SBTMK Chapter 5

"Why are you looking at me like that? Surprised? Did I not seem the type?"

The world runs on fundamental injustice. If Izenerus had distributed magical power equally among all people, things might have been simpler—but that had not been the arrangement.

The world contained various kinds of people. Those with great magical power. Those with negligible amounts. And those with none at all.

Those born with great magical power were constitutionally weak in body. The more mana they held, the more pronounced this was.

Which was why mages and knights had always been separate categories. Mages could not lift a sword. Knights could not become mages, and lifted swords instead.

But the world produced variant types in monsters. Humans were no exception.

Those who could wield great magical power and a sword simultaneously. They were called Masters.

Masters channeled their power into the blade. When one decided to swing with intent, lower-ranked magical beasts ceased to exist in any recoverable form.

"And if something happens to me—I won't hold you responsible. So stop worrying. Settled?"

The world is fundamentally unjust. She felt this again.

What the gods had failed to give this particular person was, at most, dignity. Or perhaps not even that.

The voice that had gone cold a moment ago—the one that had made kneeling feel like the correct response—had carried weight that required no announcement.

"Then. Next topic. Who were the people who attacked you?"

Simen moved on.

The shock of the Emperor being a Master lasted only a moment. Flora bit the inside of her lower lip at the inconvenient question.

Being asked about things she couldn't disclose was always awkward. Talking further with him had been the wrong choice—she could see that now.

Though leaving him alone and finding him dead afterward would have been its own problem. And there was the matter of his thigh, which she was responsible for.

Looking at him now—he'd have managed himself fine regardless. The worry had been excessive.

"That habit again."

Simen clicked his tongue.

"Not answering just makes me more curious. That's how people work."

"……Like me, they are not citizens of Haenkan. That's all I can say."

Flora worked to keep her eyes away from his.

Looking into those eyes produced a strange pull—the sensation that she might tell him everything, given enough time with them.

"You seem uncomfortable, so I'll let it go. I'll find out through my own means. I can't overlook people entering my empire without permission, ignoring laws and procedures."

She'd expected a threat—tell me or die—the ordinary imperial response.

"Thank you for understanding."

She thought of Laviu, who had once been her lord. She thought of several kings she had encountered in different kingdoms over the years. She found Simen oddly unlike all of them.

Flora finished binding the bandage tight over the herb-covered wound and stood.

Then Simen's hand closed hard around her arm.

"——gh."

She had him down before she'd decided to. By the time she registered what she'd done, she was sitting astride him with a hand pressing against his throat.

It was habit. Not intent to kill.

Simen lay on the bed, brow pinched, producing a strangled sound.

'He might genuinely think I'm going to kill him this time.'

That reflex.

Flora came back to herself. She released his arm and arranged her expression into something approximating remorse.

The orange pupils looking up at her held something she couldn't immediately categorize. It might not have been her imagination.

"You just——"

"……"

"Put me on my back?"

He asked it with the face of someone who had genuinely not expected this turn of events. Of all the things to lead with. The tension that had locked through her nerve-ends went flat.

"I apologize."

She did not add: not putting you on your back—attempting to kill you. Flora moved quickly to extract herself. Simen had her pinned before she finished the motion.

She struggled. She could not get free.

"Pretty One—don't you think we're moving a bit fast?"

"……Get off me, please."

"Not that I mind."

The face looking down at her was entirely pleased with itself. Flora's brow tightened slightly.

"Your leg—it's all right?"

"Nobody's all right after being stabbed. I'm only not saying so."

'You're putting a great deal of weight on that leg for someone who isn't saying so.'

She stopped trying to move. The situation had reversed. In circumstances like this, the only exits were hurting him or killing him—and she could do neither.

Which meant she had to wait.

"Much more cooperative now."

Shk. He tore one side of her robe in a single motion.

"What are you——!"

He bent his head closer. Unfamiliar warm breath landed along the edge of her arm. Her eyes closed without her permission.

"You're hurt here too."

"——hh."

He blew across it, gently. The pain in her arm made itself known as though it had been waiting. The graze from the earlier engagement with the knights. She'd never registered it. The heat that arrived in her face was embarrassment at what she'd been preparing herself for.

