Chapter 69 An Unexpected Choice
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
I ran after Kaede-san as she fled.
A psionic consciousness like mine can’t stray far from its host. The farther she gets, the stronger the invisible tether drags me back—pulling my body toward her like a dog on a chain. The strain doesn’t vanish; it simply transfers to her, adding my weight to her flight, turning me into her burden. That’s how my Psionic Power works.
I hated that. So instead, I sprinted on my own, reactivating the link every few seconds to warp near her again. It was like running while short-hopping through space—exhausting, but at least she didn’t have to carry my weight.
Still, appearing and disappearing over and over drained me fast.
It was a miserable escape.
Kiri-san ran beside us, blood streaming from the arm she’d injured. Her breath came ragged and broken, her legs barely managing to strike the ground. We had managed, for a moment, to shake off the demon woman. Freshly revived, she had staggered, and we had used that precious heartbeat to flee with everything we had. But it didn’t last long.
Kaede-san’s posture faltered—her balance thrown off by the wound to her ear. So I kept running, warping forward whenever I started to fall behind, careful not to let the psychic leash pull tight. Even so, we couldn’t shake our pursuer.
”This is why I told you to go,” Kiri-san muttered.
”You’re a cruel woman,” I said. “All that talk about friendship for nothing.”
”Why did you follow me?”
”Bit late to ask, isn’t it? …Well, maybe I’m just tired of living.”
After that, Kiri-san said nothing. She just kept running.
Her breath rasped in my ears, overlapping my own, thick and suffocating. Our pace kept slowing.
”So then…” she murmured, thinking aloud.
From far behind came the sound of stone breaking. We’d been zigzagging between rock outcrops to block her line of sight; maybe we’d confused the demon for now. But she was close—close enough that I could almost feel her heat on my back.
Kiri-san lifted her head between gasps.
”Lately, Kaede’s seemed… happy.”
”Me?”
”Yeah.”
Kaede-san blinked, clearly unaware. She looked back at Kiri-san with that innocent, unreadable face of hers.
”I don’t know.”
”You really didn’t notice?”
”No. Did I look like that?”
”…Yeah. I don’t know why, but watching you messed me up a little.”
Even now, they kept talking. Even with death running at our heels, they spoke as if they were on a quiet evening walk. In a strange way, it sounded… pleasant—like two souls finally daring to be honest.
”You’d just die somewhere if I left you alone,” Kiri said between breaths. “I wanted to know what happened to you.”
”I can’t talk about the blood pact.”
”So it’s tied to that person after all. I figured.”
”…That’s the only reason?”
Kiri-san fell silent again. Then, as if she’d reached some small, lonely understanding, she smiled faintly.
”They say fifty years is a lifetime. I’ve already passed the halfway point. I just… wanted to know why I’ve been living at all. Strange, huh?”
Her tone was light, almost casual.
But Kaede-san, as blunt as ever, answered without a trace of hesitation.
”I don’t know. You’re always strange, Kiri.”
”If even clumsy Kaede can find happiness, that’s enough to save me.”
”I don’t get it.”
”Didn’t think you would. I barely get it myself.”
Her mouth twitched into a weak smile, a thin hiss of breath escaping through her teeth. She could barely keep running now—her pace no faster than a child’s sprint.
Her consciousness wavered. The hand pressed to her shoulder was slick and red, blood spilling between her fingers.
”Hey, Kaede,” she called softly.
”What?”
”No wind down here. Creepy place, but a fine dungeon. I always thought it’d be nice to fire my gun as much as I wanted here.”
”I see.”
”Come to think of it, I drew the old woman’s lot, didn’t I?”
”Stop talking. Run.”
She did—for a while. But soon, even that faltered. Her limbs moved out of rhythm, scraping weakly against the stone. Then she slowed to a walk.
”Haa… haa… fuuh…”
Her black-and-white hair clung to her pale neck. Sweat streamed down her face, soaking the ends of her hair.
”…Guess I’m worn out.”
Now she was barely walking faster than me. Blood ran from her toes, her thighs trembling violently. I was at my limit too, panting beside her, both of us drowning in exhaustion.
Kaede-san ran ahead, then came back, glancing at Kiri’s injuries with her usual flat expression.
”Can’t run anymore?”
”Looks that way.”
”Coward.”
”Don’t push it. We’ve been running forever.”
Kiri’s eyes had gone hazy. Sweat poured down her face. The usual lazy air around her was gone—she looked like some delinquent college girl catching her breath after a marathon, color drained from her skin, breaths shallow and frantic. She never did recover them.
