TDXXBC Chapter 2 (Part 3)
by BreeHe really is something else.
She threw him a pointed look, but it was softened by amusement.
The streets were alive with festival energy. Clowns twirled balloons in elaborate shapes, vendors carried wooden trays filled with powdered sweets, and children ran through the crowd, their laughter ringing through the air.
They stopped at a game stall, one of many where people tried their luck at darts, toy archery, or miniature fishing for prizes. Aderton gestured toward it, and Sascha sighed before stepping up to play.
She won. Over and over.
Every dart she threw landed on target, every arrow she fired struck dead center. The stall owners’ faces twisted with dread as her pile of winnings grew—from stuffed animals to jewelry and even enchanted weapons.
Aderton happily cradled his spoils, beaming. After sweeping through half the games, Sascha finally raised her hands in surrender.
“That’s enough. Let’s go.”
“But look at that golden turtle over there—”
“We’ve won plenty. If we keep going, these poor merchants will have nothing left to sell.”
The game vendors, overhearing her, let out visible sighs of relief. Some even started reaching for salt, preparing to throw it at them as if to ward off bad luck. But at the sight of Aderton’s sharp glare, one of them hastily stuffed the salt pouch away.
Aderton glanced around before tilting his head.
“But aren’t prizes meant to be won? If other customers waste their money and walk away empty-handed, do you think these merchants will offer them a refund?”
His voice was light, almost innocent, but his words were anything but. Sascha narrowed her eyes at him.
“They should be happy to hand over fair prizes,” he added. “You earned them.”
“Aderton.”
Her tone was firm.
Aderton, seeing her unwillingness to argue further, shrugged. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you want.”
“Besides, we can barely carry what we already have. There’s plenty more to see—no need to burden ourselves with extra baggage.”
“Well, well. Look who’s been making a mess of the festival.”
A familiar voice stopped them in their tracks.
Sascha turned and immediately scowled.
A man with an imposing build stood before them, towering like a mountain. Behind him were several others—a woman with twin swords at her waist, a spearman with a massive lance slung over his back, and a hooded figure with a squirrel perched on their shoulder.
They were mercenaries.
And not just any mercenaries—they were the type that had been trying to recruit her for years.
“It’s been a while,” the large man said. “Have you thought about our offer?”
Sascha remained coldly indifferent. The remains of the monsters she hunted fetched high prices, and mercenary groups frequently tried to lure her into their ranks. Just like they were doing now.
“Let’s go.”
She didn’t even spare them a second glance.
As she moved to leave, one of the swordsmen behind the large man clicked his tongue.
“Wow. Not even an answer? That’s cold.”
Another mercenary shot a look at the spearman, who promptly adjusted his grip on his weapon.
The tension shifted.
Sascha’s hand instinctively fell to the hilt of her sword, her sharp gaze sweeping over the group.
“You’ve asked before, and my answer hasn’t changed. I work alone. I have no intention of joining any mercenary group, nor do I want company.”
Sascha remained unfazed as the hooded sorcerer fidgeted with their sleeves, looking dejected. Their pet squirrel, however, was less forgiving. It screeched angrily at the mercenaries, as if sensing its master’s distress, puffing up like it was ready to leap at them. The sorcerer struggled to calm it down, wiping nervous sweat from their brow.
Meanwhile, the other mercenaries had shifted their mockery toward Aderton.
“You act like you’re too good to associate with others, but you’ve got some pretty boy trailing after you.”
“Handsome little nobleman, isn’t he? Is he yours?”
They snickered among themselves, tossing crude comments back and forth. What they considered playful jabs were anything but. Sascha’s grip tightened around her sword, but before she could react, Aderton stepped forward.
“Do not disgrace Sascha’s name,” he said coldly.
“Oho~. So, you are hers?”
“Maybe we should check if he’s as good in bed as he looks.”
“You know how it is—the quiet, well-mannered ones are always the first to climb under the sheets.”
Even as Aderton’s expression darkened, they kept whistling and spewing filth. He took a step forward, but before things could escalate, Sascha stopped him.
“Go to the mountain entrance. I’ll follow when I’m done here.”
“But Sascha—”
“Go. Now.”
Her tone left no room for argument. Aderton hesitated but eventually obeyed, throwing her one last concerned glance before walking away. He kept looking back, worry plain on his face, but Sascha didn’t budge until he disappeared over the hill.
Then, with a heavy sigh, she finally reached for her sword.
But she didn’t draw it.
Her hand rested only on the hilt, fingers curling around the upper part of the sheath.
A silent declaration: You’re not even worth unsheathing my blade for.
The insult wasn’t lost on the mercenaries. The spearman, his pride bruised, swung his weapon in a wide arc.
