The Master’s Cruel Hand

Cecilia raised her hands to a Holy Fire Knight, and in an instant, she was teleported into the graveyard. Without hesitation, she rushed to Vireta’s side, commencing emergency aid.

“Her chest has been ripped open! I need strong liquor and a belt, now!!!”

A doctor, quickly pulling a belt from a nearby thug, tore at the hem of her nun’s habit, desperately trying to staunch Vireta’s gaping wound.

Vireta, meanwhile, had already succumbed to unconsciousness, her life draining away from severe blood loss.

“Remove these restraints! We must get the injured out of here!”

“This is outright murder!!!”

“Exactly! Let them go!”

To allow a fully armed brute to hack down a young girl was utterly indefensible.

The gathered crowd, far from being mere wooden backdrops, would never condone such an act, and thus, an uproar swiftly erupted around the chessboard.

Lucius, choosing not to force the game to continue, instead called a brief halt, instructing his operatives outside the playing field to individually ‘handle’ the clamoring public.

“Focus now. Don’t look over there.”

“Ahhhhhh—!!!”

Saranya, ignoring Kaelan’s admonition, roared and slammed her shoulder against the boundary of the chessboard, only to be instantly repelled and sent sprawling to the ground.

Her master had issued a clear prohibition, yet she had chosen defiance—it was, to her recollection, the very first time.

“Saranya, calm yourself!”

“Why…”

Again and again, these horrors relentlessly unfolded around her.

Why did the demonic plague manifest?

How could such monstrous beings exist in this world?

And by what right did they relentlessly seize the homes of her people, the denizens of the Northern Reaches?

Why did she and Paresha lose their brothers so cruelly, both at once?

While a vile scoundrel like Lucius could revel in constant companionship with his own brother, indulging in every depravity within the city walls?

Vireta… that child held no grievance against Mitchel, nor was she even significant enough to be a mere obstacle.

Why had they struck her with such brutal force?!

She and her companions had never sought to commit evil, yet why did misfortune relentlessly pursue them?!

Why?

If good people were perpetually doomed to suffer while cruel, cunning villains inevitably rose to power, then what meaning remained in everything she had ever done?!

What was the justification for goodness?

And what, then, was the reason to refrain from evil?!!!

She had endured enough; she was weary of the world’s inexplicable malice.

And her Master… even her Master…

“Kaelan… why did you kill them?”

Her question came without warning, leaving Kaelan rooted to the spot, momentarily dazed.

“What?”

“Why did you kill Hold, Hugo, and Aileen?

Why did you snatch away my comrades, slaughtering so many innocent lives…?”

“I…”

The young witch’s expression flickered, a tremor passing through her features, before settling back into a mask of serene indifference.

Her ruby-like eyes, deep and tranquil as still water, betrayed no emotion.

“Oh? So now, in this moment, you choose to remember and seek vengeance against me?”

“I demand answers… Tell me… from where does all this twisted, tyrannical, utterly irrational evil truly spring…?”

“Tell me!!!”

The fierce she-wolf’s eyes blazed with emerald magical light as she roared and lunged at the witch, only to be halted by a magical barrier at the chessboard’s edge, slowly sinking to her knees.

“Oh.”

Kaelan fell silent, then gently leaned closer to the chessboard’s edge, her gaze locking with Saranya’s.

In the chaotic heart of the hall, a thick, restrictive barrier separated them, yet the figures of the two young women seemed to overlap, both trembling imperceptibly.

“You shouldn’t be asking such questions, Little Ya… You’re losing control… You’re being influenced by Lenix—”

“No… it’s not…”

Saranya shook her head with a mechanical, jerky motion, like a marionette whose strings had been abruptly severed.

That hoarse ‘no’ was savagely crushed between her teeth, emerging as a guttural, unwilling growl the instant it escaped her throat.

“No!!!”

Her voice, though laced with hysteria, was rendered fragile and broken by the sheer weight of her despair.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else… I truly…”

“…”

“Kaelan… I’m so tired…”

Perhaps it was guilt, or perhaps an inability to confront the despair and bitterness in her s*ave’s eyes, but the witch was the first to avert her gaze, lowering her head, letting her hair fall to conceal her expression:

“Are you quite finished venting your frustrations on me?”

A few crystalline droplets traced paths down her cheeks.

Kaelan, her voice hoarse, clenched her fingertips tightly, the force of her grip causing ripples to spread across the barrier before her.

“My reason? It’s quite simple, really… I forcibly imprinted my hatred upon you.

I used you as a mere plaything for my darkest desires, craving you, delighting in your torment.

So I systematically destroyed everything around you, ensuring you would be left with no one but me to rely on.

That, Little Ya, is my reason.”

“Ah… ahh… ah…”

Saranya’s expression slowly crumbled, her despair manifesting in wretched whimpers.

“As for your other questions, I simply do not know… I suppose I’ve disappointed you—”

“You bastard, ahhhhh—! Why did you even return?! I’ll kill… kill… oh… ohh… wailing…”

Saranya slammed a fist against the magic barrier.

On the other side, Kaelan, still mid-sentence, flinched back, her neck retracting in a startled reflex.

“Kill me?”

Kaelan lifted her tear-filled eyes, fixing them on the bruised fist before her, and suddenly, a painful sob escaped her lips.

“So that is how you perceive me… Of course… it’s logical… You would, naturally, feel this way…”

In the next breath, the witch desperately reined in her crumbling emotions, her face contorting into a mask of frenzied madness, a wretched smirk twisting her lips.

“You cannot kill me, you weak, pathetic s*ave.

You are utterly incapable… My Little Ya can only obey me, forever prostrate at my feet.

Tell me, beyond these futile struggles, what other delusions do you harbor…? Huh?”

“I…”

“I despise this now, truly despise it… Little Ya, Master has put so much effort into your training, why won’t you simply obey…?”

As if attempting to absolve herself of some unspoken guilt, Kaelan muttered nervously, a sinister flash of black-purple magical light gleaming in her eyes.

Saranya instantly felt a searing cramp rip through her abdomen.

As always, her strength abandoned her first, followed swiftly by the gradual erosion of her will to resist.

“You wish to save Vireta?”

“Yes, yes…”

“Breaking ties with Lucius now, having me use magic to force a breakthrough, would yield no benefit.”

“Mm…”

“Therefore, only by continuing this game of chess does Vireta retain a sliver of hope, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Such superfluous thoughts will only hinder you.

You are so weary now… it is enough to simply hold Master in your mind, yes?”

“Yes… Master…”

“Little Ya, once the enemy is vanquished, Master will mend your mind.

In return, you shall accompany Master for some well-deserved relaxation, won’t you?”

“Yes, Master… yes… Thank you, Master~”

Kaelan extended her hand, tracing an ethereal caress across Saranya’s faintly reddened cheek.

Then, wiping away her own tears, she cast a glance at her teammates across the playing field.

With everyone’s attention fixed on Vireta, their interaction had largely gone unnoticed.

“Make your next move quickly now; Lucius is surely growing impatient—”

“Master! Master, wait…”

Saranya suddenly called out to Kaelan with an urgent plea, causing the latter to momentarily falter.

“Hm?”

“Saranya wishes to apologize… Truthfully, Master, Saranya was truly happy to see you return…”

“Oh… is that so? Hehe…”

Kaelan’s expression became captivated, her gaze fixed on Saranya’s lusterless pupils, a bitter smile curling her lips.

“How wonderful…”