By Zephyria =======
“Get lost, old man.”
Silver gave his grandfather a hearty kick to the rear. The rabble clung to them tenaciously. The pickpockets and muggers were particularly persistent. Having recognized at a glance that Wolf and Red Eagle were clueless, they launched a fierce assault.
Every time a pickpocket’s hand slithered inside Red Eagle’s robe or a mugger tried to smash the back of Wolf’s head with a hammer, Silver kicked the assailant away. After more than twenty kicks, the inn was finally within sight.
“Ugh, it’s too chaotic.”
Black Weasel kicked open the door to the inn. The tavern inside, with a floor tilted to one side like a shipwreck, was not much different from the outside.
For starters, there were more animals than people. Sheep and goats lounged about everywhere. In a corner, chickens clucked in stacked cages. In another corner, several male cats were engaged in a boxing match, kicking up clouds of dust over a single female cat. Dogs sat at the feet of guests tearing into meat, preoccupied with sending them longing looks. Bird feathers, sheep’s wool, cat hair, and dog fur floated through the air in every direction.
This was a common sight for wintering in Stohl. Since it was impossible to install braziers in every stable, all animals except horses were brought indoors at night. Silver found the scene quite cozy, but the Prince and the Attendant, who had grown up in the warm palaces of the south, seemed deeply shocked. The two who had steadfastly marched forward despite the onslaught of pickpockets and muggers were now frozen in place, as if they had stepped through the gates of hell.
Kids, it’s not that big of a deal.
Silver pushed back his robe’s hood and looked around. A crowd had gathered in the center of the tavern, cheering as if a fight had broken out. In a far corner, a bald, muscular man clung to a beer barrel, letting out a roar like a hungry bear (though in his own mind, he seemed to be singing). A woman, who had pulled her trousers down to her knees, was intently staring at a stuffed deer head on the wall, preoccupied with masturbating.
In every way, they seemed more backward than the male cats boxing over a female. The problem was that these drunks were warriors.
They all had their sideburns shaved and wore studded leather bracelets on their left wrists. Shaved sideburns were a characteristic of warriors from the southeastern region of Stohl. Red Eagle’s mother likely had a hairstyle no different from the drunks before them.
This chaos seemed to be a drinking party celebrating a victory. The area in front of the counter was also a scene of turmoil. A man was frantically thrusting into a woman who was gripping the counter with both hands. The man wiping glasses inside the counter shrugged at Black Weasel.
“Hell, isn’t it?”
“Heaven for the warriors, probably. Do you have two rooms?”
“You can take any room on the third floor. The warriors are too drunk to climb above the second. Oh, payment is upfront.”
“One day. We’ll leave after breakfast.”
The stairs creaked like an old deck. Black Weasel kicked open the door to a random room. Silver tapped on the door of the room next to it with the back of his hand and gestured with his chin toward the Prince and the Attendant.
「You two sleep here.」
He entered the room and closed the door. In the narrow, dim interior, there was somehow a fireplace. Silver collapsed onto the bed without even taking off his robe. Black Weasel, perched on the adjacent bed, pulled something out from inside a wolf skin.
“Silver! Let’s do this.”
Silver turned his head to look. Held in Black Weasel’s large hand was hallucination herb.
“Wow! Where did you get that?”
“I swiped it when those beggar kids offered it earlier. Go light it on the fire.”
Black Weasel had raised Silver since he was six, but his parenting style was by no means exemplary, even by Stohl standards. He taught Silver how to drink at age seven. Once he turned eight, he taught him more dangerous things and enjoyed them together.
Silver lit the hallucination herb in the fireplace and brought it back. The assassin and his assistant sprawled out on the beds and smoked the herb. Silver’s consciousness slowly began to sink.
Everything surrounding him melted softly, and the colors became more vivid. Thoughts in his head would flow rapidly, only to suddenly stop. The flow of time became irregular; sometimes a single moment felt like an eternity. Occasionally, unexpected laughter burst out.
