Chapter 36 : The Children Are Not to Blame

Everything was burning.

Houses, streets, the entire village.

Choking smoke poured into the air as roofs collapsed and walls crumbled.

Everywhere I looked, blood and flesh were scattered, mingled with endless cries of agony.

From every corner came shrieks carried on the flames.

Hell itself had unfolded before my eyes.

It wasn’t hard to find who had set the fires.

They wore matching, roomy garments, each bearing a bold character on the chest—盟.

Armed with blades and spears, they stormed through the chaos, stabbing down men, women, children, and the elderly without distinction, cutting down anyone who cried for mercy.

At times they looted, stuffing treasures into their clothes. At others, they grabbed young women by the hair and dragged them off, ignoring their screams.

Some even chuckled as they listened to the cries, as though the misery was a song worth savoring. To prolong the “melody,” they carved needless wounds into their victims.

It was a scene drenched in horror.

I stood in the middle of the main road, watching as both sides of the street blazed like a gate to hell. There, I noticed a small child.

His face I could not see clearly, but his clenched fists dripped blood.

Then, from farther down the road, shouting broke out.

The marauders had spotted us. They pointed in this direction and spurred their horses.

The child glared at them, then turned and ran.

He ran with a stubborn determination, not stumbling once, even as armed men galloped after him, brushing past me in a rush.

Thud-thud-thud-thud—

The men in their uniform garb swept by in a storm of dust and hooves. Just as the last one passed me, another figure appeared behind them—hands clasped behind his back, standing still.

Through the din, a clear flute melody rang out.

I turned to look.

A man had appeared at my side, as though he had been there all along.

He looked perfectly at ease, as if his presence had always been part of the scene. No sense of intrusion, no disruption—simply there.

Where the child had been moments earlier, now stood this stranger.

Darkness seemed to hang about him, his presence like a sudden cloud blotting out the sun.

With his hands still clasped behind his back, he stared forward. The wind tugged at his garments.

The dark man spoke.

[Children bear no sin. Sin belongs to adults.]

He turned his gaze on me.

[Isn’t that so?]

“……”

I looked at him for a while, then glanced around.

Somehow, the flames had already died. Only black ash remained.

From the ash, shapes began to rise—dark silhouettes. One after another, they staggered to their feet and, swaying like puppets, followed the flute’s call.

They had the shapes of children.

The man spoke again.

[Stand up, fool. Can’t you see the children are following the sound?]

I turned back to him.

“Who are you?”

He scowled and smacked the back of my head.

Smack!

My vision jolted, and then I woke.

I must have dozed off without realizing.

Leaning against the wall, I blinked dumbly, trying to gather my thoughts. That was when I heard it.

The flute.

Clear notes drifted through the night, echoing across the village.

The moment I heard it, my body slackened and my mind grew hazy.

The longer I listened, the heavier my eyelids became, dragging me toward sleep.

The Heavenly Demon’s voice lashed at me like a slap.

[Sound magic. Protect your ears with your inner qi.]

I slapped myself hard.

Smack!

For a moment, I couldn’t even tell whether I had struck myself or if it was the Heavenly Demon again. The haze had crept in so fast.

But with that blow, I steadied my mind and immediately drew on my qi, shielding my ears.

Then I rushed to the window and peered outside.

In the pitch dark, figures stumbled forward. Children, sluggish and dazed, shuffled out of their homes as if bewitched, drawn to the sound.

Even those locked inside clambered out through windows, moving like drunkards.

“Master, how long has it been?”

[Since the flute began? Not even half an incense stick.]

I decided to wake Shushruta first.

Turning back, I saw her dozing against the wall, breathing softly.

“Hey, hey! Shushruta! Wake up!”

I shook her shoulders hard.

But—

Slide…

Her body slipped through my grip, sinking deeper into sleep’s mire.

I had no choice but to slap her.

“This is no time to be sleeping, you thieving cat!”

Smack! Smack!

Her head snapped from side to side, yet she didn’t stir.

Even with her cheeks swelling red, she remained in that unnatural sleep.

“Click.”

I clicked my tongue, then stood, leaving her slumped against the wall.

Quiet as a thief, I slipped out the window and listened.

The flute seemed to come from everywhere at once, making it impossible to trace the source.

The Heavenly Demon spoke.

[Follow the children. The one you seek will be there.]

“Understood.”

I concealed my presence and trailed behind them.

The number of children was staggering—likely every child left in the village.

Until now, they had disappeared one by one, little by little. But tonight, they were all being taken at once.

Could it be tied to the arrival of the so-called Blind Saint, blessed by the Night Goddess Ketel?

I couldn’t be sure.

As I crept behind them, I pieced my thoughts together.

This flute had two effects:

That explained why even after I slapped Shushruta until her face puffed up, she hadn’t woken. Her sharp hearing probably made the spell even stronger on her.

Either way, if one could enthrall an entire village, then the caster was no ordinary mage.

