Martha hailed from a rural town in Rohan, known for producing high-quality grapes.
Her beauty was quite renowned in the area, and the townspeople even speculated that she might soon become the mistress of a lord and live a life of opulence. That was, until a band of bandits transformed her village into a desolate wasteland.
Martha became the woman of Jerome, the leader of the band of bandits.
Though she was unexpectedly forced into a marriage she hadn’t chosen, she soon adapted to her new life. Whether laboring under the hot sun in the lord’s vineyard or living as the wife of the gang’s leader, there wasn’t much difference in the hardship she had to endure.
Jerome, despite sometimes losing his temper and resorting to violence, generally cared for the beautiful Martha. However, another misfortune soon struck her. At a time when she was heavily pregnant, she was punched in the abdomen by a drunken Jerome. She collapsed, vomiting blood. She regained consciousness only a day later, but by then she had already miscarried.
Seeing her sitting in the cabin in a daze, Jerome awkwardly watched her. Not long after, he brought her a baby wrapped in a small blanket and dropped it in front of her. It was a handsome baby boy with soft red hair and obsidian-like black eyes.
Martha could never forget the moment her eyes first met the baby’s.
The infant, swaddled in the blanket, stared at her without crying. His black eyes, deep and dark like they could reflect no light, seemed to consume the reflection of her own sorrowful state, even seeming to suck away her soul.
It was terrifying. So very terrifying.
Martha felt an immediate impulse to throw the baby away, but a vague fear that the child would retaliate somehow left her paralyzed.
“He’s… beautiful,” she managed to say, tears streaming down her face as she smiled. Jerome, failing to realize that her tears were born of fear, not joy, looked pleased.
The baby, named Kaien, grew rapidly.
The few women in the village envied Martha as they touched the pretty face of the child, who looked like a porcelain doll. Jerome, too, was satisfied with the quiet child who hardly cried.
The only one who felt uneasy was Martha, who spent most of her time near the child.
Whenever she couldn’t feed him on time or catch him when he stumbled while playing, his black eyes would gaze at her emotionlessly, causing her heart to clench with extreme fear.
Whenever a drunken Jerome raised his hand towards Kaien, Martha would throw herself in front of the child, desperately trying to shield him from the blows. The fear of something terrible happening to her from the child if she failed to protect him filled her with baseless anxiety.
Was she going mad? She often questioned her sanity whenever she saw the innocent face of the sleeping child.
Was it because he wasn’t her biological child that she couldn’t love him enough? She wondered if she was unjustly hating and fearing the intelligent and observant Kaien, who had taken the place of her unborn baby.
However, her anxiety soon turned into reality.
One day, while she was away doing laundry with the other women, Jerome, who had returned home early and sober for once, unexpectedly struck the child. That day, Kaien was thrown against the hut’s wall, severely twisting his left knee. Despite the severe injury, which made it impossible for him to walk properly again, Kaien silently stared at Martha as soon as he opened his eyes. His gaze was chilling to the bone.
The next day, a drunken Jerome came home and began to severely beat Martha. It was an unprecedented level of violence. Although his subordinates and the neighboring women eventually pulled him off her, Martha’s left elbow was completely ruined that day.
It could have been a coincidence. But when she opened her swollen eyes, Martha came face-to-face with Kaien, who was smiling at her for the first time.
* * *
“I wonder how much he has figured out, huh, Mom?” Martha repeated Kaien’s words in a daze.
“I thought that if I sent off an attractive lure, he’d naturally start searching from familiar places. What did I miss? Maybe I should have just left Dad alone as he suggested yesterday?”
Staggering. The path up the cliff was treacherous.
“But if he dies too soon, won’t the suspicious Dad unnecessarily start poking around elsewhere? Killing Aslan so easily made me feel nauseous. So, I wanted to buy a day more, but I guess I was too greedy.”
Tears flowed down her cheeks uncontrollably. Regardless of Martha’s will, her feet faithfully moved towards the edge of the cliff.
“That’s why I need you, Mom. If you do this right, everything will be resolved.”
She had imagined that her difficult life would someday end, but never in this way…
“I guess you were useful at least once, Mom.”
Remembering Kaien’s face, smiling at her for the second time, was the last thing she did before her foot hit the edge of the cliff.
* * *
Bang.
Startled by the brusque opening of the door and the rough men barging in, Aslan, who had been dozing against the wall, quickly got up. Bart was already standing, watching the intruders.
Before he could even ask what was happening, one of them commanded with a stern face.
“Get ready. Someone fell off the cliff.”
Fell off the cliff? The tall cliff to the west?
That couldn’t possibly end well.
That was what Aslan thought, but the intensity in the atmosphere from the men who pushed their way in was far from normal. It seemed that the fallen one was quite important.
Quickly gathering a few trauma medicines, painkillers, and bandages, he headed out of the hut with Bart.
When they arrived at the bottom of the cliff, quite a number of people had already gathered around.
Before he even got to the patient, Aslan realized the person was beyond saving. The patient, whose limbs were twisted in all directions, lay immersed in a pool of their own blood. The smell of blood filled the air.
Only when he got closer did he recognize the person was Martha. Jerome, with his stern face, was quietly looking down at her who was laying there in such a horrific state.
Feeling the silent pressure, Aslan hurried to Martha’s side and knelt down.
But no matter how hard he thought, there was nothing he could do. Her skull was shattered as if it had been crushed, she was still breathing, but it didn’t seem like she would last long. Her pupils, already out of focus, were flickering randomly.