Unfortunately, this special moment where the boundary between reality and fantasy blurred did not last long. The hallucination herb had a short effect. It lasted longer than a rabbit’s climax, but it was originally a herb used as a sleeping aid. To taste ecstasy for a long time, one had to smoke several in a row.
Black Weasel had only stolen two sticks of the herb. Beside Silver, who was gradually drifting into dreamland, Black Weasel spoke hazily.
“What are you doing, Silver… suddenly… dancing… the girl next to me is pretty…”
“Just sleep… you idiot…”
“Silver… the Attendant… I have a funny idea…”
“What now… are you going to insist… he’s the leader of a pirate crew this time…”
“No… cut off his limbs…”
Huh?
“Should I… give him as a gift… to Director Erem… draw some blood every now and then… it has to be effective… damn it, if it’s not… I’ll personally use an axe… to smash him to pieces…”
W-what the hell is he talking about?!
The sleep vanished instantly. Silver couldn’t even breathe, his eyes darting around. Black Weasel’s laughter soon turned into snoring.
There was one secret that only Silver knew, which Black Weasel himself was unaware of: Black Weasel remembered absolutely nothing of the words he uttered while intoxicated by hallucination herb. And there was absolutely no lie in those words.
Silver had intentionally not told him about this habit. Part of it was a scheme to use it when he needed information, but more so because the things Black Weasel rambled about while high were always about women.
The woman he slept with last night, the woman he desperately wanted to sleep with, the woman he absolutely refused to sleep with—it was women, women, and more women. But for the first time, actual information had come out. And it was quite eerie.
That Ice Armor Warrior bastard, why is he doing that to the Attendant?
Because the evil spirit possessing the Attendant is unpleasant? No, it’s too extreme to conclude it so simply. There is another reason.
Silver searched through his memories. Only after a thorough search of his mind did he find a clue. The point at which Black Weasel’s attitude toward Wolf changed noticeably: it was after he returned from meeting Director Erem. From that exact moment, Black Weasel showed interest in Wolf, praising him lavishly, saying he was like a protagonist from a legend.
Regardless of the details, it seemed certain that Director Erem was involved. The words Black Weasel mumbled supported Silver’s assumption.
‘Give him as a gift… to Director Erem… draw some blood every now and then…’
Did Black Weasel and Director Erem conspire to have some fun torturing a person possessed by an evil spirit? No other reason came to mind. Director Erem’s basement revived before Silver’s eyes. The stench of stale blood. Dark brown organs preserved in glass tubes. Dried ones, fragmented ones, sewn ones. On the walls, various knives, awls, and scissors.
Only after stepping into that basement did Silver understand why the assassin Black Weasel associated with the grandmother who ran the orphanage. Erem was a butcher wearing the mask of a benevolent grandmother.
Silver gripped the blanket tightly.
As soon as it’s light, I’m driving that evil spirit out of the Attendant.
* * *
The next day.
Black Weasel didn’t budge from the bed until late morning. When one falls asleep after smoking hallucination herb, a deep sleep lasts for more than half a day. Silver left the room with a cat-like tread.
“Huh?”
He was startled the moment he opened the door. Wolf was sitting curled up on the hallway floor. Sensing someone, he snapped his head up and jumped to his feet. The area under his eyes was bruised purple, as if he had been bitten by a swarm of mosquitoes all night. Since Silver had been intending to find Wolf anyway, he approached him gladly.
“Good timing. You and I—”
「Silver. I have something to tell you.」
“Huh? What is it?”
「Atania language, Atania language. Silver.」
“Ah, right.”
Silver scratched the back of his head with one hand.
「Right, what is it? Tell me as we go down. Where’s the Prince?」
「He must be sleeping.」
For some reason, it sounded strange. ‘Must be sleeping’?
「Didn’t you sleep with the Prince? Don’t tell me you spent the whole night in front of the door to protect the Prince?」
「I did spend the night in the hallway. But it wasn’t because of the Prince’s escort.」
「Then why?」
When Silver asked back, Wolf shut his mouth tight. Glancing at Silver from the corner of his eye, his face suddenly looked as if he were extremely irritated. What’s up with that guy?
32 – Hell Execution Order