Chapitre 17: First Blood
"Hey…what's your name?" He asked quietly.
The girl was hugging her knees, leaning against the right wall, while he was chained up to the back.
"...Irene…"
He felt terrible. The fact was, she stood up for him despite herself being covered in bruises. Such a sight made him clench his fists, but he hardly felt like he could even justify being angry after such a cowardly act.
"I'm Emilio…How long have you been here?" He asked weakly.
"Two weeks…"
"I see…" He replied quietly, "We're going to get out of here, Irene…"
"--" She looked up at him.
The girl had the eyes of a beaten dog; they were hollow of hope, quivering at the sight of nothing as she looked at him with her hazel irises.
"Once whatever this drug they gave me wears off…I'll break us out, okay?" He said quietly.
"--"
"Irene?"
"...Okay…" She accepted with a small nod.
He understood her reluctance; he felt it himself to a degree. The fear of trying to escape and failing loomed over his timid heart. Experiencing the savagery of their captors, he knew that if he tried it again and didn't succeed this time, he'd suffer pain greater than he'd ever felt before.
"—"
Deprived of a meal the past however long, his stomach growled out in contention. Though he didn't dare ask for any handouts from the cruel men.
An hour passed of sitting there idly as his wrists became sore and irritated; red at the touch of the grimy chains that held them. With only the sounds of water slowly dripping to fill his ears as he sat in silence, unknowing if at any moment those men would step in to lash out again, he looked towards the girl.
"…Are you from around here? Assuming we're actually around Yullim…" He asked the girl quietly.
The girl sat there for a moment, looking at him before silently shaking her head. It seemed she wasn't in a talkative mood, but he couldn't blame her.
She's not…? She does look different from the locals. I don't really know how to place it, though, he thought.
With hours passing, he grew tired, but sleeping was not an option in this scenario.
I'll have one more shot at this. If I fail, I don't know what will happen to me, but it won't be good, he thought.
Finally, the door opened once again.
This time, it was the rat-faced abductor who had two shortswords sheathed at his sides. But, he wasn't walking towards him, but the young girl.
"It's time to go, little lady. We've found a buyer who's interested in ya'," the buck-toothed man said.
"--"
The girl was quiet and didn't resist at all as the man undid her bindings, grabbing her by the arm as he began to drag her off.
"--!"
He, on the other hand, felt a surge of desperation flood through his body. Irene looked back at him with those empty eyes as he began tugging away at his bindings, continuously trying to invoke his magic that was quelled by the drug in his system.
"No…!"
Something like this…it's not right! I lived my whole life being helpless, suffering by myself–I know how it feels, better than anybody else! He thought.
With the meager strength he possessed, mitigated by the exhaustion of his body and the loss of blood, he stood no hope of breaking the metal chains around his chains, but he continued pulling nonetheless.
"Ngh…!"
Mustering all of his strength, he pulled and he pulled, feeling the gritty metal pull on the skin of his wrists harshly, peeling into it as he ignored the pain.
The rat-faced man and the girl had already long since left the room, but he stomped forward, finally pushing forward with all of his strength in his unorthodox stance until–SQUELCH.
"Ghh-!"
He fell forward as he managed to rip his hands away from the tight cuffs, looking at his hands to find the skin of his wrists flayed, leaking blood onto the grimy stone. His thumbs had turned purple from being crushed by the tightness of the metal cuffs, but he stood himself up, using the adrenaline in his body to ignore the pain.
Flowing within his body, he could still feel the Mage-Killer drug suppressing his magical abilities as he quietly moved forward, opening the door, which was surprisingly unlocked.
"--"
"Aaack…"
As he quietly left his chamber, he stepped into the dimly lit corridor, kept with some light only by two torches sitting on the overgrowth-laden walls.
"Aaaack…"
Looking to the left, he found the snoring to come from the man sitting in a chair beside the door, soundly asleep. He didn't recognize the man, which wasn't a good sign–this clearly meant there were more than just the three he had seen.
He started to tiptoe past the slumbering bandit, but stopped as he noticed the weapon sheathed in the man's belt.
"--"
Reaching towards the ragged handle, he kept his eyes locked onto the bushy-bearded man who snored like a bear.
As soon as he managed to grip the handle of the weapon, he slowly unsheathed it, drawing a shortsword that was luckily something he could wield.
Just as he held it, the snoring stopped as the man's eyes opened–
"Wha…? Hey!"
Before the bearded man could stand up, he moved out of fright, instinctively thrusting the blade forward.
Squelch.
"--"
His eyes were wide as he looked forward; the blade piercing right into the man's chest, likely nicking his heart in the process as his beige tunic became dyed in scarlet quickly.
He stood there silently in shock for a moment, breathing heavily as he finally withdrew the blade just as the man fell forward, dead on the ground.
As the sound of blood trickling into a puddle met his ears, it was cemented into his mind what he had just done.
I killed him…? He thought.
It was his first time taking a life. Though he would normally try to ration that this was simply an artificial world, he knew that didn't apply. Somehow, the people of this world were hardly artificial; it was just as real as the life he lived before.
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone