“……”

It’s nothing worth listening to. Raymond didn’t say anything back to Duke Luthella, who was making a humorless joke. The old duke also knew that his own words held no worth. Nobody would have believed him anyway. Who would believe any promises he’d give in this kind of situation? Even if the duke was the one who held the upper hand right now and not Raymond, it would not change anything.

“…Why have you come here to do this? Why are you getting involved? Will this bring you honor?”

The duke continued to try and talk himself out of this. Raymond had met many of this kind of noble. They lived their lives as though they were wielding three tongues, and as the moment of their deaths loomed before them, they just did everything they could to try and compromise.

But even if he heard them out, Raymond never changed his demeanor towards them. Because it was all meaningless. Still, he’d give them a little more time.

In his mind, Raymond counted the seconds passing by. Too much had passed.

“Tell me, why did your king send you here specifically? No, was it even the king?”

“I do not know.”

“I definitely bribed him well enough. This is a breach of trust. A peace treaty had been signed not too long ago. A lot of people are thinking that peace will come now. Did Verdic betray me?”

“Are those your final words?”

“Answer me.”

“I do not know.”

Bang—!

Curiously enough, the sound of the gun was muted. Indeed, it’s not a lie that this was a new weapon. The duke collapsed. He spasmed a little. Raymond frowned.

“I got lucky.”

These were Raymond’s ensuing words. He had always been on the side of good fortune. At least, when it came to blood splatters and the procurement of guns. His nerves were constantly taut, and this was the result. He was still alive. If bad luck were to strike him, he knew he’d drop dead. He didn’t know for how long he’d stay lucky, but so far, he still was.

“…Duke, you are—”

—an unlucky man. Raymond was about to say that, but he decided not to. He still managed to live to that ripe old age. Duke Luthella was born a royal and became a duke, living his entire life as one of the main pillars of war. And he had children and grandchildren… even when most of his descendants died at Raymond’s hands. But that was just a case of them being unlucky.

“May I use your water?”

“……”

Raymond didn’t know why he asked that aloud, but he felt compelled to.

“Thank you.”

Brain matter was trickling down from the corpse’s head. Raymond turned to the water faucet that could be found in the duke’s quarters. In any case, there weren’t many people left in this residence who’d be able to use this water.

Shwaa…

It’s quite practical to have a direct line to clean water like this in his room. Neither Raymond nor Countess Elva had such an amenity in their own homes so that they could have access to water right away. For a higher aristocrat, it was very easy to set up something like this.

Raymond washed his face and hair, both of which were dirtied by blood and grime. There was a mirror there.

“…Damn it.”

Raymond bowed his head.

Bang!

CRACK!

The mirror broke. Raymond felt the back of his neck growing hot. A body slid down to the floor.

“E-E-Enemy…!”

He heard a voice shrieking behind him. Raymond picked up a piece of the broken mirror from the floor and— threw it in the direction of the voice. Stab. It reached the target. He only improvised, but it worked. However, he could still hear restrained, heavy breathing behind him.

“……”

A small voice. A young one. A girl. Why was she in the duke’s room? His gun wasn’t loaded. And what he threw hit her. Was she dead? No. He could still hear her breathing.

“H-Huuk…”

The sounds of sobbing. Was she the duke’s child? No, it couldn’t be. At that age, she’d be his granddaughter or great-granddaughter. But it’s strange.

‘Everyone should be dead.’

Raymond continued to look through the curtains until the girl’s crying subsided. Then, there was the sound of her crawling. Slowly. To where he might not be able to see her. Considering her condition, he wouldn’t even need to use his gun. No, it’s better to be more efficient with time.

“……”

“S-Stay away!”

Raymond counted how many more bullets he had for the gun. In any case, he succeeded in putting an end to Duke Luthella. All he had to do now was wait for Zion to catch up. But how long would that take?

“A-AACK!”

Thud!

Raymond hit the girl hard on the back of her head. As she collapsed, her black hair cascaded across the floor. Raymond stepped on one wrist with his foot.

