by Aneko Yusagi
As it had turned out, anyway, most of these women were serious criminals. Lifting the lid had revealed some real nasty stuff. They’d been using Takt’s authority to give Witch a run for her money in terms of evil deeds.
Unable to move, Takt screamed as he watched the women killed, one after the other. That had been a grisly parade of gore since morning; starting with burning at the stake, the festivities had included water torture, hanging, the guillotine, the brazen bull, a firing squad, being run over by a cart, dragged around, magical executions using various types of magic, being forced to take poison, and being chewed apart by monsters.
Sadeena’s and Shildina’s magic executions had been really incredible. The two of them were practiced executioners, able to keep the women neither alive nor dead, punishing the sinners on a razor edge of pain. It was easy to tell the kind of work they had done in the past—but I wondered if they were really okay with it.
“If you two don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” I told them.
“I just want to get a bit more action. Looks like they’re shorthanded too,” Sadeena replied.
“Me too. Let us do this,” Shildina added. Thus, the executioner sisters had both opted to join the fray. The two of them had used lightning magic to perform torture, keeping their victims neither alive nor dead, and wind magic to cause significant pain. The Zeltoble executioner had been quite taken with their skills.
These were the killers of Atla and the queen. When we started out, it had almost felt refreshing. As things proceeded, however, I’d started to have more complex feelings about the situation.
Takt’s sins were especially extreme. He’d smeared mud not only on the nation, but also the power of the church and the mythos of the heroes. Some of the people had thrown stones at Takt as he was brought in. I mean, he’d planned world domination, killed heroes, and then been proven a fake by the legendary weapons themselves. Finding out someone they had believed in was a fake was certainly going to collect some ire, here in a world were so many people worshipped the heroes.
Even rendered so completely powerless, Takt continued to struggle, shouting the names of the women one after another as they died. There was blood coming from where his neck, wrists, and legs were bound, and he shouted in rage.
“Stop it! If you’re going to kill anyone, just kill me! Why are you killing them too?” he pleaded.
“Just confess and it will all be over! How did you obtain the power to steal the seven star weapons? What research have you been doing?” the executioner demanded. I already knew from Atla that Takt was somehow involved with the one behind the waves, but in order to confirm the situation, I really needed him to say that for himself.
“I can’t . . . I can’t tell you that . . .” Takt moaned feebly. I gave another depressed sigh, not my first one that day. The executioner keeping Takt under control made a further declaration.
“Don’t make me repeat myself! Your sins are too great to be simply forgiven with your death!” Then he smashed Takt’s face with a pole before casting healing magic on him. Torturing someone while using healing magic to keep them alive was a method unique to this kind of world, that was for sure. Really cruel and brutal—and that was coming from someone who had been using this tactic himself not so long before. Still, Atla’s murderer or no, watching someone else conducting such a brutal execution against them with a little distance from the action myself did bring some clarity to the proceedings.
If Takt had only had someone like Raphtalia or Yomogi among his retinue, perhaps his rampage wouldn’t have gone this far. No, that still seemed unlikely. This was easy to understand by looking at the case of Yomogi, someone we met in Kizuna’s world. We’d heard talk of there being women like her among Takt’s followers. People who tried to show him a better path to take . . . and it seemed likely that basically the same thing as Kyo and Yomogi had happened. In other words . . . any of the women who tried to caution Takt ended up vanishing under mysterious circumstances, dying in accidents, or dying in battle. The lucky ones probably got away with just being exiled, like Rishia. That wasn’t enough to get them marked for execution.
In any case, there was no saving him. I simply had no intention of listening to anything he had to say. In this case, Kyo and the women in his retinue had been better than this. He was the prime example of the endpoint of someone who had systematically eradicated anyone trying to stop his rampage—people like Raphtalia was to me. He really was just like Kyo, in every possible aspect.
I’d also been told that, just like Kyo, Takt was a vanguard for the waves. There were forces that existed behind him then. We still had no idea who was pulling the strings. We needed to make him talk.
“Still . . . I’m having trouble understanding this torture stuff,” I commented.
“Me too,” Ren agreed. We were both modern men, that was all. We didn’t see executions as entertainment, and despite all we had been through, we also remained somewhat naïve.
“Still, we can’t let him alone take responsibility for making the world into his plaything,” I replied. Not only his parents—in this case his mother—but all of his relatives were also to be put to death. His father was apparently already dead.
It had also come to light that Takt had killed almost all of the Faubrey royal family. That many people meant his hands really were covered with blood.
“Nana!” Takt suddenly shouted.
“Brother!” came the reply. His sister, I supposed. She looked pretty tough too. “Don’t let it go to your head, just because you beat me! Brother! Hurry up and kill these creeps, then make the Melromarc doll princess into my slave!” She should have been reset to level 1 too, but the soldiers escorting her were struggling to keep her under control.
I guess this sister didn’t have any idea of what kind of situation she was in. Or maybe she mistakenly thought her brother had got captured on purpose, as part of a plan to save her.
