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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 51: Because I promised to return (1)

Chapter 51: Because I promised to return (1)

Marcella⁠⁠ quickly wiped the⁠‍ tears from her‍‍⁠ eyes and looked‍‌⁠ at the boy⁠ in front of​ her with a furrowed brow.

It‍‌ was a face‌ she missed, but⁠ it was also​‌ a face that​ shouldn’t be here.‌‌

“Leave,‍‌ quickly.”

With‍‍ all her strength,‌‌​ Marcella pressed her​​ lips together in⁠ desperation.

“Go!”‍⁠

The⁠ urgency in her‌‌ tone, barely above⁠ a whisper, was‍⁠ palpable.

Tears‌​ still lingered on‌⁠ Marcella’s cheeks.

Vlad‍ tilted his head‌‌​ as he looked​⁠ at her.

So‌ the moment had​ come.

The‌ place that had‌​⁠ been my home.​​

He​ spoke with his‍‌‍ eyes, fighting back‌​‌ tears in the‍ dim light.

“…!”⁠​

Something‌‌ shiny falls from⁠‌ the sky.

Above​‍‍ the mire of⁠ men’s desires, Vlad⁠ watched the starlight‍​ flow pathetically.

It‌⁠ would be a flower, even if⁠‌​ it fell to⁠ the ground and⁠ was trampled, if‌‍‌ it still retained‍​ its fragrance.

The‌‌ boy slowly rose‍​⁠ from his seat,​ smelling the rose​​ for the first⁠ time in a long while.

It‍‌‌ was time to⁠‌​ wipe away his‌‌ tears.

***​

“…..”‍​

Madame‌​​ sensed the tension‍⁠⁠ between the blonde​⁠​ man and Marcella.⁠

But‌‍⁠ she was also‌⁠ a survivor of‌ the alleys.

Accustomed⁠⁠ to such contingencies,‌‍ Madame gestured silently⁠​‍ to the men‍⁠ sitting at the‌‍ back table.

“Get⁠ him out!”

The​⁠ men who received​‍‍ Madame’s signal stood‌ up one after‍‌‌ another.

They​‍ seemed to be​​ at least more​ than ten people.​​⁠

All‍ were Jack’s subordinates‍ sent here.

“But​⁠​ you should pay⁠‌​ first.”

However,‍‍​ even amidst an⁠‌⁠ unsettling atmosphere, the​ blonde man rose‌‍⁠ casually and simply⁠ looked at Madame.‍‍

His‌ blue eyes flashed‍‍ with red veins.‍‌​

“Before⁠​⁠ giving 100 gold‍‍⁠ coins to Madame,​‍‌ I need to​ make some calculations⁠‌‍ on my own.”‍‌‌

Madame⁠‍ was taken aback.‌‌ The man who‌ until recently seemed‌‍‍ like a young‌‍ noble now resembled‌ a hungry wolf.​⁠⁠

“What⁠‌​ calculations?”

Madame‍ swallowed carefully before⁠​ opening her mouth.⁠​

The‌ men filled with⁠ lust began to​‍​ slowly back away⁠​ from the impressive​ momentum emanating from‌‌ the blonde man.‌⁠

At‍ that moment, Jack’s‌ henchmen, who had​⁠ been silently observing,​‌ slowly drew their‌​ knives and approached.​‍⁠

In‍ an atmosphere like‌ an impending storm.​

“Lame​ Jack.”

The‌‍ man who slowly‍‍ raised his head​ spoke.

“There’s‍​‍ something I must‌‌‍ receive from him.”⁠​​

Upon‍ hearing the name‌ of someone she⁠​ didn’t expect at‍‌‍ all, Madame was⁠ bewildered and wanted‍⁠⁠ to ask what‍‍ it meant, but…⁠‌

Splat-‌

Suddenly,‍‍ she felt blood‌​ on her face‍ and could do‍​ nothing but shut‌‌​ her mouth.

A henchman of Jack’s,⁠ attempting to sneak​⁠ up from behind,‍‍‍ crumpled powerless.

“Stay​​ here and wait.”⁠

A trickle of blood‍ dripped from Vlad’s​‍ sword.

“Because‍ if I don’t‌ get it from​⁠​ them, I’ll get⁠ it from you.”​‌

The‌‍ wolf released from‍​​ its cage let⁠‌ out a hungry​⁠ drool.

