If one had to describe Ileil’s current mood, it would be “disgust.”
If someone who didn’t know them saw Gro’s current expression full of doting affection, they might truly believe Gro’s self-description without doubt.
She absolutely didn’t want to hear Gro call her “daughter,” even if it was perhaps just the man’s wicked playacting.
Ileil looked at the dignified duke in front of her. How she wanted to roar and refute Gro’s nauseating nonsense, but when Ileil truly tried to do so, she was shocked to find that her throat couldn’t produce any decent sound.
The contract’s effect had already taken hold, as if an anchor in the depths of Ileil’s soul was firmly grasped. It even restricted the girl’s speech. Ileil immediately understood why Gro was confident enough to spare her life.
…
“Come on, Ileil. Hurry and greet the esteemed duke.”
Gro leaned close to the girl’s ear and whispered, like instructing a junior lacking manners.
He’s making me play his daughter…?
An indescribable nausea surged up. Listening to Gro’s nauseating hypocritical tone, she felt like she could vomit out her internals.
Going to throw up, what a joke…
If her remaining life was controlled by Gro, it would be better to die right now.
But if she wilted from this… wouldn’t her father’s death lose its meaning?
Past memories swept in like a storm. As if the wind from her hometown that day still echoed in her ears, the mercenaries watching Isende and Gro’s deathmatch still cheering for that bloody fight.
Her father’s scarred back appeared before her eyes, him half-kneeling on the ground, panting from exhaustion. The long sword pierced through Isende’s chest, shocking blood climbing along the blade and dripping to the ground.
Ileil could only watch helplessly as the light in her father’s eyes gradually faded, the usually gentle golden eyes becoming dim. She witnessed the most important person in her life being taken away.
…
Unforgivable.
The unextinguished flame of vengeance in her heart flared up at this moment, illuminating the girl’s dark path ahead.
The firelight lit up the girl’s golden eyes, clearing the empty haze in her pupils.
It was precisely because her father’s death was so deeply etched in her memory…
Her path of revenge must not stop here,
Even if the end was just being burned to ashes by this fire.
…
“Hello, Duke… I’m very sorry for letting you see my unseemly side due to my poor health.”
Ileil changed her ashen expression from before, slightly bowing and giving the duke an elegant curtsy, completely different from the her who had tried to assassinate Gro earlier.
“Well. Please don’t mind my girl’s rudeness too much, Mr. Lokas.” Gro glanced at Ileil beside him, a trace of imperceptible surprise flashing in his eyes, but he quickly returned to normal:
“As you can see, Ileil’s health isn’t great. Something happened in the group, so she rushed to find me. But it’s fine now… I’ll have her go back right away, please excuse us.”
Gro used polite language, but from his somewhat careless tone, it seemed Gro didn’t really respect the duke in front of him.
The girl took a deep breath. After glancing at Gro one last time, she trembled as she uttered her farewell:
“I’ll take my leave first, Duke…” At this point, Ileil couldn’t help but emphasize her tone:
“—And Mr. Gro.”
The rain in Renn Town showed no sign of stopping. Thick dark clouds stole the sunlight, enveloping the entire town in shadows.
After leaving the duke’s mansion, Ileil returned to her residence in Renn Town—a camp that Gro had reportedly had someone meticulously repair a year ago.
Snow-piled wilderness, post-war ruins… For Ileil, who was already accustomed to harsh environments, living in a well-equipped camp for nearly two months was a rare comfortable experience.
First, wash off the filth on her body… and check if that contract has any major effects on her body. With such thoughts, Ileil dragged her tired body into the bathroom.
Steaming hot air surged in the small bathroom, condensed water droplets dripping along the wooden board gaps. Ileil shed her rain-and-mud-soaked cloak, removing her tight clothes. She revealed her snow-white skin, sinking her entire body into the oak bathtub.
The steamy mist in the bathroom floated like gauze, enveloping the girl’s slender figure in a haze. Water beads rolled down her silver-white long hair, wet strands sticking to her porcelain-white nape. Amid the swirling fog, the girl’s golden pupils slightly lowered, like melted gold. Hot water rinsed her arms, the fingertips washed of blood still reddened. As if the unavenged hatred remained on Ileil’s skin, unable to be completely cleansed.
This was the eighth year since Ileil’s father died, and also the eighth year since she left her hometown.
Ileil’s hometown was a remote area at the north-south border. It belonged neither to the northern country “Kastit” adjacent to the border, nor to the southern “Aressto.” There was no oppression, no disputes, sparse population, simple folk customs. The local residents warmly accepted Isende and his wife who came from afar.
Ileil should have had a happy childhood. Until Gro shattered the girl’s peaceful life, using civilians’ lives to force Isende to appear, and successfully killed him.
In the steaming mist, she tilted her head back, letting the hot water rinse her face, water droplets on her eyelashes trembling lightly with her breath. Her skin flushed faintly pink under the hot water’s soak, her shoulder and neck lines slender yet with the toughness from long training. Water trails slid down her back, pausing briefly at the dip in her waist, then silently submerging into deeper shadows.
In these eight years, Ileil went from that sunny and cheerful boy to the witch she became due to an accident two years ago. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say she was a completely different person.
Gro allowed the hate-filled Ileil to follow the mercenary group’s pace, and permitted her to try to kill him at any time—provided that Ileil could complete the duties Gro assigned.
Ileil’s duties started from chores, being sent to hunt beasts, gradually escalating to holding weapons on the battlefield, fighting and killing unfamiliar enemies. Ileil truly inherited the “Blade Ghost’s” bloodline. Not only did Ileil survive the cruel battlefield, but with her innate combat talent, she became an elite force under “Black Edge” at a young age.
…
“Am I still not strong enough…”
The girl murmured softly. She looked at her hands full of calluses and scars, recalling the failure she just experienced—she couldn’t help but clench her fists, knuckles whitening from the squeeze. She bit her lip, nails piercing her palm, blood slowly dripping along the finger gaps.
Did Ileil hate Gro for taking her father’s life? Of course, this hatred could be said to be the source of strength supporting the girl to this point.
But now, a stronger emotion surged in her heart. Rather than hating her father’s killer—Ileil despised the incompetent self who repeatedly lost to Gro.
This complex mood should have continued longer, until…
“Really sorry, Ileil. Coming to find you this time is truly unavoidable…” A series of urgent knocks sounded, the man’s voice sounding somewhat muffled through the door.
“What’s the matter, Kaze?” Ileil recognized the voice’s owner; it was her long-time colleague, and one of the few in the mercenary group who had contact with her male self.
Knocking to urge a girl in the bath to do something for him was indeed a bit bad. Ileil sighed lightly. Kaze seemed not to treat Ileil as a woman—in this big fool’s eyes, Ileil was still that capable and taciturn youth.
But compared to Gro who humiliated her with “adopted daughter,” Kaze was much more normal. She preferred others to still see her as a man.
“Things aren’t good…” Kaze tried to make his voice calmer a bit, continuing:
“Those guys really aren’t ordinary people. The ones you took care of earlier, they’ve all come back to life…”