70 - Stained With Blood

Cough Cough

The old man had another coughing fit, spitting phlegm with blood on the ground. Once he calmed down, he used a fur to wipe his mouth and then carefully lay down on the fur bed in his hut.

He was aware that his end was near after his injury he received years ago. But no gloom was visible on his face. It seemed that he was even glad as he smiled weirdly.

He was happy that he would meet his Lord soon enough after fulfilling his role. He even met the inheritor of his Grand Shaman role.

“Heheh~ I feel a little weak today. It seems the ceremony took a big toll on me…” Shaman had to prepare for the ceremony and ritual that he participated in as he guided his disciple through a baptism of blood in front of everyone. That already made him tired, but as a devout believer, he didn’t go to rest immediately and instead worshipped his Lord for an hour before finally getting up.

Now, he could finally relax as he closed his eyes.

Soon, even breathing sounded in his hut as he fell into a deep sleep.

What he didn’t know was that one hut after another was being raided and people inside being disposed of by someone who poisoned the entire village…

Crack

The newly appointed leader who took the position only a few years ago died quietly in his sleep. Because of the lack of manpower, the new leader was too old and much less formidable than his predecessor making the murder much easier.

Illyan, who already killed everyone outside, quietly crept into the closest huts where the unsuspecting aborigines slept and snapped their necks. It was the cleanest way to kill them in his situation. His bone spear was only sharp enough to pierce the skin when huge force was produced but in this situation, it would draw attention.

Because of that, he twisted their necks in their sleep.

However, he didn’t linger in normal houses for too long. He ventured there to take those strongest since they were a minority that was an actual threat to him.

And so, it wasn’t surprising that after he took care of them, his attention turned to the one who was the biggest threat in this village to him and who he had the vendetta against.

It wasn’t hard to find as it was close to the center of the village and was the biggest building in the village. While he wasn’t aware of the shaman’s prowess, he didn’t dare to be negligent. A skilled shaman could probably play a warrior of the same realm even if he wouldn’t be able to defeat him. Truth be told, he was a little nervous when he poisoned the village well as he feared that the shaman would notice. He made the powder tasteless and colorless, but even then someone of Kaoran’s caliber would notice it in tandem.

He didn’t believe this crazy guy was at the same level as his mentor, but he was still careful. He dared to poison the water only during the ceremony when the shaman didn’t have time to drink so that even if he noticed it would be too late for most villagers.

Quietly, he got closer to the hut and listened to the noise inside.

When he heard the even breathing, he slowly opened the hut's door only enough for him to slip in. Inside, he immediately looked around for possible attacks. However, the shaman was truly sleeping on his bed. When Illyan saw him lying there so peacefully his eyes glinted with coldness.

But he didn’t immediately come to him, and instead, he looked around the room. It was a plain room despite it being the room of the shaman. In one corner, there was a small cauldron and dried herbs hung from the roof, and it was the place where a shaman was concocting. However, the cauldron which was made out of clay was old and half-broken. It had to be quite difficult to do anything more challenging inside it.

Without proper tools, it was impossible to make big progress in herbalism and any other kind of profession. It would take years to learn to make small improvements which would dishearten anyone. That’s why the first thing that Illyan planned to do after getting out of this forest was to get proper tools for his use.

As such, since there was nothing of worth, he didn’t continue to look in that direction and instead turned his attention to the second corner which was obviously dedicated to the so-called Lord.

It was a small altar made out of the horns of some animals with a wooden bowl filled with already hardened and black blood. Next to it was a small and shiny ritual knife that was curved as if made for slitting throats.

Illyan’s eyes shone at the sight of the first proper weapon in this place. After losing everything, he hoped to find another aborigine who had at least decent weapons like Triston did but he didn’t have any luck throughout his time in the forest.

He didn’t understand why those guys didn’t have any metal weapons or even utensils. The ones that they did have probably belonged to other tribes or even people from the south. Did they lack the right techniques to make ones? But they should be able to steal the knowledge from others, right?

‘Tch. It is probably another of their stupid traditions.’

After all, even if metal was impossible for them, the stone and wooden weapons shouldn’t be a problem to create. But their obsession with bones and flesh was probably the reason for their creation of bone weapons.

He didn’t let this thought distract him as he stole the knife. But before he left he noticed another thing that seemed to be of high quality. It was a black robe. He saw the shaman use this robe only during today's ceremony. Like the knife, it was clear that the robe wasn’t made in this clan or even in the entire Frozen Valas Tundra.

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‘I will take it later.’ He decided and came to the bed of the shaman.

Once he got closer to him, he put the knife against his neck prepared to end his miserable life. But his hand didn’t move.

Instead, his hand started to shake and his eyes fluttered. He remembered how this man put him on the stake with complete indifference and looked at him as some kind of monster.

Now, when he finally came to take revenge he would kill him in his sleep? That easily?

Not only that, but Illyan sensed that his body was in a very bad state. Wouldn’t he soon drop dead even if Illyan didn’t do anything? Then what was the point of this revenge?

His face, which was usually expressionless, twisted as he gritted his teeth.

‘“No way I will let you die so easily, you bastard.” He brandished his newfound knife, and with fluent movement, he severed the shaman’s tendons. Shaman immediately woke up from the sensations. Filled with pain, he instinctively wanted to scream but before any noise came out of his mouth, his neck was stomped on by Illyan who coldly looked at the old man.

Shaman, horrified by the pain and the sight of a stranger in his hut, wanted to resist but not only his muscles were weakened but his tendons were now severed making him cripple for the rest of his life.