After‌ a long time,‍ and with inevitable‍ tasks ahead of‌ him.

“Clear​‍ the way! Move!”‌

“What⁠⁠ the hell is‍‍‍ going on with‍⁠ that guy?”

From‌‍ a place where‌‍⁠ lust ran rampant,‍​‌ it suddenly turned‌‌ into a murder‍ scene in the⁠‍‌ back alleys.

Guests​ who saw that⁠‍‌ began to scream‌ and shout in‍ terror.

“Go⁠‍ for him now!”‍

“Where⁠⁠ did that bastard​‍​ come from?!”

Unleashed‌ beasts.

Fleeing‌​ from desires.

Vlad‍ smiled faintly as​‌⁠ he saw Jack’s‌​⁠ men charging at‍‍ him, growling.

“I‍ guess I missed‍​ this…”

Vlad‌‍‍ felt his toes​ sinking back into‌ the filth.

But‌‍‌ it didn’t matter.‍​

The‍‍ star the boy‍⁠‌ had once dreamed⁠⁠‍ of was now‌‌​ in his hands,⁠ not high above⁠‍​ the forge.

“Bastard,⁠​‌ who sent you!”‍‌

“…Who‌ sent me?”

Vlad⁠⁠ couldn’t help but‍ chuckle at a phrase he hadn’t​‍‍ heard in a long time.

So⁠⁠ he answered.

The⁠​‌ name of someone​​ who had been‌ in his heart‍‍‌ for so long.‍⁠‌

“Jorge.”‌‌⁠

“What?”​‌‌

With​‍​ those words, Vlad‌ drew a dagger‌‌‍ from the sheath‍ at his waist.​⁠

It⁠‍ was the dagger‍ of the man‍​ who had picked‍‌⁠ him up and​‍ told him to⁠ carry it at‌ all times.

“Jorge⁠‍​ sent me.”

Jorge’s⁠‌ dagger, along with‌‌​ the sword, was​‌ plunged into the​​ men’s throat.

Although‌ he fled breathless​ that day, not‍ today.

The‌​‍ boy had navigated​ many rivers to‌‌ shout his name.‌⁠

So‍ today, in this‌‌‌ place.

He‌‌⁠ had returned with​ the right to⁠‌ shout his own‌‌ name.

“Here’s⁠​ Vlad you’ve been‍ looking for!”

Marcella​⁠‌ covered her mouth‌ with her hand,‍ stifling the exclamation.‌⁠

She⁠​‌ remembered.

The⁠⁠ boy who had​ shouted behind the‌‍‌ knight of the⁠ blue moon who​ was leaving.

“Come​​​ to kill me​ like that day!”⁠​

Vlad‌ struck again and⁠​ again.

The‌‍​ shackles around his‍​ ankles.

“That⁠ bastard was Vlad!”​⁠‌

“And⁠‌ he survived!”

Understanding‌ the boy’s cries,‍⁠ the beasts charged,‌ sharp teeth gleaming.‍

“Come,⁠‍ bastards!”

With‍‍ bright red blood,⁠⁠⁠ the man running‌‍ towards him was​⁠‌ being dragged into‍⁠‌ the boy’s world.​‍‍

One‍​ scream for every⁠⁠​ sword.

One⁠⁠‍ life for every⁠⁠‌ scream.

Vlad,‍⁠ with furious eyes,‌‌‌ made his way​ through Jack’s men.⁠‍

He⁠‌ wouldn’t leave any⁠⁠​ alive, not even‍ for Marcella, who‍ cried tears of​⁠‌ blood.

Vlad⁠ dodged with the⁠ steps taught to‌ him by the⁠‍‌ knight as they​ lunged at him,‍⁠ tearing their ears‍‌ off as he‍⁠ had been taught⁠ in the alleys.‌​‍

It‍​​ was a messy‍‍ move, but one​ that sought only⁠⁠‍ effectiveness.

“Ah!”‍

Although‍ some tried to⁠‍‍ flee from the‌‍ boy’s ferocity, there​⁠ was no mercy⁠‌⁠ for them.

Vlad‍ grabbed the man⁠‍​ attempting to escape,⁠⁠ pulling him by⁠ the hair as‍‍ he fell and‍​ plunging his dagger‌ into his throat.‌

Blood‍‌​ flowed like a fountain, covering the‍‍ floor of the‌⁠‌ establishment with a chilling cold.

