Chapter Twelve: The Execution
Before the news that Faubrey had been defeated in the war could reach their homeland, we sent out a false message that they had actually won and that Takt’s harem was to gather in Melromarc. It worked like a charm, serving to lure out all of the other women in Faubrey with connections to Takt.
In regard to those women who had been forced into membership in his harem—the women who had been controlled by the fox woman’s illusions— those illusions had come to an end with the death of their mistress. However, this strategy to sweep up the women from Takt’s retinue had failed to catch one target—Witch.
She’d taken some other women with her from the building in which Takt’s harem had been living and then upped and disappeared. That seemed proof that she’d known Takt had been defeated in the battle. There were reports of her walking away, looking flustered. Maybe she just had good instincts, and maybe she had placed something on Takt that allowed her to know what was going on.
It had also come to light that the reason Takt hadn’t come after us right away when we tried to escape, after first encountering him, was because he had been helping Witch remove the high-level slave seal that had been placed on her. Doing so required the blood of the owner of the slaves—which had meant the queen. So they’d used her blood that had splashed onto the ground to break the seal.
The reason for removing the seal had been due to concerns about the master of the slave seal, as appointed by the queen, activating it and killing Witch.
It was all a bit much for me. We didn’t know where the remaining four seven star weapons had flown off to either. I wondered where they might have gone. Of course, the staff had returned to Trash, and Rishia had officially become the projectile seven star hero.
I was with the other heroes, sitting with the royal party during the execution. Trash and Melty didn’t look that happy about having to go through this. Melty was doing her best to avoid watching altogether, choosing to play around with Filo instead. When I’d suggested that maybe this wasn’t something someone of Melty’s age should be seeing, she’d replied that it was the duty of a member of the royal family.
“Come on! Spit it out! Who is the power behind you?” the executioner shouted.
“I-I can’t . . .” Takt stammered.
“Do you know what will happen if you don’t speak? Here’s a taste!” The executioner put the boot in.
“S-stop it!” Takt screamed. The false hero, the one who had planned to take the world for his own plaything and overthrow it completely, was now facing public execution along with all of his allies. In order to maintain the authority of the heroes, not only the four holies but also those of the seven star heroes that we had among us were all in attendance for the execution.
We’d let the coalition army and each nation know that the Zeltoble Dark Guild would be holding the executions. It was an organization well known for putting on a good show. Zeltoble had proposed the execution methods, and with the approval of each nation, it led to this execution.
I’d looked over the details myself, just to keep up to speed. The issue was how the executions were being performed.
First, after I defeated Takt, an hourglass had been used to reset his level, prior to his even regaining awareness. It happened to not just him, but all the women in his retinue. As a result, a group that had been at their lowest level of 250 were now a pathetic gaggle at level 1. It was almost painful to watch them. Some of them could barely move, although those who had been warriors were at least mobile.
I didn’t even know how many we had gathered in the end. Motoyasu had been running around collecting the women up. His comment had been, “So many pigs out there. So filthy, I say.” Quite different from his past self, when he’d been quick to flirt with anything in a skirt.
Back to the execution proposal that Zeltoble had made: Takt had his neck and hands placed inside wooden stocks, and then shackles were also placed on his feet, just to make sure he really couldn’t move. Literally the only thing he could do was watch. It might have seemed like overkill, but with the weird powers he had exhibited so far, it was worth playing it safe.
Those powers were also part of why we were torturing Takt. We needed to know what other abilities he had and what else he might know. Basically, we were using his women as hostages against him . . . but Takt showed no sign of cracking. Perhaps his secrets were more important than the lives of his women.
He’d started by claiming he didn’t know anything, but Sadeena and the Zeltoble torturer had quickly seen through those lies. He definitely had some kind of secret, but Takt also wasn’t going to spit it up. He was watching a procession of his women dying in front of his eyes. There being a near-infinite number of women in the world, maybe he thought he could just cast these off without a second thought.
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.
