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Two knights brought a single condemned prisoner in front of me.

I suppressed my heart, which felt like it was about to burst.

The approaching knights looked at my face.

Perhaps because of my earlier remarks, these adults looked down on me, barely hiding their disgust.

I tried to ignore their hostility.

It was a somewhat familiar reaction.

So, to counter their animosity, I nodded and pointed to the execution stand.

The knights made the man kneel before it.

“…Huh…”

Looking at the fallen prisoner, I let out a sigh that no one could hear through my slightly parted lips.

Then I removed the sack covering his head.

The agitated prisoner was gagged with a cloth, breathing heavily.

This was the demeanor of someone who realized that death was drawing near.

His vibrant reaction sent a shiver through my hand.

I unconsciously swallowed my saliva and glanced around.

Everyone from the Rondore family was watching my every movement.

It felt like they were simply monitoring whether I was scared or not.

There was no way back now.

From a distance, Scholar Krellyn approached and showed me a document.

An execution order.

The name and crimes of the prisoner were written on it.

At the bottom of the document was the seal of the Rondore family.

It was the seal that Vivian had pressed.

“…”

Seeing that document, my scattered thoughts began to come back together.

Vivian had already done her part.

I still remembered her trembling at the thought of killing someone.

I couldn’t let her be so troubled, so I had even held her slender arm.

But I couldn’t stop here.

I placed the document on the ground.

And with both hands, I gripped the two-handed sword tightly.

I took a deep breath and announced loudly.

“This criminal has forsaken the duties of humanity, committing the crime of threatening three women, disturbing the community with pillaging, rape, and violence, and instilling fear. Thus, under the name of the lord of Roktana, the head of the Rondore family, and Vivian Rondore, I, the eldest son of the Allen family, Kyle Allen, hereby sentence you to death.”

This formality was my best effort to ease my conscience.

Listening to his crimes made it clear that he was a man who deserved to die. But was it really okay for me to judge him?

I wasn’t connected to this man. I didn’t have any feelings for him.

I didn’t despise him enough to cut off his head.

So this execution felt challenging.

Still, I couldn’t stop.

-Swish.

I untied the cloth gag from his mouth.

The man, drooling like an animal, looked up at me.

I asked him.

“…Criminal Derion. Do you have any last words?”

“I-I won’t do it again! P-Please have mercy…”

“…”

Seeing the trembling man.

I gritted my teeth and looked up at Vivian.

“…”

She was swallowing her fear, just like I was, if not more.

We couldn’t talk, but we both felt it.

No one here was responsible for this man’s life.

Only Vivian and I bore that burden.

Vivian was also squeezing out her courage. I could tell just by how she looked at me.

Her trembling hands were gripping the chair tightly.

But it wasn’t enough.

…Don’t look away.

I whispered that to her.

It was for my sake.

If she looked at me, it felt like I could accomplish this.

I saw her eyes widen slightly.

“Huh…!”

I took a short breath and steadied my mind.

I pushed away my emotions for a moment and focused only on what I had to do.

I raised my two-handed sword high.

“Huff!”

Then I swung the sword.

****

‘Next!’

The execution area grew increasingly quiet.

Before the execution began, the crowd that had boiled over from Kyle Allen’s provocations was now chilling towards what he showed.

Anyone would have reacted this way.

A fifteen-year-old boy, just stepping into his growth phase, ruthlessly cutting off someone’s head was nothing short of bizarre.

Baelor felt the same.

Initially annoyed and quietly angry with Kyle Allen, now he couldn’t maintain those emotions.

With complicated eyes, he watched his actions.

Even his aide Todd seemed to have fallen silent.

No one in the courtyard dared to mock Kyle Allen anymore.

Baelor thought that if Kyle did well, he might be able to execute at least one person.

No matter how much a fifteen-year-old kid junked his mouth, in the end, it was just bravado. He couldn’t execute twenty people without having killed anyone before.

Most knights probably thought the same.

If Kyle experienced the reality of execution even once, he would come to his senses.

Necks didn’t come off as easily as one might think, and a gruesome sensation followed.

And when he couldn’t kill someone with a single swing, the screams of the condemned were more chilling than one could imagine.

Kyle Allen would probably realize this and recant his words, giving up the execution.

It would be a relief if he didn’t vomit after seeing the severed neck and smelling that death.

He anticipated Kyle Allen’s ugly shivering.

But Kyle Allen didn’t show any of that expected reaction.