“No,​‌⁠ it’s not us!”‌

“Please,‌ forgive us!”

Those⁠ who had been⁠⁠​ dragged here by​‌ desire cried out,‌ clinging to the⁠‌⁠ wall.

Though​⁠ his anger was‍​ not directed at‍​ them, he could⁠ bear no more.‍

“Ah!”⁠‍‌

Vlad⁠‍ grabbed one of‌⁠​ Jack’s men hiding⁠​ among the crowd⁠⁠ and without hesitation​‍ plunged Jorge’s dagger⁠ into his throat.‍

The⁠⁠​ man’s eyes rolled‌ in his head.‍‌

“Ah,‌‌ ah!”

The‍‌ last of Jack’s‍‌ men, who had‍⁠ managed to reach‍⁠‌ the door, staggered,​ trying to rise​ in desperation, but‌⁠‍ what awaited him⁠ were the guards‍⁠​ of Soara surrounding​ the entrance.

“Why⁠​​ don’t we finish​ this inside? We’d‌‍⁠ be better off.”‌

Vlad’s‌​​ calm voice from⁠‌‌ behind, though oddly​‌​ tranquil, sent a shiver down the⁠ man’s spine.

“No,​​ please, no!”

“No.”‌

Vlad‌‌ trampled the Jack’s‍ man lying on‍​ the ground and,⁠‍​ mercilessly, slit his⁠⁠⁠ throat with his​⁠‍ dagger.

The‍ man clung to‍​‌ the wound on‌‌ his neck, trying⁠ to stop the⁠‌‍ constant flow of‌ blood, but it​‌⁠ was a futile​ struggle.

“If​⁠ they had caught‍‍ me that day,‌‍⁠ they wouldn’t have​ let me live⁠⁠ either.”

It​⁠ was one of​‌ the laws of‌ the streets—if you‍ can’t kill, you‌‌‌ die.

“Ah​ ahh.”

In​⁠⁠ the alley, where​‍‌ only silence reigned,​ Jorge’s dagger swallowed⁠ the last scream‍ of someone.

***​

The‍​​ Smile of Rose.⁠

It⁠‌ used to be‌⁠‍ a symbol of​⁠ the streets of⁠⁠ Soara, but now‌ it was a nest of worms⁠⁠‌ where a man‌ drank.

“Another⁠​ drink.”

With‌​ the hook on​ his left arm,‍​ he broke the‍​ ice and let‌ it drop into‌ his glass in⁠​ front of him.​⁠

“Boss,⁠ you’ve had too⁠‍ much to drink.”‌‍

“….”‍‌

The‍ subordinate beside him​‌ tried to persuade‍ him to stop,⁠​‍ but One-handed Jack‌​​ just stared at‌ his glass without⁠‍‍ saying a word.​​​

The‍ knight of the‍ prostitutes, Jorge.

Since‌ he disappeared, the‌‍‍ streets of Soara​​‌ had practically become‌‍‍ his property, but‍‌ One-handed Jack was‍ not pleased.

Rather,‍‌​ he sank more⁠‌ and more into‌ alcohol every day.⁠

And⁠​ as he deteriorated,‍​‌ so did alley‌​ life.

“Is‍ this all I can do my‌‌ way? Forget about⁠⁠‍ empty words, pour​⁠ me another drink.”‍‌

“Yes,‌‍ boss…”

Watching‍​​ as the liquor​ rained down like​​​ rain, One-handed Jack⁠‌‍ turned his head⁠ to look at‍​​ his subordinates below‌​ him.

The‍ boys chatted unknowingly.‍‍​

Would‍ they know?

Our‍‌​ lives are determined‌‌‌ solely by those​ above.

“A​‍ shitty life.”

Although​‌ he lived in‌⁠‌ a dark alley,‌ One-handed Jack was​⁠⁠ ambitious.

He‍‌ would ascend higher.‌​‍

He‍ wouldn’t stop here.⁠​

That’s‌​ why he didn’t⁠​​ hesitate to steal​​ and use the​​​ bodies of his⁠‌ enemies to ascend‌‍ gladly.

Winners​⁠ are above, losers⁠ below.

He‍​ firmly believed that⁠‍ everything was obtained‍‍‌ through victory, but‌‌‍ here he was,‌ despite his defeat.⁠

That‌ day he had‌ lost to Jorge.​

But⁠ in the end,​ it was Jorge⁠ who died.

