Chapter 43 : Princess of the Underworld

Birdsong rang clear along the lakeshore.

The trees growing near the water cast faint shadows across the surface of the still lake, like strokes in a watercolor painting.

Over that serene picture, two figures leapt back and forth, bringing it to life.

A man clad in black darted from tree to tree in desperate flight, while behind him a red-eyed pursuer ripped through the air like a violent gust of wind.

Flocks of startled birds scattered skyward at the commotion.

“Huff! Hhup!”

The fugitive panted raggedly, throwing a glance behind him.

There—murderous crimson eyes locked onto his own.

The devil was chasing him.

When their gazes met, the devil grinned.

Whiiiish!

An eerie wail echoed, like the cry of a ghost.

“…!”

The small-eyed man nearly tripped in fright, forcing his legs to move even faster.

Running—at least—was his specialty.

He was known in the guild for his speed, which was why he usually served as a messenger.

Yet, to his dismay, the distance between him and the devil wasn’t growing. It was shrinking.

Meanwhile, Ashuban ran with an almost casual ease, studying his quarry’s movements.

“Hm.”

Decent footwork, but nowhere near Sushruta’s.

With that conclusion, Ashuban reached into his pouch and pulled out a coin.

It was silver. He frowned, put it back, and fished out a copper coin instead. Wedging it between two fingers, he infused it with a sliver of inner strength.

Twing!

The copper whistled through the air and struck squarely at the back of the fugitive’s knee.

“Ugh!”

He tumbled off the branch, crashing to the ground below.

Ashuban strolled after him unhurriedly.

The man lay motionless, perhaps knocked out from the fall.

As Ashuban reached for him, the small-eyed man suddenly snapped awake. A murderous gleam flashed as he thrust a hidden dagger from his sleeve.

A perfect ambush—if only the opponent were different.

Thunk.

A rough hand clamped around the blade, stopping it cold.

Not a drop of blood flowed. The man’s eyes widened.

That hand was wreathed in a faint crimson aura.

“D-dark magic!”

Ashuban sneered and drew back his other fist.

“Martial arts, actually.”

Wham!

His punch landed squarely on the jaw.

The man slumped, unconscious.

Dragging the limp body, I returned to the shabby hut.

Sushruta stood by the lakeshore, lost in thought as she stared at the tranquil waters.

Thud.

At the sound of me dropping the unconscious informant, she glanced back.

“…You’re back.”

“Yeah.”

Even at a glance, her expression was complicated.

I sat on the man’s chest and silently studied Sushruta’s back.

After a long moment, she spoke without turning.

“Ashuban.”

“What.”

“How did you know?”

“That he betrayed us?”

“Yes.”

I lifted my eyes to the sky, as blue as the lake below, and replied, “It’s simple. When someone suddenly offers to help, it’s the same as saying they plan to stab you in the back. Especially when something valuable is on the line.”

“…Really?”

“That’s just how life goes.”

“…I see.”

Betrayal, after all, is the privilege of those close to you.

And who are the “close”? They’re the ones you believe—no, the ones you want to believe—would never betray you.

Which only makes it easier when they do.

It had happened to me. And clearly, it had happened to Sushruta as well.

I lowered my gaze to her round little head.

“Was it the entire guild that betrayed you, or just those senior brothers?”

“…Just the brothers.”

“Your basis?”

“If the guild as a whole had turned, we’d never have had a moment’s rest. They’d have worn us down with every method possible until we collapsed.”

“…That serious?”

“Brute strength isn’t everything. The simplest way to take down strong prey is to weaken it first.”

“…Monstrous bastards.”

The wind stirred her midnight-dark hair, strands fluttering like silk.

She stood motionless, staring blankly at the lake.

“….”

I watched her carefully.

Too naïve for a thief, this one.

There was no killing intent, none of that lingering stench of blood assassins carried.

She felt less like a hardened criminal, more like some pampered mischief-maker raised in comfort.

I remembered her antics back in Akenaten, playing tag with mercenaries.

She never seemed interested in killing at all.

In truth, she was closer to a phantom thief than an assassin.

Listening to the soft lap of water, I studied her swaying hair before asking,

“Sushruta.”

“What is it.”

“Who’s this ‘old man’ of yours?”

She fell silent.

I waited patiently.

At last, her answer came.

“…The head of the Thieves’ Guild.”

“Ahh.”

No wonder that acorn-faced man treated her so deferentially.

So my hunch had been right after all—she really was a princess of the underworld.

That I had seen through it so quickly almost unsettled me. I was starting to fear myself a little.

[ …Good grief. ]

Perhaps it was the Heavenly Demon sighing softly, or perhaps it was only the sound of ripples on the lake. With the odds fifty-fifty, I decided to let it pass.

“Hm.”

So she was the guildmaster’s direct disciple.