“Don’t look down on me!”
In a single, effortless move, Sascha knocked him unconscious. No blood spilled, no unnecessary force—just a clean, precise takedown.
The twin-swordsman rushed in next. He fared no better.
Sascha struck him in the throat before he could even unsheath his weapons. As he staggered, she kicked his knee out, sending him sprawling onto his back.
He groaned, attempting to rise—only to find his own swords embedded in the ground beside his throat, forming an ‘X’ just inches away. If he moved even slightly, the blades would slice through his skin.
Seeing their comrades fall so easily, the sorcerer immediately raised their hands in surrender. Their squirrel waved a tiny white handkerchief as well, as if understanding the situation.
The burly leader sighed. “Apologies. My men can be a bit… unruly.”
Sascha ignored his attempt at diplomacy and attacked.
Again, her sword remained in its sheath.
The man yelped as she struck him with brutal efficiency, not once letting up.
“Wait—! I already apologized—!”
His words did nothing to stop the onslaught. It wasn’t until he was completely subdued that she finally spoke.
“You’re the only mercenaries who’ve been loitering in the area. It’d be best if you start talking.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The traps. The massive ones lined with serrated teeth. You set them, didn’t you?”
A flicker of recognition passed over his face.
Sascha had seen those traps before—large, grotesque things with jagged metal edges. They weren’t designed for a quick kill; they were meant to ensure that whatever was caught suffered.
And Aderton had been caught in one of them.
Had he not been skilled in medicine, his injury could have cost him his leg.
Sascha clenched her teeth. If it weren’t for Aderton’s own abilities, he would have been crippled because of these bastards.
She pressed the tip of her sheathed sword beneath the mercenary leader’s chin.
“You should know that setting unauthorized traps—especially without state approval—is illegal.”
“……”
“Did it never occur to you that an innocent creature—or a person—could have stepped into it instead of a monster?”
“N-No! That’s not what happened!”
The sorcerer, who had been cowering in the back, suddenly blurted out. It was surprising—their timid nature had made them seem like they would simply watch and wait. Now, however, they were stepping forward, eyes determined.
Sascha narrowed her gaze. The sorcerer quickly rummaged through their pockets and pulled out something familiar—one of the traps from the mountain.
“This—This is the same trap you saw, right?”
“Yeah.”
“T-Then, look!”
The sorcerer hesitated before placing the trap on the ground. With a deep breath, they jumped on top of it.
Sascha tensed.
What the hell are they doing?
But… nothing happened.
The trap didn’t snap shut.
Not even a twitch.
The sorcerer hopped a few more times, and still, the metal jaws didn’t budge. Unlike conventional traps, which triggered based on weight, this one remained completely still.
Then, the sorcerer stepped off and placed their squirrel near it.
The moment the squirrel got close, the trap snapped shut.
The little creature barely escaped in time, shrieking in terror before scrambling up its master’s arm and biting them in frustration.
“You see?” the sorcerer stammered, wincing at the bite. “It—it doesn’t react to humans!”
Sascha slowly approached, staring at the trap.
Tentatively, she extended her arm and inserted it between the metal jaws.
Nothing.
It remained open.
She tapped the base, applied pressure—still nothing.
Her expression darkened.
If this trap doesn’t react to humans…
Then why did it activate for Aderton?
Her face drained of color.
* * *
The base of the mountain was marked by a large barrier stone. It served two purposes—it shielded the village from monsters and acted as a landmark at the crossroads between the settlement and the mountain path. Aderton sat before it, waiting for Sascha.
How long will she take? No, finished already? He plucked a blade of grass and started playing a simple fortune-telling game with it. That was when he felt the presence of someone approaching.
“Sascha!” Aderton waved excitedly. His face was full of warmth and relief, but Sascha’s expression was the exact opposite. She trudged toward him with heavy steps, her gaze fixed downward. She didn’t meet his eyes, didn’t even try. She bit down on her lip as if punishing herself.
“Sascha? What’s wrong?”
“…Aderton.”
She spoke his name with unsettling calmness. Aderton tilted his head slightly, not yet understanding. The sight of his clueless, guileless face was at once endearing and utterly unbearable. Sascha took a deep breath, forcing down the emotions boiling inside her. Then, slowly, painfully, she spoke.
“Take off the bandage on your leg.”
“What? Why all of a sudden?”
“Do you want me to do it, or will you?”
“…”
The weight in her voice crushed any attempt at brushing it off. Aderton hesitated, sensing that whatever had happened in the village had shaken her.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but—”
“Take it off. Now!”
Something in her tone made his breath catch. She was trembling. Aderton didn’t question her again. He leaned down, his long fingers carefully unwinding the bandage from his leg, layer by layer.