Maybe he did at first.

Now, he was completely indistinguishable from a human butcher.

Regardless of the condemned begging for mercy and struggling, he swung his sword coldly.

Without hesitation, he severed the necks of those unrelated to him.

Covered in blood, he didn’t flinch even when the dead prisoners soiled themselves.

Baelor continued to observe Kyle Allen.

He watched as Kyle raised his blood-drenched two-handed sword onto his shoulder.

The twelfth headless corpse was dragged out of the execution area.

Kyle Allen looked at Baelor and spoke.

“Next.”

“…”

Baelor swallowed hard.

A shiver crawled up his arm.

This was bizarre. There was no other way to describe it.

One’s nature doesn’t change. That was Baelor’s belief.

…And now, looking at Kyle Allen, he felt like he was facing a small dragon.

The knights of the 1st Knight Order brought out the next prisoner.

Kyle Allen turned his body again to prepare for the execution.

Todd whispered to Baelor beside him.

“That kid… Is he insane?”

“…”

“…Is this really the first time he’s killed someone?”

Baelor had killed his first person at 23.

Fifteen years ago, but he couldn’t forget that moment.

It was an experience from a minor skirmish with the East Kingdom.

He had killed an enemy soldier, but the guilt of having taken a life made him unable to wield a sword properly for several days.

Now, he had become accustomed to it, but definitely not back then.

But what was this kid doing?

He wasn’t just going to kill one person and give up; he was about to execute twenty in a single day.

He showed no sign of fear.

Cold eyes. A resolute demeanor. Movements without hesitation.

What kind of monster was being forged in the Allen family?

He had heard rumors once.

That the eldest son of the Allen family showed exceptional talent with the sword.

The retainers of the Allen family were eager to praise him.

They even said he could rival Lois Rondore.

…But now he understood.

He was more than Lois Rondore.

What would happen if such a monster grew up?

People from the north grow larger in stature.

If this not-so-big boy is acting like this now, later he could certainly… become even more renowned than the undefeated knight, Jade Allen.

Kyle Allen was different. He was strong. You could see his temperament. The son of a dreadful undefeated knight, but at times he seemed remarkably impressive.

Baelor’s feelings grew complicated.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Kyle Allen.

…

Vivian also looked down at Kyle Allen without a word.

Covered in the splatter of blood, he was catching his breath.

He had become the executioner due to her choice.

He was doing as he said.

‘I can kill. If it’s my duty.’

He was fulfilling his role. He wasn’t hesitating. He wasn’t trembling.

‘I told you I would show you that you’re the weak one. You have to carry the same burden, or you won’t be able to make excuses later.’

And the more he did that, the more overwhelmed Baelor felt by his strength.

It became clear who was strong and who was weak merely by their actions.

Even the retainers who had once barely acknowledged Vivian were now surprised by Kyle Allen.

Behind Vivian, the treasurer Brinden whispered to the spy Nesto.

“…He seemed hesitant at first, but… I guess that was my mistake.”

The spy Nesto was a tall man, entering his early thirties.

With slit eyes, he was known for his penchant for uncovering secrets, a man that everyone avoided.

Nesto nodded at Brinden’s words.

“…With his actions, no one would believe that today was his first time killing.”

Lady Linne also whispered from the back.

“…His savage nature doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.”

“Brutality alone doesn’t explain the spectacle.” Nesto replied.

As Nesto said, the term ‘brutality’ was insufficient to describe his actions.

On the contrary, the way he justly declared the crimes before the execution and listened to the last words felt distant from mere savagery.

But Nesto rubbed his chin with his long fingers and spoke as if he knew everything.

“I’ve seen many people, and that boy seems to be lacking in character.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lady Linne expressed her curiosity.

“There are a few of them. People who cannot empathize with others’ feelings. They don’t feel guilt in killing, nor do they hesitate. Perhaps it could be called demonic.”

Nesto’s voice was filled with revulsion as if he were discussing something filthy.

“So, that blunt and decisive movement is achieved, right? Think about it. Would it even make sense for a fifteen-year-old boy to cut a neck without hesitation like that?”

“…That indeed doesn’t make sense.”

“He shows no resistance when it comes to killing. He likely has many memories of killing animals cruelly in his childhood.”

“I see. So, that’s the nature of people from the north?”

“That might be true, but Kyle Allen is among the monsters of the north. Look at the people in the courtyard. Their expressions are filled with shock.”