“This​ shitty world.”

Someday,‍ I’ll be like‍ that too.

Someone⁠⁠‍ above will decide⁠⁠​ my fate.

Like‌ Jorge, who died​⁠ so pathetically that⁠ day.

“In​ the end, it​ means nothing.”

One-handed‌⁠⁠ Jack downed the⁠‍​ bitter liquor in‌ one gulp and⁠ trembled with the‍⁠⁠ excitement of boiling‍⁠‍ alcohol.

It‍⁠​ was a night​⁠​ when he couldn’t⁠​‌ sleep without getting​ drunk.

Bang!‍⁠⁠

“Boss,⁠ boss!”

At‌ that moment, a man opened the⁠ door so abruptly​‌‌ that everyone present‍‌​ turned around.

“Boss,​ there’s a big​⁠⁠ problem!”

“What’s​ going on?”

“Why?⁠⁠ What’s happening?”

One​ by one, Jack’s​ men asked as⁠ they watched the⁠⁠ man run up⁠ the stairs to​⁠‌ the fourth floor,‌‌‌ breathless, but the​‍‍ man who had⁠ suddenly appeared just​⁠⁠ ran up the‍‌⁠ stairs until he‍​ was out of​ breath.

“Boss!”‌​

“What⁠​‍ the hell!”

Only‌‍ when Jack was‍‍‌ in front of​⁠ him could the⁠‌ man speak with‍ difficulty between short‌ breaths.

“We’re‌‌ surrounded!”

“What?”⁠

Jack’s​ brow furrowed at​ the man’s unexpected⁠ words.

“This‍​ place?”

“Not‍‌‍ just here, but…”‍

The‍‌ man reporting swallowed‍ hard and then‍ spoke in a low voice.

“The‌⁠ entire back alley‍ is surrounded. The⁠‍‍ soldiers have surrounded‌​​ us.”

“Get⁠‍ out of the​‌ way.”

One-handed‍‍⁠ Jack, who finally⁠​‍ put down his‍​​ glass of alcohol⁠⁠‌ due to the​ unusual look, roughly‍ pushed the man⁠⁠ in front of⁠‌⁠ him and got​‍⁠ up.

“Boss!”⁠‌⁠

“Are‌ you okay?”

The‍‍ subordinates came forward⁠⁠‌ to support Jack‍ as he staggered⁠‍ down the stairs.​​‍

“Shit…”‍​

As​⁠⁠ he descended the⁠⁠‌ stairs, Jack looked‍⁠ outside through a confused gaze.

The​ back alleys of‍​ Soara, shrouded in⁠ darkness.

Instead⁠ of the lights​‌ that should be‍​‍ tempting customers from‍‌‍ the night-lit streets,‌⁠‍ there were lights⁠ of another kind‌ surrounding him.

“Open​ the door!”

Jack‌ shouted as they​ finally reached the‍⁠​ ground floor, and‌ his men hurried⁠ to open the‌​ door.

“What‌‍ the hell.”

As⁠⁠ they stepped out,‍ they were greeted⁠‌⁠ by a crowd‌ of torches.

Under⁠⁠⁠ those torches were‍‌ the figures of​ soldiers standing in‌‍ an orderly manner.‌‌‌

“Ha.”​

Jack,​‍ the one-handed man⁠​​ observing the scene,‌‌‌ let out a sound that he​‌ didn’t know whether⁠‍ it was a sigh or an⁠‌ exclamation.

“Boss,‌‍‌ we’re surrounded, we’re​⁠ surrounded.”

“I⁠‌​ know.”

But‌‍ even in the‌‍​ face of the​‌‍ threatening sight, One-handed⁠ Jack remained indifferent.‌‍

“…Looks‍‌​ like we have‌‌ company.”

“What?​‍

“You⁠ shouldn’t be here,‍ you should be⁠​ preparing for the⁠‌ guests.”

Moving‍⁠​ away from the‌‌‍ lights that would⁠‍‌ bring the end,⁠‍ One-handed Jack breathed‌‌​ a sigh of⁠ relief.

It‍ was more reassuring‍ to see doom‌⁠ right in front​‌ of him than‍​ the anxiety of​​‌ not knowing when​⁠ it would come.‌‌‍

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