The fabric fell away. Beneath it, his skin was flawless. Not even a scar remained.
“…Hah.”
For a brief moment, she had held onto hope, but her worst fear had come true. It had been odd from the beginning—how his wounds had healed too quickly despite the lack of proper medicine, how his condition never seemed to worsen. She had ignored it, convinced herself that maybe he was simply slow to recover. But deep down, she had known. A human with a wound that deep wouldn’t heal so easily. There was only one kind of being that could.
A monster.
Aderton was not human.
Sascha’s knees gave out, and she sank to the ground. How pathetic. She had withdrawn from the world, rejected people, and retreated into the mountains, yet she had laughed so carelessly in the company of a monster. The rustling leaves sounded like whispers of rebuke. She felt too hollow to even shed tears.
She covered her face with both hands. Even though her expression was hidden, Aderton could feel it. Despair. Disillusionment. Regret. Every shade of pain. Carefully, he parted his lips.
“…Let me explain.”
“Explain? Explain what? How fun it was? Watching a human dance in the palm of your hand?”
He had no shame. No guilt. His casual attempt to talk as if nothing had happened made her fury erupt. Sascha’s hand went to the hilt of her sword. The veins on her hand bulged with tension, but she still couldn’t bring herself to draw it.
“I never meant to deceive you. I wanted to tell you slowly, when the time was right.”
Sascha grabbed the center of her sheathed sword and swung. Even without unsheathing it, the force created a powerful gust of wind. Aderton twisted his body, barely avoiding the attack.
But she didn’t stop.
She swung again and again, sending ripples of wind slicing through the air. The ground cracked, trees splintered. Aderton dodged as best as he could, but his opponent was the strongest Swordmaster in the land—the warrior who had once slain the dragon Kalceus.
Aderton’s foot caught on uneven terrain, and he staggered. The moment he faltered, another strike came for his head.
Pop!
A small burst of sound echoed.
Aderton was gone.
In his place, a small black snake lay coiled on the ground, its scales glistening, its round golden eyes blinking up at her.
“You…”
<I told you from the beginning. I only wanted to repay my debt.>
The voice wasn’t spoken aloud—it resonated directly in her mind, a quiet, whispering presence that felt like the autumn wind brushing against her consciousness.
The tiny serpent, its yellow eyes filled with quiet sorrow, slowly lowered its tail. Then, with another pop, Aderton reappeared, standing exactly where the snake had been.
Aderton kneeled before her, his voice desperate. “You saved me. I only wanted to repay my debt.”
Sascha said nothing.
“I was just a weak little snake. There wasn’t much I could do in the mountains. But I still wanted to help you.”
Still, she did not respond.
“It’s the truth. Please, believe me.”
His hands were pressed together in earnest supplication. The plea in his voice wavered, but it made Sascha’s expression falter. Slowly, she lowered her head and released her grip on her sword sheath. Her lips, hidden beneath the cascade of her red hair, were pressed tightly shut.
When she finally lifted her face again, the tip of her nose was red, and her eyes were heavy with unshed tears.
A bitter, sorrowful sigh slipped from her lips. “So you’re going to mock me until the very end.”
The blade that had remained stubbornly in its sheath was drawn at last. Sunlight glinted off the steel, cold and unforgiving.
“A tiny snake managed to evade my tracking, to completely erase its presence?”
“That’s because I’m weak—”
“No.”
Her voice cut through his excuse.
“It’s because you’re so powerful I couldn’t even fathom your strength. Because you’re so skilled in controlling it that I didn’t notice.”
“I only ever wanted to repay my debt to you.”
“And yet, a monster radiating immense magic, a monster that even the great bird failed to wound, was supposedly beaten up by a cat?”
“Sascha, please, just listen to me—”
“Shut your mouth!”
The tip of her sword pointed directly at him. A wave of crimson energy erupted from her body, wrapping around her like a living flame. It was redder than blood, a terrible and merciless hue.
Aderton instinctively leapt backward, putting as much distance between them as possible, but the blood-colored energy was relentless. It chased him, slicing into his skin.
“Hngh—!”
A sharp line of red bloomed across the pale skin of his throat, and blood trickled down.
If she had truly wanted to kill him, she would have. The fact that she hadn’t was proof that she hesitated. That, even now, even after knowing what he was, some small part of her still couldn’t let go. Had he reacted just a moment too late, or had she swung just a fraction harder, it wouldn’t have ended with a mere cut.
“You never planned on hearing me out, did you?”
She let out a bitter laugh.
“What reason do I have to?”
“Then I suppose we’re at an impasse. I’ll take my leave.”
“Where do you think you’re going?! You think I’ll just let you walk away?”