The women walked up, all casual and in control. They definitely didn’t think they were going to get executed. They were all women exactly like Witch, so just looking at them turned my stomach. How great would it had been if Witch had actually been among them!
“Ladies!” Takt shouted.
“Huh? Faker, you look so sad with all your women getting killed,” one of them said.
“What?! Please! Just get out of here!” he pleaded with them.
“How dare you even talk to me?!” One of the women, giving off almost exactly the same kind of atmosphere as Witch, proceeded to kick Takt in the face.
This whole thing had all been set up earlier in the day. A few hours before the executions, we had gathered Takt’s women in one place and asked them a question: “You are all close friends with the false hero Takt, correct? Spill his secrets!”
It made sense that those most loyal would be closest to him, but they all swore they didn’t know anything. Those who perhaps weren’t quite so loyal gave less clear-cut answers. Not all of Takt’s allies were blindly following him, after all.
“I wasn’t close with him!” One of the bitches was quick to deny her relationship with him.
“You traitor!”
“Shameless whore!”
“This is how you’d repay his kindness?” These and similar shouts came from the other women. I had seen the whole thing too, of course. These women were slime, all of them.
“I see. In that case, during the execution, we need you to proclaim that you aren’t the liar’s ally. If it’s the truth, we will let you live,” the executioner said, exactly as he had been told to. The women had cursed the traitor to start with, but it was true that some of them had simply been trying to survive by using their own cuteness against Takt.
Takt grunted again now, “W-what are you doing?!”
“I’ve been through hell, thanks to you tricking me!” one woman screamed. Others were kicking Takt in the face, arms and feet, and even more tender areas. It really was a terrible sight to see. Whoever had thought this up was sick in the head.
“I-I see! If you denounce me, you will be—” Takt started.
“I’m telling you to shut up! You filthy animal!” Takt was finally unable to conceal his confusion as the women laid into him at full tilt.
He had been right, too, with what he had started to say. At least half right.
“How dare you trick us like that?!”
“An imposter like you, putting on such airs!”
“All our friends went to their deaths, still believing in you! You murderer!”
“You pretended to be thinking about the world, but you were just thinking about yourself! You cold-hearted monster!”
“Pervert! Scumbag!”
“How many people do you think have died for you?” The women continued to take turns to berate him. I knew what was going to happen and I was still starting to feel sorry for him.
“You tricked us, nothing more. We haven’t done anything wrong. That’s why we’re doing this to you, to prove it.” The women from Takt’s retinue continued to laugh as they beat him. They continued to laugh as they snapped his fingers, one after the other, at the order of the executioner.
“You . . . devil . . .” he managed through his pain. Perhaps he’d finally realized that his women were truly enjoying causing him such pain, because his eyes died a second time. “I know . . . I know what this is now . . .”
A dream. He was about to say this was a dream. Then he glared at me and shouted.
“This can’t be real! There’s no way this could be happening to me! This is a dream! If it isn’t, then . . . hey! I know you’re watching! I request a do-over! I swear to come back to life and make all of these scumbags pay! So come right now!” Takt made this loud declaration to all of the heroes attending the execution and in particular to me and Trash.
“I see. It very much sounds like you know something. Who is there operating behind you?” I asked. If anyone did show up to save him, we were going to have to fight them—the puppeteer pulling the strings.
Takt quickly shut his mouth, as though he was snapping back to himself. He was requesting to come back to life and having a do-over. Kyo’s research suggested the one behind all this had some kind of system for spare bodies. There was also the fact that Witch had managed to escape. A cooperator with links to Kyo . . . I wondered if that was it.
They might have simply submerged again, preparing to cause more trouble.
Then there was the talk of him having defeated Kirin. I didn’t know what he had done with that energy. These were just some of the questions that still lingered.
The Shield Spirit and the others had said the one behind all this wasn’t an enemy on any level we could hope to defeat, but rather something that consumed worlds, and it was the role of the heroes to stop that being from getting into this world.