“His little sister was pretty brutal in battle,” Melty commented.
“Huh? You fought too, Mel-chan?” Filo asked.
“Yes. I’m the one who captured her,” Melty revealed, stroking Filo as she said it.
Hold on. What?
“You captured her?” I asked.
“Yes. I was fighting alongside my father when she suddenly came at me, going on about how she was level 130 and how she’d easily crush a weakling like me—as mocking as always.”
“Melty is the one who took Takt’s sister alive. I’d expect no less from the daughter of Mirellia and myself. She handled herself wonderfully, without leaving a single opening. My wife would have been thrilled,” Trash said, singing Melty’s praises. He always did dote on her. I knew Trash cared deeply for his family, that much was true.
“What’s that ‘doll princess’ stuff about?” I asked.
“That’s the nickname she called me by when she used to pick on me in Faubrey. She didn’t have much time to deal with other people and so gave them all her own strange little names,” Melty explained. Lack of interest meant they probably went in one ear and out the other . . . and she wanted to make Melty her slave! That was pretty crazy too. Publicly, Melty had only ever done what the queen had told her. She’d just been watching and learning.
“She just charged in at me, putting all of her faith into her high level. Pathetic, honestly,” Melty opined.
“You’ve trained a lot with me, haven’t you, Mel-chan?!” Filo said.
“I’m not on your level, Filo. But I’ve trained to be able to unleash magic whenever I need it, and I’ve honed specific techniques that don’t rely on level,” Melty explained. I did recall Fitoria say something about having increased Melty’s potential—and Melty had then gone on to further raise her level with Filo. If her abilities were converted into an actual level, I could only guess just how strong she would be.
“Fehhhhh!” Rishia let out a surprised noise. She had been forced to come along as one of the heroes and was watching the executions alongside Itsuki.
“Hey, Rishia. Tell me, how strong was Melty on the battlefield?” I asked her.
“Fehhhhh!” Rishia just made the same noise again.
“Does everything have to surprise you? Get used to it! Or just don’t look,” I said.
“Rishia, you can’t want to see this. You can go back to the room for a bit if you want,” Itsuki soothed her.
“Fehhh!” With that, Rishia finally snapped back to herself. “The strength of Princess Melty? Well . . . I’d say she’s probably stronger than Eclair. On the battlefield, I heard her muttering to herself about how the princess was doing better than her, after all.”
“Hey, don’t say things like that,” Melty said.
“Wow,” I said. If Melty was superior in terms of both technique and strength, it might raise the question of what Eclair was even stationed with her for.
“That’s Hengen Muso Style, is it?” Melty continued. “I haven’t learned that technique. I’m just circulating magic through my system to enhance my abilities.” I mean, that sounded close enough to me. She was basically doing the same thing.
“I could teach you it later,” Filo offered. “I can kind of do it.”
“No need for that,” Melty replied. “I’m not meant to be fighting on the front lines!” Still, it sounded like I could now consider Melty to be pretty strong. When I thought about it, Trash and Melty were both royalty—important people—so it was a big help if they could look after themselves. Not that I was looking to transfer responsibility for failing to defend the queen.
“You can do whatever you like. I’m glad to hear how strong you are, Melty,” I said.
“Naofumi?” Melty asked, a little puzzled.
“I’ll do everything I can to protect you from anything that might happen. But if I can’t . . . you do everything you can and survive,” I told her.
“S-sure thing,” she said. As Melty and I had this conversation, Takt’s sister exploded into a rampage.
“Hey! Let go of me! My brother is the greatest hero in the world! You’re making a big mistake if you think you can get away with all of this!” Ignoring Takt’s cries, the sister continued her tirade. She was still going. She really didn’t understand the situation.
“Nana! Run for it! Hurry!” Takt shouted. She really was a feisty one. She was probably a match for everyday Melty, at least.
“You’ll pay for treating my brother like this!” she raged. “I’m going to kill every last one of you!”
“You’re the one who’s about to die! Don’t you understand your crimes?” the executioner retorted to Takt’s sister, but she didn’t back down a single step.
“Crimes? Just what is it you think we’ve done?!” she raged.
“You killed the seven star heroes, one after the other. Committed an unthinkable number of crimes in the past. You also killed the king and royal family of Faubrey, killed the queen of Melromarc, and caused untold chaos by declaring you were going to take over the world. You deserve death for all of these crimes!” the executioner replied. What a laundry list of evil. If she wasn’t getting executed, I wondered how many years in jail that would equal. Presupposing imprisonment for life, she’d be a major criminal with a four-digit sentence.
“Hah!” Yet the sister was still going. “All heroes other than my brother are trash, so it doesn’t matter if we killed them. Crimes? Nothing my brother does can possibly be evil! The world is wrong! The royal family? Who’s crying over the loss of that trash? Ending that Melromarc vixen was maybe the best thing he did!” Her mouth was like a machine gun. No room for anyone to get a word in edgewise. I looked over at Melty to see her staring at Takt’s sister with terrifying, completely emotionless eyes.