”The demon. In the trees. She’s found us.”
”Well, that’s just great. My bleeding finally stopped too.”
In the distance, a human silhouette shimmered in blue fire, sprinting toward us. Like heat-haze, it wavered, growing clearer by the second.
What hung between Kiri and Kaede wasn’t sorrow anymore. That had burned out long ago. So had resentment, anger, injustice. All that was left was the calm of people who’d accepted the absurdity of their fate.
They could only watch their ruin unfold—quietly, almost peacefully.
”I…”
Kaede-san’s murmur was flat, as always.
”I have to go. I have a mission. Kiri, buy me some time.”
”And after that?” Kiri asked.
Kaede tilted her head, a curious glint in her eyes—like someone hearing a joke they didn’t quite get.
”After?” Kaede echoed.
”After you buy time. Do we regroup when it’s over?”
Kaede fell silent for a few seconds.
”…Right. I forgot.”
”Hey, you were just about to write me off as dead, weren’t you?”
”I’m sorry.”
”You know I don’t die that easy. See you later.”
”Yeah. See you.”
It was almost casual—the way Kaede said it, like kids parting ways on their walk to school. Then she ran off, light and unhesitating.
Her figure grew smaller. Then she slowed, as if something tugged at her. She stopped, turned back.
”What is it?” Kiri called. “Did you forget something?”
”No. I’ll tell you what happened.”
”Well, thanks. But… are you sure?”
”Yes.”
Before I could even process it—before I could stop her—Kaede opened her mouth and said it clearly, without hesitation.
”Kiri. I lay with that go-sama.”
For a second the world stopped.
What had she just said? That was an absolute, forbidden secret—something you simply could not speak aloud.
Kiri-san and I watched a dragon wink into being.
Directly above Kaede-san—who had told us this with no expression at all—a crimson dragon drifted. It hung in the air over her smooth black-and-white hair, the same monstrous thing that had appeared when the blood-pact was sealed, gliding through the sky like a koi in clear pond water.
It had come all at once, like an illusion.
”What the hell…? No way. Really…? Wait — that’s a dragon. There’s a dragon over you.”
Kiri-san stood dumbfounded.
The dragon floated as if lazily swimming through the garden’s water. Then, with a single cold fact between us—
The contract had been broken.
Kaede-san had betrayed her duty and told others that she had slept with me. That meant she would soon be burned by the dragon. The blood-pact’s penalty was unavoidable and absolute.
”Kaede-san—why would you—”
I forced the words out, breath still ragged. I’d been threatened by the Imperial Guards themselves: never break that rule. If you did, death would come. That outcome was inevitable.
Kaede bowed her head deeply to me, as if offering a formal apology.
”Please accept this. That I lay with him is a shameful thing. I would never tell anyone, but consider this an offering. I have no excuse.”
”N-no, it’s not like that. If you tell the secret you either die yourself, or the dragon appears and kills the one you told before that month runs out. It’s basically suicide…”
I caught my breath.
A terrible memory rose in me. The penalty for betraying the secret was death: after a month’s fearful grace period, a monster would appear. The dragon took its time to investigate, but its verdict was always capital punishment.
There was only one straightforward escape: kill the person you had told. If the recipient died before passing the secret on, the dragon would not count that as betrayal. If the secret could be buried with the recipient in their grave, the betrayer could be judged innocent.
Did Kaede-san truly intend to kill Kiri-san in her mind? The blood-pact weighed heavily on subjectivity—what the pacted party believed could matter.
Above us the dragon examined Kaede, then Kiri, then me, gliding its gaze across the scene. Intelligence or reason in that form was hard to assert, but it clearly took stock of its surroundings.
Then it faded away—silent from arrival to departure. The crimson apparition left without a sound.
I watched it go, wordless. Kiri’s eyes were a mixture of shock and a slow dawning understanding aimed at the woman who’d summoned the dragon.
”Unbelievable. If the mystery-dragon appears for this, it must be true. I’ve never been so surprised to be alive.”
”Kiri—”
”Get out of here. Go with that go-sama of hers.”
Kiri turned her face toward the direction they’d come from.
Footsteps and the scent of presence pressed closer now. A giant blue fist smashed aside a boulder and, behind it, a horned woman strode into view. She hopped over a poisoned swamp and raced toward us; I could already make out her features.
Kiri stooped and picked up a pebble from the ground, clutching it like a weapon, trying to steady her breath.
”Well, that was the luckiest thing I’ve heard to my dying day. Maybe this miserable life of ours isn’t all wasted.”
