all dead."

"..."

The organization members guarding the back door had all been cut apart.

By clean, yet merciless swordplay.

"Ugh...!"

"Are you okay, Vlad?"

Zemina asked anxiously as she watched Vlad stagger.

The situation was urgent, but Vlad had already reached the limits of his strength.

He had spent more than five days outside in the cold, experienced a shocking situation, and even charged at a knight, ending up with minor injuries.

"... Let's go."

But even if the energy in his body had run dry, the force in his eyes had not died.

The boy swore.

That he would kill the knight named Godin without fail.

"I can't let it end here."

"Right! Let's move!"

Supporting Vlad, Zemina quickly began making her way out of the alley.

Past the familiar areas they knew, evading One-Armed Jack's eyes, toward the outskirts of the city.

Just as they always had until now, the boy and girl held each other up like that and did everything they could to survive.

But the world never went only the way one wanted.

"Found them!"

"There's Jorge's brat!"

One-Armed Jack's hungry gaze found them far faster than expected.

Vlad and Zemina moved as carefully as possible, making use of the fact that they were from the back alleys, but the same was true of One-Armed Jack's men.

Greedy hyenas began moving to find the young lion that had slipped away from the pride.

Though Vlad kept moving forward with support, this was nothing more than a desperate struggle.

Ruin was approaching.

"Vlad!"

"Go back."

"No!"

"You promised! Go to the convent! Or at least go to Haven!"

"I said no!"

Seeing Zemina shed tears while stubbornly shaking her head, Vlad bit his lip.

"Shit! You really don't fucking listen!"

He knew it would be like this.

"You stupid bitch! You said you'd only see me off partway!"

"Huuu... hic!"

Seeing Zemina cry, Vlad let out a deep sigh.

"How long do you think I can keep protecting you?"

Young lives leaned precariously against the wall.

They had made it this far by supporting and protecting each other, yet the sticky back alleys would not easily let the children go.

"Damn it."

Today, the weight of the girl he had to carry was far too heavy.

That weight that made it impossible for him to give up, even when he wanted to.

"..."

So they had to get out.

But how?

Amid thoughts that bit and were bitten, Vlad's steps naturally sought out a familiar place.

For now, they had to get inside somewhere.

Only then could they avoid Jack's men scattered through the alleys.

"Old man! Open the door!"

The place where the boy's steps stopped was in front of the smithy.

The place where the sword he had always stood and stared at was displayed.

"What do we do... I don't think he's here."

But no matter how much he knocked, the old blacksmith did not answer.

Looking at the old door that gave no reply, Zemina's large eyes filled with fear.

Seeing that fear, Vlad sensed the future that was coming.

One-Armed Jack was that kind of man.

A man who tore into the wounded and made those who collapsed from exhaustion sit down so he could use them as his stepping stones.

"I can't let that happen."

He could not let Zemina become like that.

"Move!"

Light returned to Vlad's blue eyes.

"O-Okay!"

After shoving Zemina aside, Vlad drew the dagger and desperately twisted at the smithy's lock.

It was solid and sturdy because it had been made by a craftsman, but if he did not think about what came after, this was the surest method.

There were moments when strength was the only method.

"Open!"

The dagger, filled with the boy's desperation, screamed as it twisted the lock attached to the door.

CREEEAK.

And it answered that desperation.

By the time he sensed Jack's men slowly drawing near, Vlad struck the barely opened lock with the handle of the dagger.

CRACK!

A gap appeared.

A small gap through which they could enter the dark smithy.

"Ngh!"

Through the opened gap, Zemina's small body went in first.

"Whew."

Vlad followed after her.

With frantic hands, he pulled the broken pieces of the lock that had fallen to the ground inside.

And so they were able to enter the smithy that had not answered.

"Hah, hah..."

"Are you okay?"

"Quiet."

Vlad had used up all his strength, but his senses were still sharp.

"I can hear them."

Just as when he had secretly let Stanga, no, Godin, inside, he focused on sound and grasped the movements of Jack's men.

The thudding sounds of footsteps were running all over the back alleys.

"... We can't get out."

Sounds filling every direction reached Vlad's ears.

"Hup!"

"..."

And they were growing close enough that even the girl could hear them.

Zemina covered her mouth with both hands and trembled.

"Where did those brats go!"

"They definitely came this way."