“Oh boy . . .” Even Filo was doing a double take.
While Takt continued to shout for his sister to run for it, shout from the bottom of his heart . . . the sister was paying no attention at all, raging to save Takt.
“Taking over the world? My brother was trying to save it! To just create a world for himself, by himself! He hasn’t done a single thing wrong!” This was hopeless. Even confronted with the deeds of her brother, she simply didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. She wasn’t someone words could reach. We had no obligation to take the time to explain things to her, and according to the materials prepared for me, she’d killed countless soldiers on the battlefield.
There was no reason to protect her. It was plain to see she was just going to keep fighting back.
“Hey! What are you doing? Brother, please?!” The executioner, understanding words weren’t going to get through to her, strapped Takt down.
“Nana!” Takt shouted.
“Save me, broth—” And then she was skewered alive. I couldn’t watch. Just her final scream made me feel nasty. I couldn’t understand why they would make a show of something like this, but there was a time in my own world where this kind of thing had gone on, so I also couldn’t be too hard on them.
More than anything else, quite aside from having no obligation to save them, we were on the opposing side to them.
With a moan, Takt stared over at me for perhaps the hundredth time that day, such hatred burning in his eyes. I stood up and moved over to him.
“Did you think we would handle our prisoners with more care than this?” I asked him.
“Of course! No hero would allow this! You’re a weapon-stealing fake!” he raged.
“That’s what you choose to come out with? Let me remind you of something. Among all of those you killed, the queen of Melromarc was the most important person. That means this war was all about revenge for Melromarc,” I explained.
“What are you talking about?” He really didn’t seem to get it, tilting his head as though I was making fun of him. I wondered if I should choose my words carefully but then just carried on.
“You and your cronies are hated enemies of Melromarc. Isn’t it normal for hated enemies to get horribly executed? All this hero stuff doesn’t matter. They aren’t going to treat you like a normal prisoner,” I told him. Melromarc wasn’t a republic; it was a kingdom—an organization shaped like a pyramid—and they’d killed the one at the top. Defeat in a war with such a nation meant the loser was clearly going to get their representatives and all their attendants killed. “Have you seriously forgotten everything you did on the way to Melromarc? To the people of the nations you defeated?” As he marched on Melromarc, Takt had done pretty much the same as this—killing those who wouldn’t obey and bringing those who would into his forces.
There might have been some nations willing to turn a blind eye, solely for the purposes of getting rid of Melromarc, but in the end, any such people had kept their mouths shut. Shieldfreeden had perhaps been the most suspicious, their representative actually belonging to Takt’s harem. But that nation was also currently in the middle of a power struggle and Takt and the former representative had been branded state criminals.
It was easy to imagine what became of such individuals.
“You truly believed you would be the one to liberate the world? And how much blood has that selfish idea spilled? You’ve been running around thinking you can do whatever you like if it satisfies you, and now it’s finally time to settle up. This is your punishment for so casually deciding to try and take over the world,” I told him.
“I’ll kill you! Even if I’m reduced to just a head! Even if I’m reduced to just a soul, I will curse and kill you!” Takt ranted.
“Let me tell you something a fictional detective said in my world: if you’re shooting at people, you should be prepared to get shot. Just how many people have you killed with your own two hands? How many have the guns that you’ve made killed? What are you talking about, if you aren’t ready to accept the burden of the lives you’ve taken?” I accused. If I’d lost this battle, then I would have surely lost everything—or almost everything. This particular fake hero would have likely kept the best-looking women from the village alive and then raped and brainwashed them. The kind of mass
-slaughter we were currently going through would also have happened, just with different participants.
I fully understood all that and was ready to die all the same.
I’d made a vow, after all, to Atla and everyone from the village who had died. A vow that I would avenge them. I’d come this far, doing whatever it took, in order to fulfill that vow. I didn’t know if this was what they would want, but that doubt still wasn’t going to stop me. That was incredibly arrogant, yes . . . but I wasn’t here alone.
If these horrible executions were to be my sin, then I’d go to hell or pay whatever other price was required after I was dead. One thing was for sure: I wouldn’t be going to heaven.
“Your selfish crimes have led to your capture, that’s all. Accept it. The victors get to write the history,” I told him.
“You’re joking!” he shouted.
“Shut up!” I wondered just which of us was joking here. Takt’s eyes looked cloudy. He would probably start weeping tears of blood in a moment. No, in fact, his tears already looked a bit red. Something messed up was going on with his tear glands, probably.
I was getting sick of all the screaming behind me too.
“Come on. What secrets do you have that are more important than the lives of your allies? Just tell me. Unlike you, I keep my promises—at least to a bare minimum.” I tried to reason with him. After he’d suffered through all of this, there had to be something else keeping him from speaking. Maybe a slave seal with such a high level that even we couldn’t see through it had been placed on him along with his abilities. Hmmm. As I considered that and other alternatives, waiting for Takt to finally break, a few women came walking along. These executions weren’t having any effect on him, so it looked like the executioners had decided to change things up a bit.