Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison

Chapter 48

A Natural Born Monster

The girl sat in front of him languidly, letting her tiny silkworm to crawl all over her fingers. Her other hand supporting her chin as she leaned against a small table. He noticed that she was in her inner robe, most likely because her outer robe was dirtied by slime and demon blood.

The side of Martell’s nose twitched slightly as the strong herbal smell of poultice emanating from under the bandage which covered her arms filled the room with its heady fragrance.

The two did not speak after that initial question and Connie made no attempt to continue the conversation. Only her eyes gazing at Martell as he squirmed uncomfortably.

The beastfolk boy knew that sooner or later he would have to explain himself. It was just he did not expect her to call upon him so fast. And after a shaking event such as meeting a real demon.

But he had seen her in action, and there was no doubt in his head that killing a demon was not beyond her. The only thing that did not register with him was that she got out of the fight with only a few bruises.

“I…” he squeaked.

Suddenly Martell was pushed back violently. A sharp pain on the back his head and the floating sensation he felt made him realize that she had pinned him to the wall, held by the neck.

“Do you know why I am disappointed in you?” she asked.

“N- no…”

“Think.”

“B-because I was w-weak? I’m just a -.”

“Think!!” she growled.

“Because I – I was a coward?”

“Think!!!”

“I – I don’t know!”

Connie flung him to the corner of the room and shook her arm in an annoyed manner.

“(Cough)…f - forgive me, M-mistress. Forgive me…”

“Are those words sincere? Do you really want my forgiveness? You don’t even know yourself. Why should I forgive you? You speak lies as easily as a man would breathe.”

Connie sat where she was before. Yao-er had made a small nest next to her and started to breath gently. “Now I am giving you a chance. The last chance that you’ll get. Tell me something about you that is true.”

“I am really sorry…!”

“Stop right there, Martell. Think about what you are going to say,” Connie said with harsh, cold tone. “No more lies. No more platitudes and acting. Only truth.”

The strawberry-haired boy gulped when he saw her expression. Her very gaze caused him to tremble. Her words like the cold wind of a tundra. His lips trembled but no voice came out. He had to hit his leg to regain a sense of control.

At this time, Connie had exerted a bit of her bloodlust to press him down.

“…I – I killed…” The words he began to speak tasted bitter on his tongue. “…my own father.”

When he spoke the last word, he fell on his butt. No longer could he stand the pressure of her stare.

Yet despite that fact, it was as if the dam that had been stopping his truth from flowing suddenly burst apart.

“Martell Lobelia…is not my real name. It was the name given by the officer of the Kingdom of Vorzenny under its law to all refugee. My Hut-Ner – Heart Name – is Alyuk Lidar. I…was born in a Beastfolk clan called Sangyat. Sangyat clan was a branch of the Great Azut-Baydar Empire which worships Hurgul.”

Martell spoke of names and places that Connie did not recognize. However, Azut-Baydar was something she had heard before.

“Like all Beastfolks clan, Sangyat prized strength above all else. And with me being born weak and premature, I was the shame of my father. When I was four and I haven’t learned to walk, my uncle said that my father cried. After that, he began drinking and beat me when he was drunk.”

With the mention of his father, he appeared to have found fire under his butt and he leaned on the wall. Trying to stand up. When he failed, he continued his story.

“Up until I am ten years old, we lived by mooching off his brother. The family did not like me or my father much, but they tolerated us. The eldest son of his family taught me how to hunt. But without enough strength, all I can do was to become bait and track animals.”

“But with each passing month, my father become more and more erratic. He kept on spending the money I got from selling my part of the hunt’s rewards for booze. Even with that, I did not hate him. After all, he was still my father.”

Connie pushed a little more and his face began to pale. Yet Martell continued. For some strange reason he wanted to spill all his secrets to this terrifying female before her. Perhaps it was because of the warmth that she gave him. Or perhaps it was because he was scared. He did not know. Still, he went on.

“Until one day he took me to a cave where he had built a shrine. It was then that he…sold my soul to a Demon Lord. Through a secret ritual.”

“…Your father has ties with a demon?”

It was the first time she spoke after a long while. The boy nodded, trying to regain his breath.

“Sangyat clan used to be made of demon worshippers. The clan was banished more than 30 years ago because of this and had to live in the forests of Vorzenny. That was what I meant by the clan being refugees. It had mostly been forgotten with time, but the family still practiced the faith in secret.”

“The ritual succeeded and my father asked it to give me powers in return for my soul. And he gave me what my father asked,” Martell said. “The power that once belonged to the heroes. By then I already lost my consciousness.”