Vlad drew the dagger and stood pressed close beside the door.

The distance between the breathless children and the hyenas was only the width of a thin wooden board.

"They're quick because they're young. Maybe they slipped into another alley?"

"Hurry up and find them! Billy said he'll give a separate reward if we bring him the blond bastard."

"Is he trying to avenge his broken teeth or something?"

In contrast to Zemina's trembling shoulders, Vlad's gaze was sinking heavily.

If those bastards noticed, he would have to kill them.

Otherwise, he would be the one to die.

Though the dagger Jorge had left him had been twisted into an ugly shape, it should still be enough to deal with the likes of them.

The boy focused.

Because the girl's future was hanging on his shoulders too.

"Let's go. Before the others snatch him up."

"Haa... where the hell did those two run off to?"

Vlad concentrated on following the presence of the men as it gradually moved away.

That was why he did not notice.

"Who's there?"

The movement of someone quietly rising inside the smithy.

"...!"

Jack's men had not yet gone far.

Vlad, feeling things had gone terribly wrong, hurried to move, but...

"D-Don't move, old man."

Beside Vlad was the red-haired girl who had been supporting him.

"I-I'll really stab you."

The girl was threatening the old blacksmith while holding a piece of metal that had been lying around the smithy.

"You... why are you here?"

Winter moonlight seeped in through the cracks of the old smithy.

Only then could the old blacksmith see.

That the girl's tears, reflected in the moonlight, were hanging there pitifully.

Those must have been stars.

"Put that down, you half-baked thing."

"I-If you keep your mouth shut, old man."

Her hand was as small as a child's, but the desperation held in that hand was real.

"Sniff... hngh."

Though she was trying to look threatening, the small, terrified girl was trembling so hard she did not know what to do.

"..."

That was the sight the old man saw.

A boy tense with the approaching threat, and a girl crying because she did not know what to do.

Young things abandoned by the world stood miserably before him.

"I-I really can stab you. Hic."

"I get it, so shut up for a bit, you half-baked thing."

The old man quietly looked into the crying girl's eyes.

With the discernment only years could read.

Fear dwelled in the tears hanging from her eyes, but resolve dwelled in her pupils.

"... I see."

This child really might stab him.

If it was for the boy standing beside her.

"What happened? Tell me."

When the murmuring voices of the men moved farther away, the old blacksmith asked quietly.

But the boy's mouth did not open easily.

As if he could not bear to say it with his own mouth.

"You lost, then."

Though the words were only circling inside his mouth, the old blacksmith could understand.

Because he was a man who had lived in the back alleys for a long time.

"Jorge is dead."

"... He was a decent boss."

"Hiiic! Hup!"

When Jorge's name came up, large tears began flowing from Zemina's eyes.

"I understand the situation. So put down that ugly thing first, you half-baked thing."

"Hic! No!"

But even though her emotions had crumbled, Zemina knew very well what she had to do.

"Give me the sword!"

"What?"

She had to send Vlad away.

Outside this city.

"The one that was hanging there, give me that! Even if he gets safely out of the city, he might die to monsters!"

"No, but this bitch..."

Though she was rambling, nothing Zemina said was wrong.

Even if Vlad escaped One-Armed Jack's eyes and left Soara, it was now a pitch-dark dawn on a cold winter day.

It was far too harsh a time to travel to the next village without proper preparations.

"I'm not joking! If Vlad dies, I'll kill myself right then and there! So hand it over!"

The blade held in the girl's hand came right under the old man's chin.

"T-This bitch!"

It was held in a dainty hand, but even so, that did not make its sharp edge disappear.

In the girl's eyes, covered in tears, emotions she could not control even herself were swirling.

"Are you crazy!"

"Get the sword!"

Seeing Zemina threaten him while demanding he hand over the sword, the old blacksmith felt a deep bitterness.

'Yes...'

This was the nature of people who lived in the back alleys.

The nature of people who could only live by taking what belonged to others.

He had been that way too, and it was simply time for these young things before him to become the same.

Just as he had been.

"Zemina! Put it down!"

Vlad's hushed shout rang out, but Zemina's fingertips still swayed precariously.

The girl made her decision.

To swing what she held in her hand.

Because if it was to save the boy, she was ready to do anything.

"Zemina!"

Along with the boy's hushed shout, the edge of the dagger flashed.

