SWY 90

Whoosh!

With a sharp whoosh, the axe tore through the air toward the bed, and Delos, panicked, scrambled backward just in time. The axe blade, still stained with dark, sticky blood despite being mostly cleaned, struck the space between his thighs.

It had missed severing his genitals by a hair’s breadth. Delos turned pale and spat out a curse.

“F-fuck…”

“What a shame. You could’ve taken it clean off. Lestel, try a bit harder.”

Lestel replied with a smirk, his voice dripping with regret.

“Fat bastard’s surprisingly nimble. I meant to chop it off. But at least the hands that dared to touch your body are still there.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously at the memory of Delos groping Sharhan with lust-filled eyes. The hands that touched Sharhan, the mouth that uttered vile things, the filthy cock he dared to swing around, Lestel had sworn to crush them all. He raised the axe again.

“He’s put on a disgusting amount of weight these past few years, but he used to be considered somewhat skilled on the battlefield. More infamous for being brutal and violent than talented, though. Oh? Don’t tell me you pissed yourself? The mighty Lord Delos?”

Sharhan grinned, pointing at the yellow stain spreading beneath the bed. Face flushing bright red, Delos jumped off in a hurry.

“Fucking ‘Flower of the Red Wolves’!”

“Forget that nasty dick, I should’ve torn your mouth open first.”

The moment the words left Sharhan’s lips, his sword slashed toward Delos’s face. Delos jerked backward to avoid it, but not completely. The blade sliced off the tip of his nose and carved a long gash down his cheek. Blood smeared across his face as he screamed.

“Aaaargh! Sharhan, I’ll make you pay!”

“Try it.”

Sharhan didn’t flinch at Delos writhing and clutching his face. As Delos glared with bloodshot eyes, searching for a way out, he suddenly reached toward the bed.

Lestel’s foot slammed into his massive belly, launching him into the wall. Delos hit it with a thud and crumpled to the floor, retching.

“No hostages.”

He’d clearly intended to use the chained man on the bed to bargain with them, but now all he could do was vomit and curse.

“Leg this way, please.”

At Lestel’s words, the trembling man extended his leg. Lestel struck the chain with his axe, breaking it. The man leapt off the bed and hid behind Sharhan. Lestel’s brows furrowed at the sight.

“I should’ve tied you up like that bastard the moment I saw you and fucked your hole raw until it tore.”

“That’s your problem. You rely on your half-assed skills and your cowardly subordinates, thinking you can get away with anything. You couldn’t even lay a finger on me on the battlefield, so what made you think you could mess with me here? You sick fuck, who said you could grope me like I was yours? Do you know how fucking disgusting that made me feel?!”

Sharhan drove his sword deep into Delos’s thigh.

“Aaaaargh!”

Blood sprayed like a fountain, splattering Sharhan’s face. He wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“Master, Delos’s men have all been subdued.”

Simon’s subordinate stepped into the room. Delos’s face darkened, he’d clearly been hoping someone would come rescue him. Still gripping his bleeding thigh, he looked around desperately, then suddenly bowed his head.

“P-Please. Spare me.”

“Why should I?”

“Y-You’d only dirty your hands killing me. Let me go, and I’ll leave Verden and never return.”

“Right. So you can go to another city and do the same thing?”

“I-I have no more followers–”

“Just die.”

“Please! Spare me!”

Kneeling despite the blood gushing from his leg, Delos begged for his life, groveling like a worm.

But his twitching mouth and glinting eyes gave him away. He was clearly plotting something.

Not that it mattered. Sharhan had no intention of sparing him.

‘Thinking of how Lestel nearly died because of this bastard… I’ll never forgive him.’

Sharhan leaned in close and whispered in Delos’s ear.

“You messing with me? Fine, I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve tried to get in my pants.”

“Y-Yeah. Back in the war too, I flirted with you all the time. But that’s not worth dying over, is it? We have history. Let me go.”

“Sure, trying to bone me isn’t a death sentence. But you threw Lestel into a pit full of moving corpses? Fuck you. You touch me, fine. But Lestel? That’s where I draw the line.”

“W-who’s Lestel?”

“The silver-haired one behind me. You laid a hand on him, and for that, you’re dying by my hand. I don’t care what else you’ve done, but you don’t get to touch him. Go to hell and think about what you’ve done, you filthy bastard.”

