Chapter 43: I Don’t Hate You Anymore

“The footprints are fresh. We might be catching up soon.”

Lydia pinched a handful of loose dirt from the hoofprint and crushed it between her fingertips.

It was damp—the trace left not long ago, even carrying a hint of the stench of cow hooves.

Lydia frowned and flung the dirt from her hand.

“Let’s go.”

Anna walked past her, heading straight in the direction Lydia pointed.

Lydia’s directions were never wrong. She was a master tracker.

She once said her people had all been excellent hunters.

She never said more beyond that.

Anna tacitly refrained from asking further.

They were enemies who would never meet again once this commission was completed.

Anna didn’t want to argue. Words were useless. All that mattered was that there was one person who believed her.

She had once considered getting along with Lydia, but now, that was nothing but a luxury.

So be it, then.

Their little sisterly game should end now.

Scarborough was not far ahead, and it was inevitable they would encounter the Demon King’s Army here.

Those were nothing like goblins or other Lower Demon Race creatures. That was an army—a trained army.

Anna could only hope not to cross their path.

“Caw caw.”

It was a Raven.

A pitch-black tail feather drifted down into Anna’s palm. She looked up—night was falling.

But it was noon.

What blocked out the sun were swirling black clouds, turning day almost to night.

Crack. The sound of dead leaves crushed underfoot echoed in the forest.

The silence was eerie.

“Lydia.”

Anna called softly.

No response.

“Lydia!”

She raised her voice. Still, there was no answer.

“Hee hee hee—”

A sharp laugh rang in her ears. Anna turned toward the sound, but saw only a swarm of bats flapping their bony wings.

“Big sister—”

Lydia’s voice called from behind. Anna spun around, only to meet the flash of a blade.

Squelch. The blade sank into Anna’s shoulder socket.

Pain snapped her thoughts awake. She drew the Holy Sword, swinging it at the grinning “Lydia” before her, but her strike met nothing but smoke.

“Lydia” faded like mist, yet the wound was real and bleeding on Anna’s shoulder.

“Long time no see, Hero.”

A chill wind brushed the back of Anna’s neck. Her face hardened as she turned, swinging her sword as fast as lightning.

She felt the blade clearly slice through something’s skin, even cutting into flesh and bone. A spray of red blood erupted, splattering on the nearby tree trunk.

A shrill screech sounded, but still no monster appeared.

Blood poured from her shoulder wound, the agony making Anna’s left arm nearly useless.

She tightened her grip on the sword with her right hand, crimson eyes scanning every inch of the ground around her.

The gloom deepened; black clouds nearly swallowed the sky.

The stillness of the forest was like viscous water, threatening to drown Anna at any moment.

“Lydia, where are you!”

Only her voice echoed through the woods.

“Worried about your little lover?”

A cold voice slithered into Anna’s ears from all sides, taunting her with mockery.

“Don’t rush. Soon you’ll be able to join her… in hell!”

Two figures of Lydia appeared to Anna’s left and right at the same time.

One weeping, one furious and twisted.

One reached out, crying “Big sister,” pleading for Anna’s help; the other gripped a sword, ready to stab Anna in the chest at any moment.

Anna merely stared coldly at the two Lydias before her.

Then she thrust her sword into the chest of the one who was crying.

The weeping Lydia turned to gray smoke and drifted away.

Anna twisted aside, dodging the other Lydia’s sword slash.

Seizing the opening as Lydia’s strike faltered, Anna grabbed her by the collar, pulled hard, and drew her into her arms.

“Wake up! Lydia!”

Anna shouted anxiously, but the Lydia in her arms twisted free and punched Anna hard in the jaw.

Tch.

Anna rubbed her swollen cheek, put down her sword, and studied Lydia before her.

Lydia was clearly under an Illusion Art. All of this was the work of the demon hiding in the dark.

Its aim was to make them kill each other.

“Die die die die—!”

Lydia screamed, her swordplay wild and frenzied, full of hatred and despair.