That made a few things harder to understand.

If she truly held the position of something like the guild’s princess, why had she been playing at phantom thief games in some remote forest of Akenaten?

As I pondered this, I stared at her in silence.

Sushruta stood frozen at the water’s edge, unmoving as a statue. Only her midnight-dark hair swayed in the breeze.

What was she seeing? For a fleeting moment, she looked lonely.

“….”

Time slipped by.

The gentle sound of water lapping at the shore was like a lullaby.

Then, at last, Sushruta spoke.

“I was raised among wolves.”

The sudden confession swept away all trace of drowsiness.

“Yes. A savage, beastlike creature who grew up among wild animals—that was me. Wolves were my parents. Their pack was my family. I don’t know who birthed me, nor why I was abandoned. From my first memory, I was with the wolves. Back then, I truly believed I was one of them.”

I recognized a common thread between us.

Neither of us had seen our parents’ faces. Both of us had been beastlike children.

The difference was, I had always thought myself human, while she had not—and unlike me, she’d at least had a family.

“I hunted with the pack, tore into raw meat, howled at the moon. You may think it strange, but looking back… those were the happiest days of my life.”

I listened without interrupting.

Her words rippled over me like the waves of the lake.

“Then one day, we encountered a demonic beast. I didn’t even know such a thing existed. It wasn’t so large, but its body was red, swift, and its fangs were vicious. Looking back, I think it must have been a C-rank beast.”

Her voice trembled faintly.

“…It ripped us apart. I can still remember it vividly. Only I, the fastest of the pack, managed to escape. I scrambled up a tree, but my leg was wounded. The beast roared, clawing at the trunk, trying to reach me. When it failed, it battered the tree, trying to topple it. Just as the pack had been, I was moments away from being torn to pieces. I shut my eyes, paralyzed with fear.”

She swallowed before continuing.

“Then, I heard a sound of something being cut… and silence. When I opened my eyes, there stood a man, a bloody dagger in his hand, looking up at me. That was how I met the Old Man.”

…To cut down a C-rank beast so easily—he must have been formidable indeed.

“He took me with him and raised me as a human. He taught me language and manners, so I could shed the habits of a beast. I learned quickly. By imitating his words and actions, I soon became human.”

And with that, a puzzle was solved.

So that was why her speech was always so old-fashioned, like an elder’s.

“I learned fast because he praised me when I did well. That joy made me eager to master whatever he taught. He began to call me a genius, and taught me more: how to hide in shadows, wield a dagger, kill a target, suppress my presence, lighten my body, control my movements. Before I knew it, I had become his disciple.”

The disciple of the guildmaster.

“There were others, disciples before me. At first they despised me—called me filthy, threw stones. I ate with my hands, crawled on all fours like an animal. But the Old Man declared us brothers. He warned them: brothers must help and care for each other. Reluctantly, they began to act friendly.”

Reluctantly…

I could already see where this story was heading.

“We trained together. At first, their skills far surpassed mine. Naturally—after all, they had trained long before me, while I was only just learning to speak.

“But they were slow learners. I worked tirelessly, day and night, repeating what I’d been taught. I thought that if I stood at their level, the Old Man would praise me. Soon, I caught up. He called me a genius. But the others… looked at me like a monster.”

“….”

“I was always an outsider. Maybe because I was close to the Old Man, or because of something in my nature, or because of my birth—I don’t know. But everyone kept their distance. The closer I stepped, the farther they drew away. Even the senior brothers who were supposed to be closest…”

She paused.

“…They hated me. Pretended to care before the Old Man, but slandered me behind his back. They spat venom. I heard it all. Even when I plugged my ears, I heard it. But I pretended not to, and tried even harder to reach them.”

“….”

“But things never went well. My mistakes only fueled their scorn. Once, I brought prey to the doorstep and they shrieked at me. Another time, I tried to fetch water and ended up dousing them instead. Their mockery only grew. Sometimes, I wished I’d never learned human speech.”

“….”

“In the end, I left. I wanted to go where no voices could reach me. I wandered without direction. At last, I found a forest. There was only the sound of the wind. No voices to wound me—only the sound of the wind…”

Her voice trailed off.

I gazed at her back, hair swaying in the breeze.

So when her senior brothers suddenly offered their aid, she’d been foolishly, childishly happy.

Ready to welcome them with open arms, smiling—never noticing the cold blades hidden behind their backs.

If not for me, one day she surely would have been stabbed by those very hands she called “brothers.”

…What a fool.

“Ashuban.”

Still staring at the lake, she asked softly,

“What should we do?”

I answered without hesitation.

“Kill them, of course. Traitors don’t deserve light.”

“….”

Sushruta fell silent.

With her face turned away, I couldn’t read her expression.

After a long pause, she let out a breath like a sigh.

“…I see.”

(End of Chapter)

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