As Delos’s gaze darted toward Lestel, Sharhan drove his sword into the man’s gut. The blade sank so deep that its tip poked out the other side before Sharhan pulled it free and straightened up.

Delos gasped, clutching his stomach with both hands, but he couldn’t stop the blood pouring from the gaping wound.

“Sha-Shar…”

“Stubborn bastard.”

Sharhan clicked his tongue and raised his sword again, when Lestel spoke.

“Leave some for me. Get out.”

“What, I’m getting kicked out now?”

Grumbling, Sharhan stepped outside. Still, he figured Lestel deserved his own shot at revenge. He had his own grudge against Delos, after all. The man who had been chained up hurried after Sharhan and looked around anxiously, searching for someone.

“M-my father! Have you seen my father?”

His desperate voice made everyone fall silent, their expressions somber. The man’s face clouded with dread as he read the answer in their silence.

“Y-you didn’t see him? They said nothing would happen to my father if I just did what they said, so I… I…”

He seemed to be saying he’d endured the abuse, believing it would protect his father. Sharhan cursed inwardly. The thought of Delos violating the son while feeding the father to the moving corpses made his anger surge anew.

All of Delos’s men were already dead. The only one barely clinging to life now was Delos himself. Sharhan glanced toward the room he’d just exited.

He was considering going back in to give Delos a truly painful end when a scream tore through the silence. It was raw with suffering, but no one showed an ounce of sympathy.

“Is… is my father dead?”

One of Yuel’s men gave a slow nod, and the man crumpled to the ground.

“We’d been holed up in that house like rats… somehow surviving… just the two of us…”

As he broke into sobs, Lestel emerged. He cast a cold glance at the corpses of Delos’s men, then walked over to Sharhan.

“He’s dead. Let’s go.”

“Can you take him with you?”

Sharhan couldn’t just leave the man behind and turned to Simon’s men for help. They agreed without hesitation.

“You two, take him to the estate on Central Road with Thomas. We have to escort the Master’s group.”

One of Simon’s men and two of Yuel’s subordinates helped the man up, telling him they would take him to where other survivors had gathered. The man, half out of his mind, tried to stand but kept collapsing as his legs gave out beneath him. Eventually, he crawled to a corner and began to vomit. It was clear he wouldn’t be able to move right away.

“You go on ahead. We’ll let him rest a few hours, then take him to Central Road.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope he makes it through and survives to the end.”

Sharhan offered those words to the man, now collapsed beside his own vomit, then turned and headed east with the others, toward the gate. The mansion they’d been held in was visible behind them, but they passed it without stopping and slipped through the gate.

“Do you think Thunder and Lightning are okay?”

Derry asked anxiously.

“We’ll find out if they answer.”

Though Lestel’s tone was flat, concern flickered in his eyes. He pulled out his whistle and blew into it forcefully. As expected, no sound could be heard by human ears.

He repeated the call a few more times, standing still and focusing, hoping to hear hooves in the distance. Simon’s men exchanged puzzled looks, wondering why the group wasn’t moving and what strange thing they were doing.

Just when they were beginning to worry something had happened to the horses in the mountains, a faint sound broke through.

“I-I hear them!”

Derry, who had been tiptoeing and straining to see far ahead, cried out with joy and leapt up. Sure enough, the thunder of galloping hooves grew steadily closer.

“Thunder! Lightning!”

The two horses, hearing their names, came charging toward them at full speed. Even panting hard, they couldn’t contain their joy at being reunited with their masters after days apart.

Sharhan rushed to Lightning and inspected him. Pale smoke curled off their skin, and both horses bore numerous cuts and scrapes. They’d clearly struggled through rough mountain terrain.

“You did good.”

Lightning neighed, trembling as Sharhan stroked his side. Thunder was nuzzling into Lestel’s chest like an affectionate puppy.

“Let’s go.”

Lestel mounted Thunder, and Derry quickly climbed on behind him. Sharhan mounted Lightning.

“Please let Simon know we made it out safely.”

Simon’s men, still dazed by the sudden appearance of the horses, quickly bowed their heads.

“Safe travels.”

Lestel nodded and motioned to Sharhan, it was time to leave. Sharhan nodded in return.

It was time to leave Verden behind.