“Lydia, look at me, Lydia!”

Anna blocked Lydia’s slashes with all her strength. She slipped aside again and again, sword barely missing her clothes, slicing off strands of silver hair.

She called Lydia’s name over and over.

But all she received in return were curses so venomous they cut to the bone.

Anna’s heart grew cold.

Who could know whether these were illusions, or words from the heart?

Lydia’s downward slash missed, her body staggering with the momentum.

Anna seized the chance—sliding in close to Lydia in a flash.

She grabbed Lydia’s sword-wielding wrist with one hand, hooked her heel behind Lydia’s ankle, and with a sudden force, flipped Lydia to the ground.

Lydia grunted, falling on her back. Her short sword clattered to the ground.

Anna kicked the weapon away, trying to straddle Lydia’s waist.

But Lydia’s strength was extraordinary. One hand formed a claw, viciously gripping Anna’s throat.

She truly intended to kill Anna.

Anna turned her head aside, reversed her grip, and subdued Lydia’s arm.

“Let me go! I’ll kill you!”

Lydia struggled madly beneath her, eyes blood-red, twin streams of tears rolling down her face, dyed crimson as they fell.

“Look at me, Lydia!”

Anna cupped Lydia’s face in both hands, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“Lydia, don’t be blinded by illusions! Lydia!”

Anna called her name desperately.

“It’s useless, Hero. You can’t wake someone who truly wants to kill you.”

A dreamlike voice echoed in her ear once more.

Anna’s head snapped up, her eyes sharp as fire, instantly locking onto the source—a twisted hollow in a gnarled tree ahead to the right.

“Shut up.”

Anna’s Holy Sword sliced through the air, plunging straight into the tree hollow’s shadow.

The Holy Sword pinned the shadow precisely in place.

The shadow writhed. A one-eyed demon was forced into view.

The Holy Sword had run through its shoulder, nailing it firmly to the tree. Its body sizzled and smoked, bit by bit crumbling away under the sword’s power.

The crimson in Lydia’s eyes ebbed like the tide, confusion replacing her twisted expression.

She blinked, tears brimming in her eyes.

Big sister was right before her. She didn’t know if it was tears or sweat falling onto Lydia’s face as she turned her gaze away, only to see her own nails nearly digging into Anna’s flesh.

“Big… sister?”

She spoke weakly, then quickly shut her mouth.

“It’s alright.”

Anna’s voice trembled.

“It’s all over now.”

She let Lydia go and collapsed onto her back, exhausted.

Lydia turned, recalling everything that had just happened, and sank into bottomless silence.

She had nearly killed Anna.

No one noticed the ruthless gleam flashing in that demon’s single eye.

“Long live His Majesty the Demon King—”

It screeched, body swelling abruptly. Beneath its skin, stretched thin and nearly transparent by magic, its dark purple heart throbbed once.

Anna’s pupils shrank to pinpoints. She flung herself over Lydia without thinking, sheltering her with her own body.

“Boom—!”

A thunderous explosion sounded. The blast sent Anna and Lydia flying, crashing hard to the ground.

Lydia opened her eyes to see a landscape scorched black. Anna’s Holy Sword was thrust into the earth, its blade glowing faintly in the darkness.

“Big sister…”

She frantically searched for the sister who had shielded her at the critical moment.

The hatred had vanished with the explosion; only fear remained.

She didn’t want to lose anyone else.

“Big sister… Big sister…”

Her hands groped over the ground, nails digging deep into the soil.

Big, heavy tears rolled down, like a torrential rain.

“Don’t cry, Lydia.”

A hand gently hooked her finger.

Lydia turned her head, only to see Anna, bloodied and weak, slumped against a stone.

“Big sister!”

Lydia clung tightly to her hand.

Her throat caught. She couldn’t speak.

“Do you still hate me, Lydia?”

Anna seemed to have no strength left to speak.

“Big sister, I—I don’t hate you. Don’t go, don’t go.”

Lydia sounded like that despairing child all over again.