"...!"

The old blacksmith closed his eyes, expecting the sharp thing that would soon dig into his throat.

"I'll pay you back."

But the blade the girl held had not been aimed at the old blacksmith.

"This won't be enough, but I'll definitely pay you back later. I swear!"

When the old man opened his eyes, he froze at the sight of what fluttered before him.

A curly red color filling his vision.

It was the red hair the young girl had been proud of as the one thing she had.

"You half-baked bitch..."

"Please give it to me. Please."

The girl had given up the thing she was most proud of for the thing most precious to her.

The girl's eyes, filled with desperation, had not yet been dyed by the back alleys.

The girl's eyes, filled with tears, were looking somewhere different from where he had looked in those days.

"Ha."

Turning his eyes away from the dazzling flame before him, the old man turned his head and looked at the boy.

"Are you going to leave?"

"Yes."

The young things before his eyes were trying to do the things he had dreamed of all his life but failed to do.

With wingbeats not yet fully grown.

"You little brats make me work too damn hard."

The old man was an adult.

If one was an adult, there were things one had to do for children even without any payment.

Especially if they were children with potential.

"Follow me."

Today, at least, the old man decided to raise his head and look at the stars.

It was something he had wanted to do all his life, but never had.

* * *

Late at night.

The back alleys looked quiet from the outside, but were filled with hungry gazes.

There, an old blacksmith and a short boy were pushing a cart.

"Shit, this is heavy."

"Stop whining and push."

In the back alleys where everyone was holding their breath, only the creaking of the cart rang out.

The place they were headed was at the very edge of the outskirts of Soara.

It was where the city's overflowing trash was dumped, and where only those at the very bottom even among back-alley lives had settled.

That was why people did not easily seek it out.

"I can never get used to this place no matter how many times I come here."

Though it was the middle of winter, a stench still brushed the tip of the nose.

'If even this place is blocked...'

This was the last place.

One-Armed Jack's men were already deployed all over the back alleys.

Whether it was to catch Jorge's organization members who might still be alive, or to find the unidentified slaughterer, no one knew, but One-Armed Jack wanted to hold onto everything that tried to flee from his eyes.

That was why the old blacksmith and Zemina had no choice but to come all the way here.

"Old man."

But unlike the hopes of the two, Jack's men had already taken positions here.

"What?"

"Why'd you come here in the middle of the night?"

"Can't you tell by looking?"

"... Dumping trash?"

"Are your eyes already shot at that age? Then what does this look like, you bastards?"

Facing the hyenas, whose venom had risen to the brim, the old man struggled to act confident.

"Then why dump it now?"

They were treating the old blacksmith with some respect because he had lived in the back alleys for a long time, but Jack's men had something they needed to find right now.

"Because I have to dump it now. You bastards have been blocking the alleys, fighting or whatever all this time! My smithy is about to burst with the things I couldn't throw away!"

"... Who's that?"

One of Jack's men jerked his chin and pointed at the boy beside the old man.

As far as they knew, the old blacksmith had always worked alone.

"I'm old, so my strength's gone, and I brought him along after promising him a loaf of bread. Or do you bastards want to push it for me instead?"

"Wait."

Everything he said was reasonable, but at a time like this, a thorough check was needed.

"Don't move."

Seeing the man approach him, the boy pushing the cart began to panic.

"Stay still. Today's the kind of day when a blade might come out instead of a fist."

"..."

In the end, a rough hand grabbed the boy's hood and pulled it up.

"What's your problem? Begging is hard enough already. Seriously."

"... Pass."

It was a red-haired boy.

From the filthy bits of charcoal smeared on his face, it seemed he had rolled around quite roughly in the smithy.

"What the hell are you looking for to make this much of a fuss?"

"Jorge's blond brat. His was the only corpse missing. And... tsk."

The man conducting the search clicked his tongue and cut his words short.

"And what! If you aren't going to tell me, can we go now!"

"One more thing."

The man turned his head and ordered someone.

"Hey, darkie. Check this cart."

At the man's words, the three who had been holding their breath swallowed hard.

"Don't do it here and make dust fly everywhere."

"Yes."

Zemina looked with trembling eyes at the man approaching the cart.

A huge man wearing shabby, worn-out clothes.

That man's skin was black.

"Go over to him."

