"A villain? I'm an artist."
With a sinister smile, the adventurer hunter drew the dagger at his waist. With narrowed eyes, he thrust the blue-tipped blade toward Hannah and me, his gaze reminiscent of some insect.
"This is my first time fighting an insect."
"I am not a magician. I am an artist who sculpts people with the beautiful magic God created."
“No matter how I look at it, it seems right… It’s divided into head, chest, and stomach. Oh… Maybe it’s because it doesn’t have six arms.”
The adventurer hunter, perhaps noticing that I was cursing him, opened his eyes and asked me.
"In what part is that so?"
A man staring at me with narrowed eyes. He seemed to be squeezing my throat with a murderous intent, as if he would slit my throat if I said anything that offended him.
I shrugged.
From the way he stoops and slowly walks towards you, to the way he wields two daggers in reverse. He's the very definition of a locust.
I had sworn not to judge a person by their appearance, but the man before me looked uncomfortably insect-like. Isn't calling him a human itself an insult to humanity?
I told him the uncomfortable truth to protect human dignity.
"It looked like a locust, so I mistook it for an insect."
"yes?"
"It looks so frail that it looks like it could die if you hit it with a stick, but strangely enough, it has the personality of a dirty insect."
You mean.
It's really ugly.
"It looks like a locust over there."
A crack slowly formed on the man's face. Perhaps it was because he was confronted with an uncomfortable truth. His mother must have always gaslighted him, telling him he was handsome. He worried that revealing the uncomfortable truth might make him seem undutiful.
But what can I do?
It really looks like a locust.
The man smiled wryly. He must have been afraid of being seen as narrow-minded, so he gave an awkward smile and muttered, "Ahaha." It felt good.
"You say I look like a locust?"
"yes."
"Hahaha... This is driving me crazy. This is the first time I've seen someone talk to me like this."
"You have really good friends."
"...Do you want to die?"
My sincerity did not reach the grasshopper who realized his mother's lies.
I know this because I saw the scene in the novel where Mikhail gets trampled by this guy.
-Archbishop of Madness...! Do you know how many innocent people died at your hands!
-Kishishishit... I simply created a work of art. I simply purified the filth that destroys the world through the art of death.
-Kill him… .
-You said that last time too, but you couldn't kill me. It's truly a shame. Mr. Mikhail... I want to make you into a work of art someday, too.
The scene where he overwhelmed Mikhail, displaying true madness. He was the character who had shown an overwhelming presence against the heroine's party.
Not now.
Now he was just a performance artist resembling an insect.
I spoke to him seriously.
"This is my first time in my life."
"..."
"I met someone who resembled a grasshopper. If I were an elementary school student, I would have put it in an insect collecting box and tried to raise it."
The adventurer hunter's smile gradually dried. Perhaps it was because he realized a truth he hadn't known for decades. If he had a mirror at home, he would know.
Surely, he didn't realize he resembled an insect. Perhaps he even deluded himself into thinking he was handsome. I didn't realize that was the case in the novel, but I'm deeply sorry for unintentionally attacking him personally.
"I'm sorry. But you really do look alike, so I apologize for the inconvenience."
"I am..."
An adventurer hunter with a mixture of resentment.
The trembling voice seems to raise questions about the secret of birth.
I never thought the villain would be pitiful.
My heart ached.
If it were modern times, you could have borrowed the power of medicine. Blame being born in the wrong era. You locust.
"Jeega..."
Black energy began to gather around the locust's dagger.
An ominous yet chilling atmosphere.
It was black magic.
Flash. A grasshopper opens its eyes and speaks.
"Do you mean to say that you resemble that ugly being?"
I said, drawing the sword at my waist.
"yes."
In an instant, the locust's body flew towards me. A black aura, like a haze, quickly obscured my vision, suffocating me.
With a bang, it disappeared, leaving behind only a powerless afterimage.
['Black Magic Resistance' counters 'Pascal's' magic.]
I smiled a villainous smile.
A pure white smile that is cruel yet at the same time capable of overwhelming the opponent.
"What? Did you just shoot me with a poison dart?"
A provocation more powerful than any mental magic reached Pascal.
"I thought it was a grasshopper, but it was a different insect. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."
Pascal's reason has since flown away.
***
"Ugh... Ugh..."
Rowan ran quickly.
