“All right... Do you know how to fire it?”
“Yes, I do.” Myalo slowly walked over to the corner of the room and picked up the rifle. With its long barrel, it looked oversized in the hands of someone as small as her.
“I’ll leave it to you, then.”
Myalo slowly raised the rifle, tensed her elbows, and placed the muzzle against the back of Luida’s head. “Farewell, dear grandmother.”
The moment Myalo put her finger on the trigger, a shiver ran through me like a thousand centipedes were crawling over my body. I grabbed her right hand, which was on the grip of the gun.
“Ah!” Myalo cried.
I tore her right hand away from the trigger, pressed my palm against her chest, pushed her back, and took the firearm. Then, I spun around and quickly took aim. Before Luida could turn to see what was happening, I pulled the trigger with the gun pointed at the base of her skull.
Boom!
There was the sound of gunpowder igniting, then it was as if a heavy object had struck Luida’s head. The old woman’s body collapsed onto the table, and fresh blood spurted from the gaping hole left by the bullet.
“Yuri?! What’ve you done?!”
“It wasn’t right. I couldn’t let you do it.”
There was no way I could’ve let it happen. I didn’t know why I’d even entertained the idea at all. Luida was Myalo’s own flesh and blood. We’d gotten so caught up in the atmosphere Luida had created that we’d ceased to think straight.
“But why...?”
“If you want to be the sort of witch who calmly kills her own family members, then I have no use for you.”
Luida’s aim might’ve been to put her curse on Myalo. I was glad I’d put a stop to it. It felt like I’d just saved her from being burdened by bitterness, or from some sort of bad karma for the rest of her life.
I didn’t want her to spend any more time in this room. The longer she was here, the more it would influence her.
“Tillet, take Myalo outside.”
“All right,” Tillet replied.
“W-Wait! Hold on! We’re not done talking!” Myalo cried as Tillet dragged her away. “Yuri!”
The door closed with a slam.
Now I was left with six witches and one corpse. The only other person remaining was Henrique.
Haaah... What a tiring day.
“Well, this is it. I’m sorry that a family quarrel had to be the last thing you’ll ever see,” I said to the six witches. Even now that I was thinking more clearly, I knew I didn’t owe these women a drop of sympathy. “Burning this house down will be a sign to all witches that their time has come to an end. Some may refuse to accept it, but I doubt there’ll be many.”
I wasn’t about to burn the house down just for the sake of the execution—I wanted to send a message. With this building gone, the witches would know that their world had been utterly destroyed along with it.
“Once we’re done hunting down the remnants of the second order, we’ll let the city’s people come see it for themselves. They’ll know that the history of witches came to an end right here.”
“What’s your point?” Vivila said.
She made me realize that I had nothing to accomplish with this speech. These women were about to die anyway. Let’s just end it.
“Despite what Myalo said, you made the final chapter in witch history something grand. Go to your graves assured that whatever happens, your history will never be forgotten.”
I took my lighter and used it to ignite an oil-soaked cloth, which I stuffed between pieces of firewood at my feet. The flames spread to the dry leaves first, and in no time at all, it grew into a blazing fire.
“If I’d have drunk the wine, I would’ve met my end instead. You were tough opponents.”
Those were my final words before I left the building.
✧✧✧
“This puts an end to it,” Dimitri Daz said. He’d been overseeing this entire operation, and now he stood beside me and watched the small house burn.
As the fire grew, we heard anguished screams from the women who were still alive inside. The flames then spread to the outer walls, becoming an intense blaze as the coating of the cedar bark ignited.
“Yeah. Everything’s going to change.”
“It seems it hasn’t improved your mood, Your Excellency.”
He’d read my feelings. Around me, the soldiers were openly celebrating their joy. We’d captured the enemy’s leaders, and now they were burning in retribution for killing our former ruler and his wife. This was our victory. In one fell swoop, we’d scattered their army and put their commanders to the flame. I could hear the pride in their roars of celebration. But I didn’t share their feelings.
“I thought I’d feel better than I do...”
“Vengeance didn’t satisfy you?”
“No matter how much they suffer, it’ll never bring back my mother or father. Making them feel pain and watching the anguish on their faces was never going to offer any consolation.”
The place in my heart that had once been filled by Rook and Suzuya was now an empty void—it had been since the moment I’d found their bodies in the underground morgue. There was nothing in the pain or the screaming that could fill that hole. I’d thought they might help, but any satisfaction I felt would immediately fall straight through that void, leaving it as empty as before.
“Do you regret taking revenge?”
“I wouldn’t say that. If I’d let them live, I don’t think I could have ever moved on. It had to be done.”
It was hard to find the right words, but the act of vengeance had nothing to do with making myself feel happy or satisfied. I knew it did nothing to fill the emptiness inside me. But despite its fruitlessness, it somehow felt important to throw the lives of my enemies into the void they’d created. For as long as that emptiness existed, the urge to do so would be irresistible.
Vengeance was a thankless endeavor, and yet it was necessary if I were to move on.
At any rate, there was still work to do. The plan had been proposed to the witches by a man from the Papal State. If my suspicions proved correct, that man was Epitaph.
“It’s good for the kingdom too,” Dimitri said. “We’ve purged those who led us into stagnation, clearing the way for a new era. Now we have to make it a good one.”
Whatever Dimitri had in mind, it probably wouldn’t come. Knights were mired in a stagnation all of their own.