“…Even so, I meant what I said. I really did want to stay by your side.”
Tears clung to the edges of Aderton’s eyes, shimmering like glass. He looked vulnerable, his voice thick with emotion, but Sascha refused to let it sway her. Just as she steeled herself to strike again, a thick white mist bloomed from nowhere, swallowing the space between them.
She cursed and swung her sword wildly. Red energy slashed through the fog, dispersing it, but by the time it cleared—
He was gone.
“Dammit!”
Her roar of frustration echoed into the empty air. Not even a trace of him remained.
Meanwhile, in the village below, the festival was reaching its peak. As night fell, people gathered by the riverbank, anticipation thick in the air. The moment the last sliver of sunlight vanished, a loud boom rang across the fields.
All heads turned skyward.
Fireworks exploded in dazzling bursts of red, blue, and gold. The crowd clapped and cheered, their laughter and excitement filling the air.
At the same time, far from the festivities, the spearman from earlier sat slumped against a wall, rubbing his temple. He had only just woken up from being knocked unconscious.
“One hit? She knocked me out with one hit?”
“Yeah. You were a real sight to see,” the dual swordsman sneered.
“Goddamn it.”
The spearman groaned and pressed a hand against his forehead. Meanwhile, the dual swordsman was still boasting about how he hadn’t lost consciousness.
The hooded sorcerer, who had helped remove the swords embedded beside the dual swordsman’s head, sighed.
“You two are exactly the same.”
“Stop whining and get up. He’s here.”
The towering mercenary, who had remained silent despite the ongoing festival and the bickering of his comrades, finally spoke. He nodded in the direction of an approaching figure.
A man walked toward them, his black hair shifting with every step, catching the light of the fireworks above. His amber eyes flickered with the colors of the exploding night sky, momentarily shifting from gold to red to blue before settling back to their original hue.
“You’re back,” the mercenary greeted.
“How did it go? Did you succeed?”
The spearman waved his arms wildly as he shouted, but the dual swordsman elbowed him in the ribs.
“Are you stupid? Have some tact.”
“What? Why?”
“Look at his neck.”
“Ah… Ahaha…”
There was no wound on his throat, but just below the hollow of his neck, a faint trace of blood remained. The spearman coughed awkwardly, glancing at Aderton’s face to see if he was upset.
But Aderton was smiling.
It was a soft, gentle curve of the lips, but his gaze was razor-sharp. The moment the dual swordsman and spearman recognized that particular smile, they fell silent. They had seen it before—Aderton only smiled like that when his mood was at rock bottom.
Meanwhile, the sorcerer pulled their hood even lower, shrinking back. “Lord Aderton… please, never ask me to demonstrate something that dangerous again… Momo was terrified….”
They reached up to stroke their pet squirrel, but the creature jerked its head away in offense. Even when offered a carefully peeled nut, it refused to accept the gift. Instead, it kicked the walnut to the ground, sending it rolling away. The sorcerer pouted in dismay.
“What will you do now?” the large mercenary asked cautiously.
Aderton swept his black hair back with a slow motion of his hand, his golden eyes glinting under the lantern lights.
“We’re going back.”
“What?”
“But… we didn’t bring her.”
“We’re leaving empty-handed?”
The mercenaries gaped at his unexpected decision. That stubborn man, giving up just like that? No profit, no result? None of them could believe it.
But Aderton merely gave a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter. I already got everything I needed.”
“What do you mean?”
No answer. Instead, Aderton placed a hand on his stomach, rubbing it as if something precious lay within. He looked utterly content. The others exchanged bewildered glances.
He thought back to their conversation.
—What happened to the hero after she slew the dragon?
—She went to the heavens, didn’t she?
Aderton scoffed.
The hero ascended to the heavens? What nonsense. Even now, thinking about it irritated him. His smirk twisted, lopsided and displeased.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden commotion. A loud cry pierced the air, drawing his gaze upward.
The fireworks had ended, leaving the night sky clear, and in that empty sky, a great bird soared. Its massive wings cut through the air, its tail feathers glowing crimson under the moonlight.
Aderton watched it closely, his expression unreadable.
“A creature that flies too high must eventually be pulled back to the ground,” he murmured.
With a flick of his fingers, the bird suddenly faltered mid-flight.
Its wings spasmed.
It plummeted.
What had once been a symbol of freedom and power became nothing more than a falling mass, flailing helplessly toward the earth.
“…That’s just cruel,” the mercenaries muttered among themselves, shaking their heads. None of them dared to say it out loud.
“Let’s go,” Aderton ordered. “We have much to prepare.”
Without looking back, he walked away.
The others followed, and not once did Aderton turn around.