The destination was the source of a roaring noise heard from the mountaintop. An ominous aura accompanied the strong smell of blood, carried by the wind.
Strangely, I feel anxious.
I certainly didn't think that would happen, but the ominous thoughts didn't seem to show any signs of abating.
The image of my youngest daughter dying kept flashing through my mind. I pictured her desperately searching for me, and I imagined myself embracing her cold, frozen corpse.
'shit….'
I had many thoughts while running here.
'Did I do something wrong?'
'If my youngest dies, will I be able to handle it?'
'Are you confident that you won't regret it?'
One thing is certain.
If his daughter were found dead, Rowan wouldn't be able to think rationally like he does now.
If just one of the many concerns that come to mind comes true.
If something like that were to unfold before his eyes, Rowan wouldn't be able to maintain his sanity.
Either wipe out all the orc colonies in the Hamel Mountains, or perhaps even exterminate the orc species from the empire.
Because you'll want to make any excuse.
Because I'm sure he won't look back on himself for providing the cause, making excuses like, "If there were no orcs, my daughter wouldn't have died."
Rowan. He knows best that he's a stubborn, stubborn perfectionist who doesn't easily admit his mistakes.
'Fool.'
Little by little, the source of the sound began to appear.
Human corpses were visible through the trees. Some were clearly the work of orcs, while others bore the marks of human charring.
Rowan gripped his sword tightly.
I was impatient.
The fallen corpse overlapped with my daughter's appearance. My heart, which had been so strong, swayed like a reed.
I thought I was insensitive to death, but I thought I had created and seen death while traveling through countless battlefields.
At this moment, I was more afraid than any war.
A familiar sight comes into view.
-father….
In the hallucination, the orc's habitat where the daughter was dying began to appear.
Rowan kicked the ground to check, certain his daughter was there. But contrary to Rowan's wishes, a thick cloud of dust was rising there.
I couldn't see ahead.
'Shit'
I had a gut feeling.
He said it was already too late.
In the hallucination, my daughter's last appearance was a cloud of dust. Her breathing ceased in the cloud, which obscured even an inch of her vision.
I was walking aimlessly through a cloud of dust, having lost my mind.
Chaengrang.
A familiar sword struck my toe.
A gorgeous gold handle, a golden ruby carved into the center, and the family crest engraved on the blade.
It was a long-standing memory that Hannah had given him when she first came into the world, telling him to use this sword to spread the name of Histania when she grew up.
I didn't know you still had this sword.
The days are over.
A sword that has been used for so long that there are fingerprints on the handle.
Although he had bought countless swords for his other children, he had only bought one for Hannah, and it stuck to his heart like a nail.
It was sharper than anything else. It pierced the heart more deeply than any sword, and left a scar more severe than any swordsmanship.
The sword he had bought for her was lying on the floor.
"..."
Blood flows excitedly on the floor.
Although the blood was mostly green, that of the orcs, there was also a fair amount of red human blood mixed in, giving it a cloudy color.
Rowan said with a smirk.
"...no."
Negative words came out in a voice.
I can't believe it.
You shouldn't believe it
My father is a sword master.
He is the sword of the empire.
As a father, I can't stand to see someone die so meaninglessly.
What did you swing your sword for?
Why did he treat his daughter so cruelly when she wanted to be recognized so badly?
Rowan's mind couldn't find an answer.
Only now did Rowan remember the single line of text written on the blue window.
'sinner'
I see
He was a sinner.
It's been a long time since I've heard an awkward name from Rowan's mouth.
"Hannah. Where are you?"
He spoke in a fading voice towards the billowing clouds.
“You have to spar with me. You promised….”
But he didn't answer.
I hated myself so much for ignoring Hannah so cruelly that day on her birthday.
What tragedy awaits me when that smoke clears?
Could this be the nightmare I saw in my fantasy coming back to life?
Rowan was scared.
“Dad….”
I think I can finally admit it now.
“I’m sorry, Dad…”
That was when.
puck…!
"Ms. Hannah, you shouldn't hit there. You should hit the part covered by the armor so it won't show."
“Aha…! Is this a perfect crime?”
"Yes."
Through the disappearing cloud of dust, I could see my daughter beating someone with a man.
“Hehehe….”
The look on Hannah's face as she struck someone with her sword was the happiest she had ever seen.