“Hmmmph~?! Hmmm!” Unable to speak, the shaman started to struggle for his life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything.

“Hope. You. Remember. Me.” Cold voice with a heavy accent resounded in the quiet hut which made the shaman look at his assailant.

“Hmph~?! Hmmmmmmp?!” For a moment, he didn’t recognize the man in front of his eyes, but then realization came to him when he saw the long hair and bloody red eyes.

When Illyan saw the realization in his eyes, he swiped his knife and immediately pierced both of the old man's eyeballs.

The old man wanted to scream, but he couldn’t even make a sound. Streams of blood tears were flowing from his eyes as he turned his head to one direction with a pleading gaze towards some direction.

But Illyan didn’t panic as he immediately knew whose help this guy pleaded for.

“Your Lord won’t help you. Because he doesn’t care about you.” He said this in the Theras language, but he didn’t care if the shaman understood him.

He was satisfied that he was recognized and could begin.

Stab Stab Stab Stab Stab

“Hmmmmmph! Hrrrrmph?! Hrm~”

He stabbed and slashed at the defenseless man, squirming under his foot. Making wounds always deep enough to bring pain but not so severe to make him bleed out.

The time, as if stopped for Illyan, as he maniacally stabbed the man. For a moment, even more cruel ideas passed through his mind, but then he woke up from his trance.

When he saw the man at his last breath, he put his leg away and retreated a few steps to calm down. Feeling overwhelmed by his emotions, he didn’t know how to feel.

On one hand, he felt the exhilaration going through his veins as the unprecedented cruelty made him feel alive for a moment, but on the other hand, once he calmed down a little, he felt like the biggest monster.

But he didn’t want to feel like that. What was the point of revenge if he felt like this?

Remembering the smell of his burned body parts made him feel unwell as he stared at a man whose body was mutilated to the degree where he didn’t look human anymore.

‘No, I can’t think like this.’ Soon, he calmed down. His arm stopped shaking when he remembered all his vendettas in his short life.

‘Revenge was never about the feelings of the one who makes the retribution. It isn’t about avenging people who will never come back. No. It is about the recipient of the revenge. Why should they be able to live their lives after what they did? How many victims were there before you, and how many would there be after you? Even if I don't care about others, I should still make sure that those who hurt me will be hurt back equally or even worse.’

When his eyes were firm again, he prepared to leave, but at that moment, the creaking of the doors resounded.

Illyan didn’t have time to avoid as he felt the air being sliced behind him and so, he did a back kick to whoever attacked him.

Boom

Squelch

But when he made contact, he felt something was amiss as the body was too light.

When he turned around, the worst scenario showed in front of him.

A small prepubescent girl was there, impaled on one of the horns that the altar was built out of, as she stared at him with hatred in her eyes.

“Kill, Kill, Kill! I will kill you!” She screamed out loudly as she stared at the man who murdered her master.

‘Why was she here? Did I wake everyone up before? No. That’s impossible. I am pretty sure that I was quiet.’

When he saw her bleeding there impaled on the altar, he fell into a small shock as he didn’t expect a small kid would attack him so viciously.

Then he noticed her face. She was the one who helped with the ceremony back then.

‘His disciple. Why is she still able to move? Did she not drink the entire time?’

Then he remembered all those bowls of blood they used during the ritual.

‘Could it be that she drank the blood?’

She, who seemed to be only around one decade old, was viciously looking at him as she tried to get out of the horn.

She tried to scream more, but Illyan swept in as he put his hand over her neck.

He wanted to pacify her before trying to reason with her, but he didn’t expect that the first thing she would do was to bite off part of his flesh.

Bite!

“Ugh!” Seeing her like this made him doubt himself.

What could he do with children like this if he wasn’t willing to put them down?

Let them be? Isn’t it like letting the roots of weed alone only for it to pester you in the future?

Deep down, he hoped for the children to be more reasonable so that he can guide them on the right path but…

“Vrrrgghh!!!”

He just realized once again how much this alliance and its so-called Lord was cruel. The children were treated as the Lord’s tools from birth and were devoid of any morality or even the ability to think for themselves.

His plan was destined to be doomed from the beginning.

“Haah… I am sorry, little one…”

“Aarrgh! Arhg-”

Snap

Letting go of the limp body, he stared at his palm.

The palm was free of any blemish, but Illyan knew…

That it was stained with blood. Blood that couldn’t be washed away.

The once vibrant shine in his eyes was now getting dimmer as they started to emit coldness once again.

‘In the end, this is what this world is truly like. People like Kaoran, Degres, and Zers are rare.’

Illyan was aware that this was probably a small drop in the ocean and that there were much worse things happening.

And he couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t even know if he should.

Even if he dedicated his life to saving others… What would come of it? Few more lives would be saved yet the cruelty plaguing the world would never disappear. Why should he try to fight it?

He never aspired to be a hero as other children did.

He wanted to live his life for himself, not for others.

‘Just let it be. Her soul is now free of this rotten life.’

He just sighed and stopped thinking this way.

This was just one village out of numerous ones in this forest. Soon, he would be discovered. He couldn’t win. Nor should he try. Those kids living in this forest were doomed from the beginning.

“It is just a waste of time.”

With a snort, he came back to the body of the shaman as he took the knife which was still stabbed inside of his abdomen, cleaned the knife up, and put it behind his clothes. Then he came closer to the altar where the robe was and tossed it over his shoulders as he put it on himself.

Without looking back, he left the hut with murderous intentions as he was prepared to finish his job…