Vivian, upon hearing that, scanned the crowd.

Some maids had turned pale, while others wore contorted expressions.

There were those cursing and those who seemed to cower in fear at Kyle Allen’s actions.

It was certainly the face of a person facing a monster.

It was somewhat understandable.

After arguing with over a hundred people in enemy territory, he was hardly typical for slitting someone’s throat as if it were cutting fruit.

Vivian then looked back at Kyle Allen.

Covered in blood, he was taking a breath.

…A person who does not understand others’ emotions?

…One who feels no guilt in killing?

…A monster?

“…”

Vivian recalled the moment when Kyle Allen had held her trembling arm.

She also remembered him candidly admitting his fear of carrying out an execution.

Vivian disliked Kyle, but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe Nesto’s words blindly.

He wasn’t the monster everyone claimed him to be.

In doing what he was doing, he was just another scared human being, feeling fear in killing.

He simply had the determination and courage to do so that could fool the adults.

He had to act despite being frightened to avoid being disregarded by the grown-ups.

…As he had said, at least Kyle Allen was not disregarded.

Every time he executed someone, you could see how he looked up, making it clear he was no different from anyone else.

For some reason, he felt like he was summoning the courage to kill as he looked at her.

He was pulling the strength to kill while looking at her, determined to prove that she was the weak one.

In the courtyard, the invisible exchange of strange emotions between Kyle and Vivian continued.

Among all these people, no one seemed to understand Kyle’s true feelings better than he did.

He was afraid. He didn’t want to do it. Yet he was doing it.

“…”

With each execution, half of the burden that had settled in Vivian’s heart was taken by him.

He might say it was to overcome himself, but in reality, he was undeniably providing her with help.

Vivian still hated Kyle Allen.

She wished he would roll in endless agony.

…But at least on this day, she thought he had suffered enough.

She wanted to send him back now.

Seeing him keep fighting was exhausting.

****

“Haa… Haa…”

I looked down at my hands.

I was drenched in blood after severing nineteen necks.

The dried blood was clinging to the hilt of my sword.

But that was just about it now.

Only one person remained.

The knights brought out the last prisoner.

I instantly noticed the petite frame of this prisoner.

The final prisoner was not a male; she was a female.

-Thud!

The knights similarly made her kneel.

It didn’t seem difficult to secure her to the execution stand, unlike the other men.

‘Knights are supposed to protect women and children.’

My father’s voice echoed in my head.

“…”

But this was it. Just one more cut, and it would be over.

I could lift the burden from Vivian Rondore too.

Listening to this woman’s crimes would make the execution easier.

I checked the document brought by Scholar Krellyn.

Crimes.

Witch.

“…”

For a moment, my heart felt frozen.

-Snap!

Meanwhile, the knights removed the sack that had covered the last prisoner’s head.

The face of someone I couldn’t forget appeared before me.

“…Ah.”

It was the old woman who had cursed me on the day I arrived in Roktana.

She had said I would live a short life, that I wouldn’t bear a child, and if I did, it would be a deformed one, and then…

‘You will fall in love with someone you shouldn’t.’

She was the one who had said that.

As I froze, the crowd seemed puzzled as the murmurs grew.

Their eyes urged me forward.

“…This criminal is a witch.”

I spoke as if pushed along.

“Thus, under the name of the lord of Roktana, the head of the Rondore family, and Vivian Rondore, I, the eldest son of the Allen family, Kyle Allen, hereby sentence you to death.”

I spoke slowly, feeling strangely heavy-handed as I untied her cloth gag.

She, with her face pressed against the blood-soaked execution stand, looked at me and smiled.

“It’s been a long time, Kyle Allen.”

“…”

Her mouth smiled, but the hatred in her eyes was vivid.

The old woman whispered.

“Looking at your surroundings and seeing your face up close… I want for nothing more. You’re already living in hell.”

I swallowed hard.

Despite my efforts, the two-handed sword kept slipping from my hands.

Her crime was witchcraft.

When she cursed me, she had said that.

‘I’m not a witch, but if I had such power… If I truly were the witch they said I was…’

A being that confesses to being a witch had no chance of escaping execution.

Consequently, this was how she would die, just to gift me a bit of discomfort.

Unintentionally, I asked.

“…Were you really a witch?”

The old woman only chuckled.

“You should hope so.”

I realized I could no longer converse with her.

Straightening my posture, I gripped the sword.