It sounded like little more than a clump of twisted evil. I wondered if it was some kind of uncertain enemy, like darkness or something like that—or something like a Demon King or devil. Hmmm.
It looked like there was nothing else we could do. If he wasn’t going to confess things now, I’d have to ask something else.
“If you’re going to spill it, now’s the time. Witch . . . the woman you know as Malty. Tell me where she’s run off to. Do that, and I’ll settle for just killing you,” I demanded.
“You’re joking! Why do you think I’d know where Malty is? I’ve no idea!” It really sounded like he didn’t know. That did tell me one thing. Witch and the one behind the waves were two different forces.
“I see. So someone other than Witch is pulling your strings?” I said.
“I-I can’t . . .” He really was pigheaded. We were taking his precious women out in front of him, one after the other!
Maybe Takt’s women were all dumb too, but none of them knew where Witch was. The only way was to get Takt to spill it.
“I hate to say it, Takt, but you have to know there are punishments in this world worse than death,” I told him. It was time. I pointed down below to the execution stage.
An executioner appeared with a monster on a chain. The monster was a soul vaccumer. There were no soul eaters in this world, but there were monsters that ate souls apparently.
Externally . . . it looked like a massive blue-white worm. It was related to the dune monster I had in my village. I was borrowing some that had been raised close to Faubrey—we had a number of them here for the executions. They were literally monsters that sucked up souls.
“I told you when we were fighting, right? I had no intention of letting you off easily in death! I’m going to destroy even your soul!” I told him. All the soul vaccumers present had been given orders to eat the souls of those killed here. We had quite a few with stuffed bellies already.
“If you die and this monster eats your soul . . . do you think you’ll be coming back from that?” I asked him. Takt’s expression paled visibly. Of course it did.
He’d still been possessed of such naïve ideas of this all being a dream, that he could have a do-over or that someone was going to come and carry his soul away and bring him back to life.
I considered what would happen, then, when he learned that a monster was going to eat that soul.
He hadn’t been taking this seriously because he’d thought he was going to get another chance. He’d been thinking that if he was executed and the women survived, he’d have a chance to come and save them. That was why he’d been able to say all those stupid things.
“Well then,” I said.
“S-stop it!” Takt shouted. It was his turn. Finally, it was here.
“If you really want me to stop, this is your chance. Confess. Tell me everything,” I said.
“. . . Very well,” Takt said through his moans. “Just don’t hurt them anymore!”
“Are you giving me orders now?” I asked.
“The one who gave me this power was—” And then he suddenly started to scream, his head literally starting to change shape.
“What the hell is going on?!” I shouted. It was like some powerful seal just activated in order to shut Takt up. A moment later there was a nasty sound. Takt’s head exploded apart and his . . . soul . . . huh? His soul shredded into pieces and scattered too.
“Bye-bye. Treating people like objects, being so condescending, and having all those fawning sicko women around you is what finished you off,” one of the women snarled. It was like having Witch there with us.
That wasn’t what I was concerned with in that moment, however.
It was Takt’s sudden death and the scattering of his soul. I just didn’t know who could set something like that up or just how powerful the one behind the waves was.
“Master Takt!” The women who were left and did still believe in him from the bottom of their hearts gave some pleading screams. If only that loyalty had taken a slightly different vector, one of them might have become a second Yomogi . . . That said, this whole execution left me with a nasty feeling in the back of my mind.
“There. We helped you dispose of the imposter. Now set us free!” Numerous women made the same prompt demand, their work here seemingly finished.
“Yes, it is time for your reward. Do it!” As the executioner gave this order, I quietly slipped away. Behind me, the Witch-like bitches got bombarded by a storm of magic and arrows. Their screams filled my ears.
“W-what’s the meaning of this? You’re breaking your promise?!” I didn’t know anything about that. My business here was finished. It was so mentally draining I decided to leave all of this to the experts and move on to the next thing.
We’d have to just continue the investigation into the mysteries surrounding Takt.
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