When Kaede slid me along and I pulled away from the spot, I realized Kiri was smiling.
”Alright. Let’s stick around a little longer, then.”
The blue oni-woman, carrying a deep, furious hatred, planted her long shadow upon the earth.
I didn’t wait to see what happened next. I activated my Psionic Power and warped away.
I reappeared clinging to Trash-san’s back. I’d forced myself to materialize just in time to grab hold, managing to hang on as she kept running.
I swallowed the words I could not speak.
”—”
”Young Master!?” Trash-san shouted.
”It’s nothing,” I said.
I couldn’t tell them.
I couldn’t reveal Kaede and Kiri’s situation. No matter how much I pleaded, it would be useless. Worse: I could not admit I could use Psionic Power on Kaede-san. If I told the truth, Trash-san would put two and two together—trace the confession back—and eventually conclude that I had lain with Kaede. Then the dragon would come for me.
I didn’t want to die.
”But—” I began.
Help was needed now. Kiri-san might be dead in seconds. Yet a single reckless word could turn me into the contract breaker and doom me. And rescuing Kiri would mean sending Kaede to a contract-breaking death by dragon.
I hesitated, then decided.
I would lie.
I would weave a story, misdirect, and beg Trash-san and the others to rescue Kiri. Later, I’d work out the consequences. Even if Kaede’s confession set the clock ticking, there was time—some slender margin. I could use whatever modern knowledge I had, or, if it came to that, sell myself to the noble families of the Imperial Capital. My looks and charm might move even a nation’s core aristocrat to act. I’d show them a chastity turned to obsession—whatever it took.
Could I actually pull such connections? I had no sure idea. But I would do anything rather than watch another person die because of me.
I would not let history repeat itself.
Trash-san’s pace faltered at the sudden weight on her back. Flatty-chan and Natsume’s rhythm stuttered beside us.
I pointed toward the battlefield’s direction. Far across the plain a sheer cliff cast a long, narrowing shadow—a finger pointing the way.
I’d scoped the landscape earlier. The monotony of the terrain made giving directions hard, so I’d been working to memorize landmarks for just such a moment. I forced my mind to name and fix those marks so I could guide them and call for help from any town along the route.
Trash-san stared, stunned by my sudden appearance.
”We’re under attack. Use your gun—help them!”
”Young Master, how do you know that? Weren’t you in contact with Maggot near the town? What have you—”
A fair question, but I couldn’t waste time explaining. I cut her off.
”Sorry. No time. My Psionic Power—it evolved. I can see far distances now.”
”You can see them? Across this plain?” Trash-san’s voice sharpened.
”Yes! It’s new. Like… surveillance. Maybe I can track people I care about. Please, just hurry!”
”I see… another facet of your Psionic Power, then.”
It was a simple lie.
Psionic Power doesn’t evolve. At best, it strengthens in output, not function. But sometimes, later discoveries reveal new “aspects” of the same core ability—enough to make my story sound believable. Once, a psion who prayed for rain during a famine gained the power to create fire and firewood as well. My Psionic Power still has many unknown aspects.
It should be enough to fool them. If this lie is exposed, she might realize the truth—that I slept with Kaede-san. I’ll have to maintain this lie forever.
But I couldn’t think of any other way. In an emergency, good ideas don’t just pop out.
The penalty for breaking the contract is death, but there’s a grace period of about a month. Depending on the severity, there’s time before execution. So, if I can find a way to manage it within that month, it should be fine.
A month should be enough.
I clung to her, shouting desperately.
”Hurry and save them! There’s really no time left!”
If they could provide covering fire from a high vantage point, maybe… But could they really escape to safety while fighting psionic users of that strength? I had to believe they could.
”They’ll die soon. Maybe right now!”
I tried to explain the situation concisely—how dangerous the pursuers were.
But even Trash-san, who always indulged my whims, was cold this time.
”I understand. However, we will not provide support.”
She dismissed my plea.
”Why!?”
I asked again, shocked. I couldn’t believe they wouldn’t help, even knowing the location and the danger.
”Kaede-dono is drawing the enemy’s attention. As agreed. Furthermore, it’s daytime, and firing our guns would reveal our position.”
”B-but! If we don’t help them soon, they might both die!”
”It’s enough if one of them reaches the town. We are a separate unit. We can only trust.”
I clung to her, but it was useless.
”How can you say that…”
”I apologize. But the decision cannot be changed.”
Her calm voice sent a chill down my spine. She was right, cruelly so. They had agreed to be bait, knowing the risks. It was their strategy. Reckless support would endanger us too. My priority was my own Imperial Guards.
