The chains above me rattled as another scream tore out of my throat and broke into a wet, ragged croak.
Spit and blood dribbled down my chin, stringing to my chest. Every breath burned.
"Mmmm…" The inquisitor's pleased hum slithered over my skin.
She tilted her head, eyes bright with cruel delight, the iron rod in her hand glowing dull red.
"There it is," she whispered, almost breathless. "That perfect sound."
The rod kissed my shoulder. Flesh hissed. Smoke curled. I arched and howled until my voice guttered out.
My body shook so hard the shackles carved deeper into my wrists.
"P-please…!" I gasped, chest heaving. "I didn't kill Sera. I swear. I swear it wasn't me."
She laughed. Not loud. Not kind. A soft, cracked giggle that made my stomach turn.
"Oh, little scapegoat, I know." She leaned in, mockingly tender, her breath hot at my ear.
"But truth is boring. Pain is… useful."
My head thumped forward, drool spilling. "Why?"
"Because," she sighed, as if explaining to a child, "that pathetic orphanage Sera crawled out of won't stop yapping. They'd try to run to the Sinclair Guards, all bright armor and brighter oaths." She smiled without warmth.
"We can't have that. Vorrak's father is a very generous patron of the SBV. So we give the good little Sinclairs a neat story and a body to match." Her eyes glittered. "You."
The rod pressed harder. I screamed again, high, broken, until it collapsed into choking gurgles.
My jaw shook uncontrollably; more spit leaked. I could taste iron and ash.
She dragged the back of her knuckles down my face, leaving a soot smear. "Look at you. Shaking. Cracking. Beautiful."
A pleased breath hitched in her throat as she watched me tremble.
"I… didn't…" The words came out shredded. My legs spasmed, useless, dangling.
"I told you. I don't care." Another soft, delighted exhale.
"Now make the sound again."
Heat. Pain. White noise roaring in my ears. The world narrowed to her smile and the stink of scorched skin.
My vision pulsed black at the edges; the cathedral stones swam.
Darkness snapped shut.
"Hauh!" "Hah"
I lunged awake with a gasp, clutching the ground. Cold air flooded my lungs in ragged pulls.
My whole body was shaking, phantom pain crawling under my skin.
Stone. Silence. The dungeon.
I turned my head. The slick sheen of melted ice pooled beside me, dripping from the rock in slow, patient threads.
Not a dream.
A memory. And her laugh was still ringing in my skull.
"[Yo! Good evening. You seem to be enjoying a rather wonderful dream,]"
I groaned and clutched my head, pain lancing behind my eyes.
The memory of her laugh still echoed in my skull. My teeth ground together.
"I'll torture that SBV bitch…" I spat, voice low, trembling with hate.
"[Seems like you're talking about that inquisitor from SBV. The one you killed in your past life. Rest assured, let's do the same this time too.]"
"Not the same." My voice was sharp, cold.
"Last time, I killed her in that fight because I wasn't strong enough to capture her. But this life…" I raised my head, my expression twisting.
"This life I won't give her such an easy way out."
"[Sure, but in your current state, with your novice aura? She'll fold you before you even get the chance to look at her,]"
I exhaled through gritted teeth. "Yeah, I know… damn it." My fist slammed the ground.
"I didn't say I'd do it now. Seriously, whose side are you even on?"
I pulled up my stat window, expecting to see the numbers crawling in the single digits.
My eyes widened. "Wait, what?"
"[Oh! I distributed the 56 stat points you got from the quest reward to your stats,]" Nexar answered casually.
"Then… does that mean I got the etherium?"
"[Look beside you.]"
I followed his words. There, resting on the rocky floor, a crystalline glow shimmered against the dim dungeon light.
I reached down, heart hammering, and picked it up.
Ding! [Not enough meridians to use the Etherium.]
My eyes lit up. "It's… Etherium."
"[Fenrir left it as a thank-you gift before leaving.]"
"I see."
I wrapped the crystal in my leather coat, securing it tightly before hoisting it over my shoulder.
Then I sheathed my new C-rank sword and slid it through my belt. "What's the time now, Nexar?"
"[It's around 6 p.m.]"
"Huh?" I raised an eyebrow.
"[You're one hell of a beauty while sleeping,]"
"...Stay away from me."
I stepped out of the dungeon, the stale air behind me giving way to the forest's cool breath.