“When I woke up, I saw the myself standing before my father’s dead body. Pitchforks and hacksaw stabbed into his chest so deep they did not budge when I tried to pull them out,” he began laughing as he ruffled his hair madly. “And you know what the most disgusting thing was? I was not sad. I did not get angry or sorrowful. All I could think about was…”Oh, he’s dead.”.”

He laughed at his own past derisively. “Disgusting, isn’t it? To not be able to feel anything even after killing my own father. That’s also why my past masters do not keep me for long. They tried to make me their own, lavish me with presents and promises. Defile me with their lust and desires in the name of love. None of that could touch my heart, and in knowing that they could not have me, they let me go. But they also cannot bear to hurt me. All they can do is get their money’s worth back.”

Martell’s rant stopped and he growled. “That very night I forced a whole bottle of moonshine into his gullet and emptied another all over his body. Then pushed his body over a cliff.”

“The next day I told my uncle’s family that he was attacked by a bear after drinking too much and fell to his death. After that, I sold myself to the slave trader and used the money to pay for my father’s debt. Since then I spent my days a slave, while knowing that sometimes my body would be controlled by that 'thing' inside me.”

After speaking out those secrets he buried in his heart, Martell exhaled and fell to all fours. Heaving and retching as if he was a dog. He wiped the sour liquid from his lips and looked at Connie.

“…I will not pity you. Pitying you means nothing. To me and to you.”

In his heart, Martell nodded in agreement. Yes. He did not need pity. Even if people pitied him, what could they do? They were nothing more than spectators watching him dance in a little cage. They would speak niceties empty of meanings.

Connie rubbed her chin with a knowing smirk. It was as if her earlier anger was nothing but a dream. “Now I know what you are. And I know why you are so easily possessed.”

“And yes…just as you suspected. You are a disgusting monster who could not feel what normal humans feel. You feel no remorse, no guilt. You are empty, devoid of attachment. Even attachment to life. That is why your will is so weak and you are so easily possessed."

"Without empathy, and very much incapable of love. Yes…you are but a husk in the form of a beastfolk.”

“W-what? M – mistress! What are you saying?!” he stood aghast. He was expecting kind, encouraging words. Instead he was being berated ruthlessly.

“Now, do you know why I said I am disappointed in you?”

“N-no…?!” he replied. By this point he was unsure of everything.

“Because you are too half-hearted! Too meek! If you want to be a bastard, you should commit to that role!!”

“W-what?”

“You are clever. But you are too afraid of using this talent of yours,” she continued. “I know your type. Yes…I know it well. Some of my greatest enemies and at least two of my fellow heretics were similar in this regards. They were scum of the earth. And yet they were also some of my best friends. Others may not know what you desire, even you yourself. But I know.”

Martell stared at her in disbelief. “Mistress, you are speaking nonsense.”

“Nonsense, you say. But am I correct to say that you have never felt happy?”

“…”

“And even to your past masters, you see them as tools, don’t you?”

“H-how?”

“Rest assured. I am familiar with this. The bad news is…indeed, you may not be able to feel truly happy…but you can feel pleasure, can’t you?”

“P-pleasure?!” he half yelled. “I’ve had sex with both men and women! And I still feel nothing!”

“I’m not talking about that kind of pleasure, Martell. I’m talking about the pleasure of the soul! Something like music, or a good poem, or good food, or even lording it over those you hate.”

Connie did not miss the sudden glint in his eyes.

“Ah, I hit the nail with the last one, didn’t I?” Connie said. “Those people were also like you. Manipulative bastards who use their cunnings to gain opportunities by tricking others. I do not blame them. Such paths do exist, but it is a dangerous path. As one mistake would mean your death.”

Connie looked straight at him. “But you are going about this the wrong way.”

“Unfortunately, you are too weak. So, you had to do what you did. You use your body to gain knowledge from your past masters. One could say that this is one of the many ways you can survive. But if we see it from another perspective, this resignation to fate, this…act of giving your body to your masters to survive is the action of the weak. Surely you know that what you did is the opposite of what you desire.”

Martell was captivated by the words that she was saying. He felt wronged as she denied his way of life, thrashed it mercilessly. And yet it did not matter to him. As he now realized that he had found someone who understood him.

“I can give you what you desire, my boy," she said with words as sweet as honey and as dangerous as poison.

"I can give you power. The power to become superior to those who looked down upon you,” her fingers dug into the wooden table as if they were paper. “Yes…I can give you such…pleasure of the soul. For a price.”