Chapter 9: Death and Rescue!
The alley was not deep, but it was dark.
The high walls on both sides shut out the sunlight completely. Only a sliver of sky showed overhead, throwing pale light down onto the puddles and moss on the ground below. The air was thick with the smell of rot and mildew, mixed with something that turned the stomach worse.
Lakyus stood at the far end of the alley.
In front of her stood a fat man.
Baron Livian. His face was so distorted by fat that his features had all lost their proper shape, and at this moment they were twisted into a disgusting expression: surprise, and then amusement.
"And where did this little girl come from?"
His hand was still gripping a thin, small figure. A little girl, clothes ragged, dusty face streaked with dried tears, eyes so red they looked ready to bleed. She was curled up, trembling all over, unable even to cry anymore.
"Let her go."
Lakyus's voice was not loud, but it rang clear and sharp through the narrow alley.
The Baron paused. Then he laughed.
The laugh was rough, like a broken bellows leaking air.
"What did you say?"
"I said--"
Lakyus took a step forward.
She raised her head. Those pale green eyes were burning with something. That young face was full of a solemnity that had no business being there on a six-year-old.
"--In the name of justice, I command thee. Release that child."
The Baron's laughter stuck in his throat.
He stared at the little girl in front of him: the fine clothing, the neat braids, and that gaze completely at odds with her age, looking down at him. Whose noble daughter was this? Was she out of her mind?
"Do you have any idea who I am?" He narrowed his eyes, a threatening edge in his voice. "Baron Livian, nobleman of the Kingd-- ugh!"
The words weren't finished. A foot had connected with his fat shin.
Not hard. Even quite light.
But the Baron's expression changed.
Not from pain. Because this girl had actually dared to hit him.
Lakyus withdrew her foot, tilted her face up, and spoke word by word.
"You pig-faced demon sunk into the depths of depravity, bullying the weak, harming the innocent -- such evil deeds cannot be forgiven by heaven or earth. I, Lakyus, swear upon the sword in my hand--"
She raised her hand.
There was nothing in it.
She didn't notice. She kept reciting.
"--I shall bring every demon like you down with my blade, as an offering to the righteousness and justice you have trampled!"
At the mouth of the alley, Lucian arrived just in time to catch the last line.
He froze completely.
...What on earth?
He stood looking at his sister: standing in a dark alley, facing a fat baron with a face full of blubber, empty-handed, reciting lines apparently copied word for word out of some knight novel, that young face full of solemnity and holy conviction.
The corner of Lucian's mouth twitched.
That "so cool" from a moment ago echoed in his head, like a loud slap to the face.
"Take it back," he murmured. "I take all of it back."
This wasn't cool.
This was...
'CHUUNIBYOU!'
He screamed it inside his head.
She wasn't even the right age yet! In the original work, Lakyus was a chuunibyou team captain, but not to this extreme! Lines like this were supposed to wait until puberty! She was six years old!
"No way..."
No way I accidentally accelerated her chuunibyou development.
That thought had barely finished forming when the Baron's voice came back from the alley, livid with wounded pride.
"You little brat--!"
He released the girl, swung up his thick palm, and brought it down at Lakyus in a hard, sweeping slap.
Lakyus tried to dodge.
But she was six years old. Her warrior level was lower than Baron Livian's. The blow was fast and vicious, and she had no time to react.
The crack of it rang through the alley. Lakyus's small body flew backward, struck the wall, and slid softly to the ground.
"Lakyus--!"
Lucian's ears rang.
He charged into the alley.
The Baron was breathing hard, staring at the small, curled figure on the ground. The anger on that fat face had faded, replaced by something far worse.
His gaze settled on Lakyus.
Light blue dress covered in dirt, the white ribbon at her collar undone, golden braids disheveled across the ground. That small face bore a red, swollen palm print. A trace of blood at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were half-open, still trying to push herself up.
The Baron's expression shifted.
Became sticky, clouded, the way some reptile fixes its eyes on prey.
"Since she's a noble daughter..." He wet his lips. "Then all the more-- ugh!"
His words were cut off again.
This time, by a hand.
A small hand, gripping his sleeve with everything it had.
Lucian stood in front of him.
"Baron, sir." Lucian's voice was perfectly calm, far too calm for a child who had just watched his sister get struck down. "Please compose yourself."
The Baron looked down at this boy who had appeared from nowhere. About the same age as the girl, same coloring, same features. Twins? He narrowed his eyes, the fat in his face shifting.
"And who are you?"
"Her brother." Lucian released the sleeve and stepped back half a pace, bowing slightly. "Lucian Alvein Dale Aindra."
His posture was humble to exactly the right degree.
"My sister is young and doesn't know better. For disturbing you, Baron, I sincerely apologize."
The Baron stared at him.
The boy's demeanor surprised him. Not anger. Not tears. An apology?
He turned the Aindra name over in his mind. Old Kingdom nobility. Count. More than one rank above a titular baron like himself.
More wariness crept into the Baron's expression.
"Aindra?" He chewed over the name, the fat in his face shifting again. "The Count's children?"
His gaze moved back and forth between Lucian and Lakyus. Those small, murky eyes held a calculating flash. Then he smiled, a smile carrying the particular confidence of a man who thinks himself untouchable.
"Kid. Do you know whose man I am?"
He bent down, leaning his bulk toward Lucian, and dropped his voice.
"'Eight Fingers.' Ever heard of it?"
Lucian's pupils contracted, barely visibly.
The Baron straightened, satisfied to see hesitation appear on the boy's face. He brushed off non-existent dust from his sleeve, let his guard down, and resumed his lordly air.
"Since it's the Aindra brat being thoughtless, today's matter, I can--"
Before the words were out, a small knife had passed through the Baron's fat chest.
Blood welled out, warm, viscous, running down the blade to Lucian's hand.
The Baron's eyes went wide, that fat face still frozen in the self-satisfaction of a moment ago. His mouth worked. A rattling sound came from his throat. Then he went over backward like a sack of wet mud.
Thud.
The dull sound rolled through the alley.
Lucian stood there, looking at his blood-covered hand.
Lakyus was naive. Far too innocent.
The reason Lucian had killed Baron Livian was simple: the man had hurt Lakyus. He had earned his death.
There was also another reason.
Better this than letting the Baron hold a grudge and go stirring trouble with Eight Fingers.
Better to...
Lucian raised his head and looked at the little girl curled against the wall, the one Lakyus had just saved.
Kill the Baron, then frame her for it.
The truth didn't matter. After Eight Fingers punished the "true culprit" and recovered their dignity, they would leave the Aindra family alone. Each side would stay out of the other's way.
But Lucian found that Lakyus was already standing in front of the little girl, brave as any knight.
He couldn't bring himself to meet Lakyus's eyes.