Dusk light spilled through the canopy, strips of orange and red dancing across the leaves as the evening breeze brushed against my skin.
For the first time today, I actually felt… peace
Then came Nexar's words flickering before me:
"[I kept aside 4 stat points from the reward. Make a palm and drink the basic recovery potion. You broke a rib, in case you didn't notice.]"
I blinked, "Ohhh, that's what this pain is," I muttered, touching my side where a sharp sting pulsed with every breath.
"[Yeah, so now—]"
"You are such a great friend, Nexar," I cut in, smiling despite the ache.
"[…]" His silence was almost a glare.
"Now add those 4 points to sta—"
"[Shut up and drink the potion.]"
**********
"Sinclair, huh?" I muttered, remembering the word from the dream and rubbing my mouth after downing that bitter potion, eyes drifting to the horizon burning in orange.
"I wonder what she's doing now…"
"[I take it you're talking about the Duchess of this land?]"
I nodded slowly. "Those five years I worked under her banner as her warlord… the best days of my past two lives."
The dusk light washed over me as I walked the forest path toward the village, each step pulling at old memories.
"[Don't even think about going to meet her now… guards will throw you out.]"
"Damn it! Don't ruin the moment," I clicked my tongue. "I know I started over. Alright? I don't need the reminder." My expression darkened.
"Still… I can't believe she was executed after being overthrown."
"[Not your fault. You were dispatched to face the Demon Lord by imperial decree.]"
"Yeah," I muttered, jaw tight.
Then, lowering my voice as I ducked low to avoid the main road leading toward the orphanage, "But still… who the hell could even possibly overthrow her?"
"[I heard Kael Valmont, the Marquis of Valmont then, was behind it.]"
I clenched my teeth. "Yeah, that's what the letter said. But there's no way that pig-fucking bastard Valmont could've touched her."
"[Agreed. Not to mention she was stronger than most warlords of the time… and had alliances with the Valkyries.]"
I pulled out my sword, snapping the rusted chain that locked the cattle shed door with one clean strike.
"Well," I said, the edge of a grin creeping across my face, "we'll find that out in this walkthrough, won't we?"
"[As you wish.]"
*****
Vorrak's Pov:
Flies. They're everywhere.
They crawl over my face, slip into my nose, swarm my ears.
The vomit I spewed earlier after watching Bastion's legs get devoured by insects now writhes with maggots, and those same flies return to me, fat with filth.
Gunther… hah… poor Gunther. He's gone. His mind cracked when he cut his flesh open without so much as a drop of anesthetic.
Now he just lies there, drooling, muttering the same pitiful sound over and over.
"Ahh… ahh… ahh…"
The blood from my arms and legs dried into black crust long ago, and now it peels away, sweet rot drawing insects to gnaw at what's left of me.
My wounds are decomposing while I still breathe.
I want death. Desperately.
But I can't even bite my tongue. The gag jammed into my mouth makes sure of that.
The door creaked open.
A shadow stepped inside. Rune. His clothes were torn, his face pale, but those crimson eyes burned with something cruel.
Over his shoulder he carried his leather jacket, folded neatly around something heavy. He set it down by the entrance, almost careful… reverent.
Then, without even sparing a glance at Bastion's corpse, black and crawling with flies, he walked toward me.
The rod pinning my leg to the wall clanged as he yanked it free.
I screamed into the gag, the flies scattering as blood, half-clotted, oozed again.
Then, before I could breathe, he drove the rods back in. This time spreading my legs apart. The white-hot pain made my vision spark.
He crouched low, his shadow falling over me. His fist swung toward my genitals, once, twice.
MMMMHHHH... A scream tore from my throat, muffled by the cloth.
"Wh-why?" I choked when he pulled the gag away. My voice was ragged, torn like my body.
"Why are you doing this? Just… just because we bullied you?"
Rune tilted his head, those crimson eyes narrowing.
He lifted his hand and pointed, not at me, but at Bastion. The corpse. What was left of him.
"I died like that," he said, his voice flat, cold. "Except, I had Multiple wounds. Left to rot. Flies eating me alive. Do you know what you said to me then, when you came after the guards' interrogation?" His tone sharpened.
"'This is the fate of the weak.'"
My head throbbed. Confusion clawed at me. "Wh-what? I never.. I never said that!"
Rune's lips curved into something between a grin and a snarl.