“…Any last words?”

“I hope my curse comes true.”

But perhaps because this was the final execution, I felt my strength waning, unable to raise the two-handed sword.

No amount of breath would change that.

I turned my head and glanced at Vivian.

“…”

“…”

She was looking at me.

While everyone else was focused on the prisoner, watching their necks get severed… she was the only one watching me. Only her eyes were fixed on me.

I looked back down at the old woman.

This time, raising my sword felt possible.

“…Huff!”

-Thud!

The last neck was severed.

…

Execution complete, I stood quietly in front of the execution stand as I caught my breath.

I had taken twenty lives.

In just one day, I had killed twenty people.

A dazed and surreal feeling enveloped me.

Why was I doing this?

What was it that led me to kill twenty people?

As the crowd began to disperse and returned to their errands, I merely stood there.

Some even called me a monster as they left.

Others shouted that I was a barbaric northerner.

At that moment, their words didn’t enter my ears.

There was a far more complex battle raging within me.

At that point, someone slowly walked up to me.

As her red hair waved, my senses started to return.

“…”

Vivian Rondore.

For some reason, I immediately averted my gaze.

I didn’t want to see her expression.

On the other hand, I clearly saw the distasteful expressions from her retainers behind her.

“You should keep your distance from monsters.”

A man behind Vivian advised. It was Nesto, the spy from Rondore.

Lady Linne fanned herself.

“…The stench of blood is overwhelming.”

Treasurer Brinden shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“A northerner is indeed a northerner.”

…Today, that sentiment hurt a little.

Perhaps it was because I had killed, but my emotions were stirred more than usual.

I felt accused of the deeds I had done.

“…”

And when I felt this exhausted, I also longed for my parents’ embrace.

I was trying, but it seemed I was far from becoming an adult.

What would my mother say if she saw me, a murderer?

Would she still love me as her eldest son, reassuring me?

Or would she scold me for killing in vengeance?

Suddenly, my actions felt foolish.

It felt like I wasn’t in my right mind. The curse must’ve truly affected me.

Why was I doing this for Vivian? I questioned myself.

I was so pathetic that I suddenly felt like crying.

I didn’t want to show this side of me to Vivian.

It would be the most embarrassing thing if I cried in front of her.

I had told her not to cry; I couldn’t do that in front of her.

So I prepared to shake off my arms and leave.

I figured lying in my bed for a while would help me recover.

Moreover, if Vivian looked at me with the same disgust as her retainers…

…It might not be the same as before, but if it was like that even now, I felt it would be… tough.

-Tap.

But before I knew it, Vivian had grabbed my arm.

I jumped, pulling my arm away.

Her hand was stained with thick blood.

“…What’s this?”

Frightened, I still didn’t look at her face.

I just awaited her reply.

But she didn’t respond for a long time.

I couldn’t understand why she was stopping me.

I didn’t have any leisure left.

The more exhausted I became, the more my irritation surged.

I had done enough for her, and now I wanted to go back.

At this moment, I had no strength left to argue with Vivian.

So I felt like I was about to tell her to let me go.

“…-Are you okay?”

…Until she whispered that.

In her voice, I stood frozen.

It was then that I could check her expression.

It wasn’t the angry or teary face she usually showed me.

It was more blank, her eyes seemingly droopier than usual… possibly a worried expression.

In a fleeting moment, an emotion passed by her.]

It was an unexpected expression. At least it didn’t feel like she saw me as a monster.

“……. ”

When everyone saw me as a monster, did I ever think that she would not?

Hoping to hear that phrase again, I stood there quietly.

Realizing she hadn’t seen me as I hadn’t heard her, Vivian began to move her lips.

But she just turned around.

As if she didn’t want to ask again.

Similarly, the others, Lady Linne, Brinden, and Nesto, who must have missed her words, showed confusion as they followed her.

I looked at my arm.

I stared at the spot where Vivian had briefly held my arm.

…Was she asking if I was okay?

That Vivian?

“…Ha.”

A hollow laugh escaped from my mouth.

It was absurd.

It wasn’t that Vivian’s actions were ridiculous; it was that I couldn’t grasp my own state.

The tightly clenched fists relaxed.

The strength seeped away from my legs.

The tension began to melt away.

The agonizing guilt that had weighed on my chest felt lighter.

Vivian’s brief touch and her single word of concern… washed away some of my pain.

I began to understand why I had been doing this.

 

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