Bart, who had quietly come up next to him, handed him a small pouch from the herbs he had brought.
After looking at Bart’s face once, Aslan took the pouch, struck the flint, and a small flame caught. The pouch filled with medicinal herbs began to burn slowly, emitting a heavy medicinal scent.
“…What is that?”
At Jerome’s stifled voice, Aslan answered, “It’s a herb with analgesic effects. It will help relieve the pain.”
“…..”
And they silently stayed by her side.
After some time, her breath completely stopped and her pupils dilated. Jerome closed Martha’s eyes with his own hands and kept his hand on her eyes for a long time without saying anything. When he finally opened his mouth, his voice was utterly somber.
“…Who found her?”
“Hans from the search team. He was off duty today and was chopping wood…”
“Lock him up in the barn.”
There was a gasp from the men. Hans, who was pale, rushed to Jerome and fell to his knees, trembling.
“Boss, I-I alerted everyone as soon as I found her! Why am I…”
“Then tell me, who pushed Martha off the cliff.”
“…What?”
Ignoring the stunned Hans, Jerome spoke coldly, “If no one pushed her, then you’re the culprit.”
“That can’t…”
“What the hell are you doing?”
He slowly stood up and scanned his men. Some of them, noticing his rage as if he was ready to kill someone, held Hans, still in shock, and hesitantly backed away. Jerome, who had been glaring at them, then looked down at Aslan, who was sitting by Martha’s side. His gaze was so fierce that Aslan froze like a mouse in front of a snake.
“So-called healers are utterly useless.”
Spitting out his words as if he was chewing them, Jerome turned and left his spot.
Those left at the bottom of the cliff were all at a loss, simply staring at each other’s faces. Regardless of the truth of the accident, they were now unable to predict where the wrath of that filthy-tempered leader would strike next.
Aslan was also slowly pondering Jerome’s last words, when suddenly the sound of someone weakly collapsing onto the ground echoed. It was Kaien. The boy was trembling all over, his face pale as if he had seen a ghost.
But considering his state in the face of his mother’s death, Aslan simply thought, ‘so that human waste did have a human side.’ However, he soon realized that wasn’t it. Kaien’s gaze wasn’t directed at Martha, but somewhere else.
More specifically, standing next to Aslan…
“Bart?”
Bart and Kaien were looking at each other.
When Aslan unintentionally glanced at him, he was so shocked that he momentarily held his breath. Bart’s face was always cold, but now it looked utterly impassive. Yet, a fit of intense anger was vividly conveyed by him. Compared to Jerome’s bravado, Bart’s wrath brought a terrifying pressure that was on another level.
Perhaps it was due to his cold eyes. In those eyes, which reflected the afternoon sunlight in a peculiar silver light, lay a chilly coldness that seemed to freeze anyone just by being seen from the side. It was no wonder that Kaien, being on the receiving end of such a gaze, reacted the way he did.
After glaring at Kaien for a while with his sharp, blade-like eyes, Bart finally opened his mouth. His calm voice carried a supremely restrained rage, making Aslan shudder involuntarily.
“Was it your doing that the souls in the mountains ended up like this?”
“You… who are you…?”
“I thought I’d observe a little longer to see what kind of mishap would interfere and cause such actions, but this is ridiculous. What were you consuming? Do you understand the meaning of it?”
Consuming? What?
Confused by the nonsense, Aslan looked puzzled, but Kaien seemed to understand. His eyes widened in surprise, the whites glaringly evident, making him appear almost frightened.
“What, what… How do you…!”
Kaien began to retreat, sweating and faltering, still sitting down.
At that point, a few of the bandits finally noticed the odd atmosphere and intervened. They were the pillaging fellows who had been watching Aslan since morning. Rolling up their sleeves, they narrowed their encirclement with grim expressions. However, now that most of the bandits had left with Jerome, the remaining bandits, aside from the few looters, seemed confused about what to do with Aslan and Bart.
In the meantime, a wobbling Kaien managed to stand up and started to hobble away.
Now was their only chance. Aslan thought. Given Jerome’s last mood, it didn’t seem like he intended to keep Aslan and Bart safe any longer. And it seemed Bart was thinking the same way.
“Prepare yourself, Aslan. We have to leave this place now.”
Thud. In an instant, Bart swung his arm and punched the guy standing right in front. No, it wasn’t a punch… The guy’s forehead was indented in the shape of a handcuff.
“…!”
“That bastard!”
“Kill him!”
The encircling bandits attacked all at once. And in no time, they were all knocked down by Bart, groaning on the ground.
Thud, thump.
It was truly a splendid blow.
It was hard to believe that a frail-looking man could knock down the bandits so effortlessly. He merely dodged the punches raining down like a storm, and sent a punch… no, a handcuff to their vital points along the shortest path.
What was surprising was that Bart did not seem to be using any aura at all. He was truly only swinging the heavy handcuffs and chains efficiently, smashing the bandits’ heads. Soon, there were no bandits left standing at the bottom of the cliff. All were left with the mark of handcuffs imprinted on their heads like a stamp.
The power of the handcuffs, which could easily crush wrists, was indeed tremendous. Even Bart, the user, seemed surprised at the destructive power. He stared at his own wrist for a moment, then murmured in admiration.
“I thought it was just a bad joke, but this friend is much more prepared than I thought.”
No, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I don’t think that’s it, Bart.
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