"What were you thinking to make that expression?"

"Nothing."

She had been preparing to render an emperor unconscious. That had been the plan.

But the situation had not required it. He laughed—knowing, unhelpful—and she pressed her lower lip between her teeth.

"Let's see whether what you applied to me was actually medicinal."

Simen worked the herb into his palm and began pressing it carefully against her chin and arm.

"I thought you might not bleed at all. Apparently you do. And feel pain."

She suppressed a sound when he applied it, brow drawing in slightly. His voice carried through the moment.

"Don't clench your teeth. If it hurts, say so."

Something contrary in her made her bite down harder.

"That's a deep graze. Without proper healing it'll take a long time to close."

"When you're finished—get off me."

"Done."

"……Thank you."

He finished with the herb and moved off her only then.

"I'll turn around—put something on. If you keep like that I'm going to have an actual problem. I'll say again: young. Healthy. Physiological response, entirely outside my control."

One side of the robe had been torn. Any careless movement and everything would be visible.

She had no personal objection. But he did, and courtesy required the gesture. She was leaving this place soon regardless.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes."

He watched her change and asked.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"I'll have to find something. I've been a burden on your empire for a short while, Simen. Thank you."

Flora addressed him with the correct formality and turned to her belongings.

She had moved through a great many places over the past year. This cave had been home longer than most. She'd thought there would be more to gather.

There was almost nothing. Only the weapons. The same as arriving.

Something faintly hollow in that.

While she gathered, Simen's brow drew together.

She registered the change. Her attention went to her hearing.

"Someone's there."

They both turned toward the cave entrance simultaneously.

Both had sensed it. Someone was approaching the cave.

"……Simen, get clear. It's going to be people after me. I'll draw them in another direction."

These would be the Cenkan knights she hadn't neutralized. She was certain of it.

"Flora! Wait——!"

She was out of the cave before he could stop her. She heard him call from behind and did not slow. There was no time.

She didn't want Simen drawn further into this. Before he was a Master, he was an emperor, and a person. Even extraordinary capability didn't make someone proof against the one mistake that happened to come on the wrong day. He also had an injured leg. Precaution cost nothing.

She found cover behind a large rock. She extended her head to read the situation.

An arrow hit the ground directly in front of her face.

One shot. A warning. Surrender and you live.

She had no intention of surrendering. But it was too early to engage. She needed Simen to be able to leave the cave without them registering him.

She counted to three internally. Then she ran, loudly.

The sound of them taking the bait followed.

Swish. Swish.

"——gh."

Arrows from multiple directions, simultaneously. She'd barely cleared them—and then something was embedded in her arm.

Flora understood it was a sleeping poison only when her vision inverted.

She had survived inhumane experiments. She had survived brutal training. After receiving formal rank, she had never failed to complete an assigned mission. Cenkan's hero—the honor followed.

Even so, she had been an ordinary person at some point she no longer remembered. Which meant she was not invincible.

They called her a monster. She was still only human. One life, the same as anyone. Finding herself in actual danger, she thought: she'd been right not to bring Simen into this.

Sleep crashed down on her and scattered her focus. Flora's body shook as she forced her eyes open against it.

She'd been trained to resist poisons and compounds. She could hold longer than most. But not forever.

No time. She had to neutralize them before that window closed.

She pressed her focus back into duty, barely made it behind a tree, and pulled the arrow from her arm. A sound she didn't fully manage to suppress passed through clenched teeth.

She would repay this pain at the point of death.

Flora raised the bow with shaking hands. Her field of vision split in two, merged, split again.

'I am not going back in chains.'

Arrows had come from those positions. Flora shot from what her body remembered of them.

"——ugh."

Almost nothing in her stomach. Whatever came up, she put on the ground and forced her head back into some kind of working order.

Whatever compound they'd used—a moment's inattention and she'd go under entirely.

More arrows came. She cleared them, barely, and put down several more knights while her grip on consciousness was still functional.

But this was the actual limit now. The muscles drawing the bowstring had begun to cramp.

And while she hesitated, another arrow landed. This one through the right shoulder. Through and through.

The days of running flashed through her like a lantern turning.

'Is this how it ends.'

Slump.

Flora went down.