Chapter 6
W-what the hell!?
The ground shook beneath my feet, and I could no longer stay standing. When I fell on my rear and looked up, all I saw was Lark's back.
I couldn't see her face.
That made me desperately anxious, but there was no time to worry about it. A tremendous, abnormal rumbling unlike anything I had ever experienced threw everyone around us into a panic.
Someone screamed, someone else crouched on the ground, and someone called out the name of God.
"Calm down! You lot, this is—"
The mine chief's shout to stop them was meaningless.
"Ah."
I let out a dazed cry. I knew because I had been looking up at the sky. The blue sky visible through the opening in the cavern—the walls were collapsing and falling. This place was outside the dungeon. It could be destroyed, and it could collapse.
I had no time to shout that it was dangerous or tell anyone to run. Huge rocks rained down, and screams rose from every direction.
And then, I saw it.
"What on earth is this...? Urgh!"
A rock larger than his head struck the duke as he crouched with his hands over his head on the raised platform. The rock shattered even the platform, sending the duke tumbling onto the ground, where he landed spread-eagled. His body, everything above the neck gone, twitched and jerked.
Immediately afterward, I felt something strange happening in my body.
It was as if a violent storm had suddenly begun raging inside me.
"Ah... a, a, a, a..."
A freezing winter.
A night I spent all alone in a shed, without even a blanket.
Lonely. Miserable. Sad. Agonizing. Why? Why me? Why did I have to suffer like this? It hurt. Make it stop. It was painful. I was cold. I hated being alone. Lonely. It hurt. I was cold. Why? Why me? Everyone else... Why only me? It was painful. I hated this. I hated it. I hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it, hated it————————————.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!"
I hated them. My family. They singled me out, threw stones at me, and my siblings took my food away. My father and mother pretended not to see me. "Otherwise, people will think we're your kind because of your black hair and black eyes," they said? I knew the truth about my father, who had tried to kill me countless times. "It's to protect your other siblings," they said? I knew about the time my parents fought over whether I was a child born from an affair, when my father punched my mother and she obsequiously said, "Then I'll kill him with my own hands."
Somehow, I managed not to be killed. I ran to the shed at night. But the wounds I'd received during the day hurt, and I was in agony and wanted to cry. Even worse than all that was the hunger.
So when a traveling merchant came to the village, I volunteered. I said I wanted to sell myself. If I didn't, my parents would eventually kill me.
"Urghhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
I was vomiting. I had thrown up everything I'd eaten earlier. All that remained amid the gastric juices was soup made by stewing rotten meat. The potatoes and carrots had changed color and would normally have been inedible. Even the bread was nothing more than inferior wheat ground carelessly and baked. A blackened lump, burned from overbaking, rolled around in the gastric juices.
Until that very moment, I'd been under an illusion. I'd been eating something worse than livestock feed, calling it "a meal to fill my stomach."
So that's what it was.
It had all been—
"An illusion caused by contract magic..."
The painful memories that had suddenly returned, along with the realization of how wretched our food was, made tears spill from both my eyes. But even through my blurred vision, I could clearly make out the blue—a single bangle-like tattoo encircling a painfully thin white arm.
Everything had been done through contract magic.
To keep slaves from becoming rebellious. Especially to keep criminal slaves from getting strange ideas. To prevent trouble between slaves. It was as if they had hypnotized us, turning us into a herd of sheep, by casting contract magic on us.
But that magic had been dispelled.
Why? It was obvious. The duke—the "owner" of us slaves and the "master" of the contract magic—had died.
Waaah—
A shout went up, and I came to my senses.
About half the slaves were crouched over and vomiting like me, but the other half had already taken action. Each had two tattoos on their arms. They were criminal slaves.
One swift slave knocked down a mine guard, snatched his sword, and without hesitation slit his throat.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I'm free now!"
Ah, wasn't that the man who used to pat me on the head from behind whenever we lined up in the dining hall and laugh, saying, "You're so tiny, kid. Eat more and grow big"...?
And the one over there knocking a mine guard flying was the man who had helped me when I was staggering through the tunnels with a heavy load...