”Young Master. They accepted the risks. Unfortunately, we must each fulfill our roles.”
I was speechless. I wanted to argue, but nothing came out. Kaede-san and Kiri-san had gone into battle willingly. Even if their time was short, even if it was for me, it was their choice. It wasn’t forced.
Refusing my pleas must have been agonizing for them. Trash-san was trying to suppress her emotions, but her face was etched with pain. As we argued, Natsume-san, who had been running slightly ahead, slowed to match our pace.
”Hey,” she said. “What are you talking about?”
”Young Master received an update. Two individuals are confronting enemies.”
”…And?”
”That’s all. Let’s gain some distance while we have the chance.”
”What’s with that attitude? What happened?”
Natsume-san’s large, round eyes peered at me suspiciously. How had she known? She couldn’t hear my voice, but from Trash-san’s demeanor alone, she’d understood that the separated pair were in a bad situation.
”Hey, what’s going on with them?” she asked, her eyes wavering with distress. Clear anxiety showed on her face.
”Natsume-dono, let’s hurry. There’s nothing we can do.”
”Wait! Tell me. Please, I’m begging you…”
Carried on Trash-san’s back, I listened to her anxious voice.
As we ran, Natsume-san clasped her hands tightly in front of her chest, looking down. Then she began to pray, her voice urgent.
”God, Buddha, Dainichi Nyorai. Please keep them safe. I’ll repent for all my sins. I was a bad woman, truly. Please, don’t take them before me.”
The three of us immediately resumed our previous speed. I relayed everything I’d learned from Maggot-san and overheard. Even if I wanted to use my consciousness to check on Kaede-san’s location, this information had to come first. There was nothing I could do by returning now. My Imperial Guards were the priority.
Natsume-san kept muttering throughout. It was painful to watch.
”How foolish. What’s the point of becoming an Imperial Guard if nothing good comes of it? Why go to your death?”
Natsume-san was distraught. Her face flushed with anger, but just as quickly, her rage dissolved into despair.
”Don’t leave me alone! Why does everyone leave me?”
Her complexion had turned pale.
After running a short distance, she couldn’t bear it any longer and climbed a convenient tree. She raised the rifle slung over her back and perched on the top of a creepy branch covered in human hair instead of leaves.
”Natsume-dono, what are you doing? Come back here.”
”Please. Just let me fire one shot. They’re all I have left.”
She gripped the thick branch firmly between her thighs and aimed into the distance.
But even her pathetic plea couldn’t sway Trash-san. If anything, her gaze grew colder as she tried to coax Natsume down from the tree.
”We can’t let the enemy know our position.”
”Please, I’m begging you. Kaede-chan and Kiri-chan are all I have. If they’re gone, my life has no meaning.”
Natsume-san couldn’t hear my words.
But from what Trash-san was saying, she sensed that Kaede-san and Kiri-san were in dire straits—it was no longer a guess, but a certainty. That realization was pushing her to the brink.
”Where, where are they?”
”Get down now. The fog has cleared. If you stay in the trees, you’ll be seen.”
”…Tell me quickly, or I’ll shoot and scream all I want.”
A red light flashed past Trash-san’s cheek.
She fired. Natsume-san had fired at her own ally.
The bullet ricocheted off the ground a few centimeters from Trash-san’s boot.
”Natsume-dono…”
”I’m serious.”
She seemed to have regressed, becoming childlike. “From the highest peak at the southeast, ten towns toward the northwest,” Trash-san finally said, her voice flat. “That’s where they were. At least, a moment ago.”
She passed along my words, because there was no other choice. Immediately, Natsume-san glared into the distance, searching. If they hadn’t moved yet, she’d spot Kiri in seconds. A few heartbeats later, her face froze, eyes wide, and she began firing—mechanically, relentlessly.
From below, she looked fused with the tree itself, a living weapon. She kept firing, ignoring the mission’s orders. Every few seconds a flash of red blazed through the sky, vanishing beyond the rocky horizon.
”We’re all going home… heh… hehehe… Kiri-chan…”
Trash-san and Flatty-chan stood below, watching her with grim faces, scanning the field for threats. Flatty’s temper was written all over her; she didn’t even bother to hide it.
”Damn it! I hate battlefields. You go mad, shoot your own team, and tell the enemy where you are? It’s insane!”
She kicked a pebble, stomping the ground and letting out a sharp, furious cry.
She was truly angry. Glaring up at the tree, she shouted, “Splitting into two teams was pointless! What the hell are we even doing?”