“……”

“Please… please no…”

At most, fourteen? Maybe fifteen years old? It was a young woman. However, she was practically naked. Damn it. Raymond grimaced.

The gun is cheap. All it amounts to is one shot. It’s a sloppy pistol that can be used only for suicide. And if you don’t manage to hit yourself at a vital point, you won’t die. Ah, I can’t believe I’m thinking about this now. No, stop. Just kill her. Don’t think.

“……”

“K-Kill me.”

Damn it. Raymond looked down at the young woman, who was barely even dressed. The urge to cuss rose within him. So she’s a prostitute. Then, Raymond did as she said.

Crack, crack—

She died instantly.

“…God damn it, Duke.”

Raymond took a step towards the body of the duke on the floor. He lay there, dead, his eyes wide open. The back of his head had burst open after Raymond shot him with the gun, and his condition was nothing like the girl’s right now.

He crouched down next to the duke’s corpse, and he closed his own eyes.

“Duke. Duke. Take a look.”

“……”

The corpse remained silent.

“…She said I’m an enemy.”

“……”

“Is this truly supposed to be an honorable war?”

“……”

“What were you thinking when you pointed out that I killed your children and your men?”

“……”

“And yet, goddamn, the last person in your room is a prostitute? Besides that, a girl that’s so evidently young? Duke.”

Raymond resisted the pressing urge to kick the duke’s head. Don’t think. Don’t think about anything. Would anything change if he were to voice his opinions? If Raymond would die, Zion would replace him. If Zion would die, Chelsey would replace him. When Chelsey would die… the military would provide.

The average number of people Raymond could kill by himself was more than ten times that of Zion’s. It’s just more efficient for Raymond to do this. That’s all. And what would change if he’d rebel against the orders he was given? Insubordination would only land him either the death penalty or a dishonorable discharge. What good would that do to Raymond when, all his life, he lived only as a soldier?

“I will not think.”

He repeated this to himself. Raymond stared at the wide-open head of Duke Luthella. His brain—which would have held all kinds of knowledge, despair, ambition—was now no different from the organs of a dead animal.

Raymond closed his eyes. He heard a familiar gait approaching from the distance. Now, Raymond could return.

“Zion.”

“Sir Raymond, you really are something. It’s thanks to you that I could come in safely like this.”

“Don’t compliment me. Compliments would just be the onset to something unfortunate later.”

“You’re being too much, sir.”

Zion entered the room while grumbling under his breath. And when he saw the corpse of Duke Luthella, he smiled broadly.

“Whoa, that old geezer’s finally dead! What a dirty, long life he lived.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

With Raymond’s scolding going through one ear and out the other, Zion started cutting one of Duke Luthella’s hands. It was part of their work. The sound of flesh and bones being hacked echoed inside the room.

As Raymond began to think on his own once more, he felt a little squeamish. Not because of the cruelty of this act, but because the sound reminded him of meat being cut.

“We’ll be having beef for dinner.”

“……”

Perhaps Zion was imagining the same thing. Raymond scowled and helped Zion just to finish the job.

“Oh wait, why’s that girl here?”

Zion asked. Raymond picked up the girl’s body. She’s certainly dead now. She was cold.

“Hoh, I can’t believe he got himself a whore despite everything. This old geezer’s something else, too.”

Raymond laid the girl’s corpse on the duke’s bed. What he’s doing right now was nothing but a self-serving, hypocritical act that wouldn’t help anyone, but he still wanted to do it.

“She looks fairly good-looking though?”

“One more word out of you and you won’t be able to use your throat anymore. If you want to protect your fairly good-looking face, you better shut it.”

The black-haired girl was explicitly dressed in racy clothes. It was uncomfortable to see, so Raymond covered her with a blanket.

“…Ah.”

“What is it?” Zion asked.

“…Seems like she’s not a prostitute.”

Raymond noticed that the girl’s body was exceptionally clean. This child wasn’t a whore. Raymond knew well enough what they looked like, those people who rolled around the floor. And this girl’s features resembled Duke Luthella’s. The man he shot.

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