"Well… technically, you didn't. Not in this life." His fist struck again and I howled. "But you would have. If things went the same way."
Another blow. My body convulsed. His words stabbed deeper than his fists.
His fist came down again.
Thud!
"AAAHHHHHH!" I screamed, my voice ripping from my throat.
The pain split through my body like fire, my skull pounding from the echo of my own cry.
Rune leaned close, his crimson eyes glinting, his breath calm, steady, while mine came in ragged gasps.
"Do you know what's worse than dying like Bastion?" His hand rose again. "Living long enough to wish you had."
Thud!
"GUHHHH.. ahhh! Stop! PLEASE!" My words choked on blood and spit, drool dripping from my lips.
My face burned with humiliation as I writhed against the rods holding me down. The flies returned, crawling over the wetness on my chin.
Rune didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.
Smack!
Another blow.
"AAHHHHHhhhhh… ahhh… aghhhh!" I sobbed, my body jerking. My voice broke, but still he didn't stop.
I gasped, coughing, trying to form words. "Wh-why me… why us?!"
Rune crouched lower, his voice barely above a whisper, yet more terrifying than any scream.
"Because… This is the fate of the weak."
Thud!
"AAHHHHHHHH! N-nooo… p-please… stopppp!" My vision blurred, snot and tears mixing as I thrashed.
He tilted his head, watching me squirm like I was nothing. "This is what it means to be weak, Vorrak." His knuckles cracked. "I'm just returning the favor you gave me."
Another punch.
Crack!
"GGGUHHHHHHHhhhh! Aahhhhhh! AAAHHH!" My scream rattled the walls, and I could taste bile in my throat, feel my body sagging, every nerve burning.
Rune finally leaned back, his face shadowed but his eyes still glowing red. He didn't look satisfied. No. He looked hungry.
I whimpered, my voice small, broken. "Please… Rune… enough…"
But he only smiled, slow and cruel.
"Oh no, Vorrak. This is only the beginning."
*****
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and leaves.
"Ahh, Sera… have I kept you waiting?" I asked, my eyes falling on the white-haired girl standing quietly in the dark.
The moonlight spilled over her like a blessing, elevating every feature of hers.
Her blue dress swayed softly with the breeze, her grace as flawless as the night sky behind her.
She tilted her head, shaking it gently from left to right.
"Mmhmm… I just got here," she said, her voice as calm as ever.
"We should move," Sera whispered after a pause, her tone more serious this time.
I nodded, stepping forward to walk beside her.
For a moment, silence filled the path, only the rustling of leaves and our footsteps breaking it.
Then, her right hand slowly reached out, brushing against mine before hesitantly clutching it.
Her fingers tightened, her grip trembling just slightly.
I glanced at her, and under the silver glow of the moon I caught her face. Flushed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
She lowered her head, refusing to meet my gaze, her hair hiding part of her expression as we walked side by side.
And yet, I could feel the warmth of her hand, steady now, refusing to let go.
The path stretched before us, bathed in silver light, and I felt her hand tighten inside mine as though she were anchoring herself.
"Have you said your goodbyes to Sister Seraphina and the kids?" I asked gently, squeezing back.
"Y-yes," she replied, her voice trembling just a little.
"I spoke a lot with Sister Seraphina… I told her I would be visiting my father's grave. I played with the kids too…" She hesitated, then added softly, "Sister asked about you."
"And?" I pressed with a small smile.
"I said you were fine… and that you missed her."
"I see." I exhaled slowly, gazing at the trees swaying in the dusk breeze.
"We'll meet her again for sure."
Sera nodded firmly, and for a heartbeat the warmth of her hand grew more certain. Then, almost desperately, she clutched harder.
"D-don't worry about anything. We made the right choice… We had to escape from those scums. And I'll be sure to protect you if Vorrak tries anything."
Her voice quivered, but there was steel buried under the fear.
Was she encouraging me… or herself?
But I nodded anyway, forcing a smile. "Of course. After all, I have a guardian knight beside me."
At that, Nexar's words flickered in front of me: [After all, dead men can't come for revenge.]
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips. My mind flashed back.
Gunther's hollowed eyes rolling back. Vorrak's body decomposing as worms and flies feasted on what remained, his manhood severed, lost somewhere in that rotting hell.
The night air felt colder, sharper. I smiled wider, this time not from comfort, but from satisfaction.