The whole operation had collapsed. The diversion, the infiltration—everything they’d planned was unraveling.
”Everything’s gone off-script,” Flatty growled. “Trash, what now?”
Truthfully, none of their original strategy had gone right. The infiltration had failed; the split-team maneuver was a disaster.
Flatty checked her wounds, glaring up at the sniper still firing from the branches.
”Let’s just leave her.”
Trash’s expression tightened.
”Or—ugh, fine, it feels cruel, but should we knock her out and drag her along?”
”If only. But if we interfere, she’ll probably shoot at us again.”
Trash ignored the debate and reloaded her rifle. With a hiss of steam, the spent capsule ejected; she slid a fresh one in with her half-broken fingers.
A soft electronic chime sounded from the gun.
”Unfortunately, our duty is to escort Natsume-dono safely to the enemy’s town,” she said calmly.
Then, finishing her reload, she reached into her pocket and reloaded Flatty’s weapon as well.
”Keep watch. I’ll join the cover fire. If you see anyone, shoot without hesitation.”
”Haah…”
”I know it’s miserable,” Trash said. “But we can’t return home with only Ichimatsu-sama’s Imperial Guards dead.”
Far in the distance, black smoke began to rise—signal fire. Replies flared soon after. From our rear, more smoke. The local Imperial Guard and the townsfolk were already mobilizing. The afternoon sun had burned away the last of the mist; the plains lay bare.
Flatty frowned, firing sporadically toward the distant plumes as if to slow the enemy’s coordination.
”This is pointless,” she muttered. “No matter what Young Master wants, pushing further is suicide. Dungeon infiltration was too advanced to begin with. None of us were trained for this.”
She was right. My Imperial Guards, even the Ichimatsu group, weren’t soldiers. They’d never had real military training. Battle was something they lived near, not something they were made for. Skill and courage could only take them so far.
”If we give up now,” Trash said quietly, “the Young Master will push himself again.”
Flatty froze, wincing. Her face twisted, the memory cutting deep.
She still believed the wound in my abdomen had been caused by some woman. She’d slapped me then—but only because she cared.
”Damn it,” Flatty muttered. “Why is Young Master always the one getting hurt or looking so sad? If it happens again, I’ll die instead.”
”I feel the same,” Trash said. “He despises losing people because of himself.”
They both remembered the long days I’d spent bedridden. The worry that never left them. The pain still lingered behind their eyes.
”People die so easily,” Trash murmured. “He’s too kind. I wonder how we can ever ease that heart.”
Then, suddenly, Flatty’s face brightened. Her lips curled into a grin—utterly out of place amid the tension. Her eyes shone with joy.
”I’ve got it. We just keep it secret.”
”Secret?” Trash blinked.
”Yeah. We say the infiltration succeeded, but the three of them went missing. We don’t say they died. He’ll never know. He’s just a kid—give him some sweets and he’ll forget.”
”Young Master is standing right here,” Trash said dryly.
Flatty yelped. “Wh—no way! …Wait, really?”
”Really.”
”Y-Young Master! That was just… a figure of speech!”
Her nervous, overly cheerful voice rang out across the open plain. But it might turn into a real scream soon—depending on what I decided.
Because it all came down to me now.
What should I do? How do I save everyone?
I had to choose. Whose life mattered most? Who should be saved first?
If I abandoned the Ichimatsu group, Trash and Flatty might make it back alive. Or should I cling to everyone—cry that I couldn’t leave anyone behind—and risk all their lives for a broken plan? If I said nothing, they would understand my original intention and not hesitate to rush into the jaws of death.
Notes:
• Kaede – A female psionic explorer known as Necksplitter, is a veteran assassin and messenger of Lord Ichimatsu. Her appearance is both young and old, with gray hair streaked through black and vibrant, unlined skin. She is graceful yet carries the fatigue of a long life in war, resembling an old hunting dog. Her psionic ability is mysterious and potentially dangerous.
• Psionic Power – Mental energy concept in Chapter 35’s lecture. Trash-san teaches it to strengthen the protagonist’s mind after dungeon ordeals.
• Kiri – A female sniper and member of Kaede-san’s team, white-haired with sleepy eyes, wielding a disguised sniper rifle, known for her quick hands and slow speech, often joking in dire situations.
• Natsume – A female companion and younger sister of Kaede-san, cared for by Kaede-san during their journey through the dangerous valley, at risk of infection from the parasitic creatures.
• Ichimatsu – A high-ranking figure associated with the Imperial Guard, mentioned as having spineless guards around him, with no further details provided.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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