"Fuck..."

The old man spat out his complaint in a trembling voice and began pushing the cart.

Though he was pretending to be calm on the outside, the old man's back was already soaked with sweat.

'Should we have gone somewhere else?'

But it was too late for regret.

In any case, there was nowhere else to go but here.

They had come holding on to their last hope, but One-Armed Jack's eye was looking even at the dirtiest place in the city.

"You brought a lot."

"It piled up a lot over time."

The old man answered the black-skinned man in a cowed voice.

"Let's... take a look."

At that moment, the black-skinned man who was about to lift the cart's covering met Zemina's eyes.

"..."

"...!"

Zemina hurriedly lowered her head, but she thought he might have recognized her.

Because the man before her was someone who knew Zemina.

"It's trash from a smithy, so there's a lot of dust. We'll have to move it a bit farther forward."

The black-skinned man muttered to himself and pushed the cart forward.

The two people quietly followed behind him.

"But why did you cut your hair?"

"...!"

Once the people around them had grown farther away, the man spoke to Zemina in an indifferent voice.

"W-What are you talking about?"

Zemina barely answered in a trembling voice, but she bit her lip hard at the sense of disaster that the man had recognized her.

"..."

At the same time, the pile of trash in the cart began to shift slightly.

Creating a gap just wide enough for a sword to thrust out.

"With you flat in front and back, cutting your hair makes you look exactly like a boy."

The black-skinned man was speaking to Zemina, but his eyes were looking at someone inside the pile of trash.

"Now that you're like that, no one would recognize you."

Perhaps because a man of his size was pushing it, the cart the old man had brought moved away from Jack's men without stopping.

"This should be far enough."

Once they had put an appropriate distance between themselves and the men conducting the search, the black-skinned man took out a skewer.

It was a shabby, rusted skewer, but in Zemina's eyes, it looked sharper than any famous sword.

"This is my job."

STAB!

And he mercilessly stabbed it into the pile on the cart.

As the man began stabbing here and there through the pile of trash with the skewer, Zemina closed her eyes as if she could not bear to watch.

Whether Zemina closed her eyes or not, the black-skinned man continued stabbing the pile of trash loaded on the cart with the skewer.

"I heard Haven put a boat on the river."

"..."

While skillfully avoiding only the space where one person was sitting.

"Jack's men all swarmed that way now. They said there must be a reason a half-crippled bastard put a boat on the river."

"What, what are you talking about?"

Zemina played dumb and pretended not to know until the end, but Vlad, hiding inside the cart, could understand what the black-skinned man was saying.

"Just remember it. Good. Pass."

"... Thank you, Otar."

A small voice flowed out from inside the cart, but the man called Otar only turned his head as if he had not heard.

"Go."

As soon as the words granting passage fell, the old man and the red-haired girl quickly clung to the cart and began pushing it.

"The forty silver my little brother owed is paid with this."

Behind the passing cart, the black-skinned man spoke.

The price of a life could only be repaid with a life.

With the final words of the man who had paid his debt, the cart moved again.

Along with a creaking sound.

Toward the city wall, toward a hole pierced through it that led outside.

The closer that hole came, the more sorrow filled the girl's eyes.

Now it was time for farewell.

"Goodbye, Vlad."

Toward the mountain of trash beneath that hole, the old man and the girl pushed the cart upward.

"Stay healthy."

Even while choking back tears, Zemina thought of the boy's safety until the very last moment.

WHOOSH!

At the same time as the cart's handles rose all the way, the girl's tears fell.

"You have to come see me, okay?"

Now, together with the tears shed by the red-haired girl.

Beneath the moon in the night sky, there was trash falling outside the city.

It was a shabby thing no one in the city looked after.

But even if no one recognized it, it held something shining carefully inside.

"... Haa."

Outside the city wall, atop a mountain made of trash, the boy looked up at the night sky.

His vision was blurred with tears, but the things glittering in the night sky were still the same.

The stars in the night sky.

But today, one star was shining from below the earth.

The star the boy was gripping tightly had been made from the old man's dream and bought with the girl's tears.

"I'll definitely come back."

Even if it was not in the lofty night sky.

Even if it was buried in a gutter no one could see.

If it wished to shine on its own.

If it still held light in its heart.

Then it must be a star.

Just like the thing shining in the boy's heart.