And the one kicking aside a vomiting slave to clear a path was the man who had taught me what to do when I encountered a monster in the tunnels...
The contract magic had been dispelled from everyone at once.
Their hearts must have recovered many memories and emotions as well. There was no longer anything left to bind them.
Of course, their important Skills had probably been removed when they became slaves. Old Man Hinga had said there was a Skill that could equip and remove Skills. Even so, the slaves—especially the criminal slaves—were strong. Far stronger than the mine guards, who might have been trained but had little proficiency.
"Mine guards, suppress the slaves! Hurry up! You can even deploy any adventurers who aren't busy!"
The mine chief was shouting. When I saw his face, I couldn't believe my eyes.
This man—he had always been this ugly, his eyes bloodshot and his face steeped in greed?
Apparently, everything painful and agonizing had been sealed away to make us obedient as slaves. Not only that, but anything that might arouse negative emotions had been shut out.
"Whoa!? H-hey, you! That's—"
"—That was mine to begin with!!"
I heard a familiar voice and turned toward it.
The woman I had thought of as my "older sister," and who had also called me her "little brother," was now holding a rainbow-colored, glowing Skill Orb in her hand.
(That... isn't a good light.)
I felt my skin crawl. The Skill Orb Lark held was indeed rainbow-colored, but instead of the pure beauty I'd felt before, it now gave me the eerie sensation that something unknown was glaring at me.
"Lark, don't—"
My voice didn't reach her.
Lark stretched her slender right hand toward the heavens. The rainbow-colored Skill Orb shone exceptionally brightly, then was sucked into her body.
"This is 【Shadow King★★★★★★】...! This is the power of six stars...!!"
Lark's lips trembled as though she couldn't contain her delight, and laughter escaped her.
But the mine chief wasn't about to stand around and let her do as she pleased.
"Capture her! No, cut off her arms and legs if you have to; just incapacitate her! But don't kill her! Otherwise, we won't be able to extract the Skill Orb!!"
With a shout, the mine guards rushed toward Lark. There was no holding back now. They drew their swords, raised their small shields, and charged.
"Come to me, my magic sword."
When she held out her hand, something black like a crescent moon slid through the air from it.
It caught several mine guards in its path, split their bodies in two right through the torso, destroyed even their shields, and disappeared.
"Aaaaaaaaaaa!?"
The mine chief, who had been watching, recoiled in terror and turned his back on Lark to run. He had been far too close to her.
It wasn't only the mine chief. The mine guards who had been ordered to attack Lark also fled.
"Don't you dare run."
Her hand swept down from above. The black shadow that burst forth split the mine chief vertically in two. His body separated into right and left halves, spraying blood and organs as he died.
Urgh... I was struck by another violent urge to vomit, but I had already thrown up everything earlier, so nothing came out.
"..."
Lark was looking down at me as I sat on the ground.
The light of a torch dropped by a nearby mine guard flickered in Lark's purple eyes.
"Little brother-kun."
What I felt at that moment was fear.
Despite being gaunt, her face was still finely featured. I didn't know whether it was because she had killed someone or because of some other emotion, but sorrow had passed through her eyes.
Help me.
It seemed I heard a voice like that. No, it was only something I'd imagined hearing. Lark hadn't even opened her mouth.
"Can you stand?"
In the hand she held out, I saw a tiny flicker of black shadow.
"Eek."
Seeing me instinctively recoil, Lark realized what had happened and quickly pulled her hand back.
"..."
Lark was looking into my eyes. I wanted to look at her face, too. But I couldn't.
At last, Lark abruptly looked away and said,
"...I'll clear a path. You get away, too."
She left at a half-run, leaving those words behind.
"Ah..."
I knew I had to say something to her retreating back. It wasn't just one thing. There had to be ten things, or a hundred, that I should have said.
And yet I couldn't say anything. Was it because I felt guilty for rejecting her outstretched hand? Because I couldn't take the hand of a murderer? Because I thought she might kill me, too?
"Goodbye, little brother-kun—"
I was an idiot. I had refused to take her hand.
Even though I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life, I still couldn't make a sound.