I was not the Blind Saint, nor even a native of this land.

I was just a passerby. Someone who would soon leave.

But I couldn’t just ignore this. No matter how pressed for time, I wasn’t so corrupt as to walk away from such a sight.

In the deepest alley of my heart, a child’s gaze—sharp with killing intent—pierced me.

So what to do?

The only choice was to rip this out by the root.

It wasn’t enough to scatter the mage’s plans. That lunatic could simply return tomorrow and play the flute again.

The poisonous weed had to be torn up and burned.

The flute-player must die.

The Heavenly Demon’s voice came, low and grim.

[Such men deserve to have their limbs hacked off.]

“That wouldn’t be such a bad idea either.”

I honed my killing intent into a blade’s edge and quietly followed the children.

They left the village and wandered into the forest.

The flute’s sound grew clearer and closer.

Once I had gauged the source, I moved past the staggering children and slipped ahead.

Spreading my senses wide and thin, I searched.

And then—I found it. A single presence, black as pitch, standing out starkly against the night.

“…Found you.”

I crept forward.

The man, oblivious to Death itself drawing near, stood with his hood pulled low, blowing fervently on his flute.

“No choice. I’ll beat that bastard senseless with his own flute.”

[That would not be a poor choice.]

With my resolve set, I moved closer—

Pong—

Like a droplet striking a still pond, a ripple of mana spread beneath my feet.

At once, I realized. A detection spell. He had laid it beforehand, fearing intrusion.

The flute ceased instantly, and his hooded head turned toward me.

I launched myself forward.

Wind coiled around me from the thrust of my step as I rushed him, hand gripping the hilt of my blade.

Steel hissed free, carving a streak of light through the darkness—just as a burst of blue light flared from him.

“Not so fast!”

I ignored the light and slashed for his neck.

But when the glare faded, he was gone.

Only a magic circle remained etched on the ground, glowing faintly.

The Heavenly Demon’s voice carried bafflement.

[What in the hells just happened?]

I sighed heavily and stomped the glowing sigils underfoot.

“Teleportation magic. That thorough bastard…”

[Magic?]

He had ringed the area with detection spells, and beneath his own feet, a teleportation array. An escape ready at any moment.

From what I knew, teleportation was high-level sorcery.

I was about to spread my senses again when—

Crying rang out, not far off.

“W-where are we?”

“Mother! Father!”

“Uwaaaah!”

With the flute silenced, its enchantment had broken.

I clenched my jaw. I wanted to chase the mage, but leaving children alone in this forest was unthinkable.

So I gathered them and led them back toward the village.

But as I thought about it… wasn’t this, too, part of his preparations?

“…So that’s why he’s never been caught.”

His readiness was impeccable.

Dawn came.

Villagers stirred awake one by one.

At first light, I left the village with Shushruta in tow, her cheeks swollen from my slaps the night before. She grumbled about the sting, but I ignored her.

I scoured the surroundings for the mage’s trail, but found nothing.

Precious hours slipped away. By noon, the sun already slanted west.

Shushruta spoke.

“Ashuban, how long do you intend to linger here? We cannot delay further.”

“……”

I bit my lip.

Where had that cautious bastard hidden himself? Just leaving like this left a bitter taste.

Criminals always kept their ears sharp to the winds. It was survival. If so, he must have known about the “Red-Eyed Devil,” and the dagger I carried.

When I lunged at him, I hadn’t been wearing the blindfold.

Had he seen my eyes?

If so… would he flee, or would he return to take the dagger?

If he overestimated himself, he might come back. If not, he would run.

Given his thorough precautions, if he did return, he’d surely prepare himself well.

I wanted to stay until I caught and gutted him. But reality was a cruel taskmaster—always forcing choices, never allowing perfect answers.

Shushruta urged again.

“Ashuban.”

“We’ll search until sunset. If nothing, then we move on.”

“…Fine.”

She nodded reluctantly.

But when the sun had fully tilted west, we still had nothing.

“Ashuban.”

I sighed.

“Alright. But let’s at least bid them farewell before we go. All we can do is hope the real Blind Saint arrives.”

So we turned back toward the village.

The moment we entered—

The flute began.

Clear, piercing, echoing across the village.

I immediately shielded my ears with inner qi.

“Ah… Shuban…”

Shushruta swayed, then collapsed. Villagers crumpled one by one in the streets. Even the children fell this time.

“…That bastard.”

Unlike before, the flute came from one direction.

He was calling for me.

Without hesitation, I burst forward, flying toward the sound.

Through the forest, into a clearing.

There—

The hooded mage stood, his flute at his lips.

When he saw me, he lowered it and grinned, showing his teeth.

“You’ve come, devil.”

His voice rasped, hoarse like an old man’s.

I answered with a sharp grin of my own.

“Damn right I have, old bastard.”

(End of Chapter)

Tip: Tap/click the left or right side of the screen to go to previous/next chapter.