Chapter 51: Black Fangs Shelter (4)
Perhaps the Emperor’s Might possesses some hidden abilities.
Like a power that significantly enhances the persuasiveness of one’s words when addressing their comrades.
If not, there’s simply no explanation for it.
‘Everyone just follows me so well.’
So I declared, “Let’s go save people in the name of Black Fangs.”
Not a single soul bothered to ask me why.
Not one person questioned why we were using the name of Black Fangs.
They all just nodded with expressions that suggested, ‘It’s about time.’
‘Really, I’m lucky to have such devoted comrades.’
To have so many companions who support me unconditionally is perhaps a rare fortune.
With that thought, I smiled contentedly and turned to check on the children.
“Is everyone keeping up?”
A sharp response echoed back.
After a quick headcount, I confirmed that everyone was indeed present.
We had to take a rough path to avoid drawing attention, but luckily, no one had fallen behind.
The kids appeared lively, even while we were crossing this steep mountain, a testament to their training.
Everyone except Miss Rubia, who was busy working at the mansion, was marching in unison under my command.
Seeing dozens of people following me filled me with a sense of nostalgia.
Especially because of the attire we wore.
Our black robes had somehow transformed into our uniforms.
On top of that, we had received extra disguising masks from Asher, who generously opened his warehouse for us.
We were a group donning animal masks and black hoods—a truly mysterious sight.
It was the very embodiment of the Black Fangs.
In fact, we might even look more like the Black Fangs than the actual group does.
Moreover, the task we were about to undertake involved distracting attention from Miss Rubia by launching propaganda attacks against the Empire and the Holy Church.
We were opposing the two enemies of the Black Fangs.
‘I should really get a bow from the leader of the Black Fangs.’
It all fell into place by sheer coincidence, but ultimately, I was the one who ardently supported the Black Fangs.
Helping out so much, yet I had never glimpsed the leader’s face. I started to feel like they were a bit stingy.
‘At this rate, the least they could do is treat me to a meal.’
Caught up in such trivial thoughts, I knelt and placed my hands on the ground.
Spreading my mana—wider, ever wider.
Topography.
Trees and bushes.
The shapes of animals dwelling there.
All of these entered my mind.
And as I extended my energy even further…
I began to sense it.
A variety of refuse and debris, shabby houses made of planks, corpses strewn in corners, and people wholly indifferent to them.
‘Found it.’
The slums.
Our destination was right ahead.
A natural smile crept onto my face.
It was the time to operate the shelter in the name of the Black Fangs.
*
“That little shit….”
With those words, a man with a twisted, furious expression looked down on the girl.
Thick, dark red drops fell from his fist onto the ground.
It was the blood she coughed up earlier when he hit her.
But in this bleak situation, no one paid attention to the girl or the man.
People merely took a quick glance before hastily continuing on their way with stone-faced expressions.
It wasn’t unusual.
This was the slums.
No one cared about anyone else here.
Anyone who did wouldn’t last long.
Everyone was too preoccupied with keeping themselves alive to worry about others.
This was simply mundane.
A pickpocketing girl caught red-handed and mercilessly beaten.
Such incidents were practically routine around here.
The man, his face livid with rage, punched her in the face, kicked her in the stomach, and stomped down on her fallen arms.
A wave of horrendous pain coursed through her.
But she made no sound.
She had endured this before and knew that if she stayed quiet, the beating would likely end sooner.
“What kind of freak doesn’t even make a sound?” the man spat out, annoyed, before finally walking away, carelessly spitting onto the ground.
Her complete lack of reaction seemed to unnerve him.
Thus, she survived another day.
Her entire body throbbed. Moving brought sharp waves of agony. Yet the girl shrugged it off and got to her feet.
She staggered down the street.
A battered girl wandering lazily along.
Of course, no one offered her a sympathetic glance. No one cared.
“If anyone needs help, we are always here to…”
Strangely enough, today, there appeared to be even more shady characters about.
Several children in black robes were meandering around, spouting nonsensical comments.
They claimed to offer free treatment for the sick,
and to distribute food for free.
But the girl wasn’t foolish enough to be tricked by such antics.
This was the slums.
A place where survival meant taking from others.
In a place like this, speaking about helping or asking people to reach out for assistance—no one genuinely means it.
The girl cautiously made her way home, evading their attention.
A ramshackle shack on the verge of collapse.
Once she entered, she spotted her mother.
“I’m back.”
She announced.
But there was no warm greeting in return.
There couldn’t be.
Late-stage mana poisoning.
Her mother could no longer move correctly.
Two months ago, she lost her ability to walk.
A month ago, she could barely speak.
The illness had even affected her mind.
No matter what the girl asked, her mother would respond only with silence.
“Mom, I’m really struggling.”
But no gentle, comforting words, as in the past, awaited her.
Only a blank stare from what could hardly be called her mother anymore, a vacant shell.
“I… I’m really, really struggling.”
Her vision blurred.
She felt tears streaming down her cheeks.
Until now, she had managed.
No matter how wretched life was, she believed they could pull through together.
However… no matter how hard she pushed, life only got worse.
She had imagined her mother contracted the illness while mining mana stones without any protective gear for her sake.
The disease only continued to worsen.
It was overwhelming, trying to care for her mother and shoulder the burden of both their lives alone.
She couldn’t even recall the last time she had eaten a proper meal.
Her body was utterly ravaged, but to survive, she had to battle on for another day.
It was agonizing.
So deeply agonizing.
And there was no one to lean on.
“I’m sorry. I must be a truly terrible daughter.”
The girl’s voice trembled as she spoke.
She had always relied on her mother, turning to her with childish complaints.
And now, in her hour of need, she found her former reliance unbearable.
Disgustingly so.
She couldn’t silence those thoughts.
“It’s too hard.
It feels like dying would be a relief.”
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
With those words, her hand grasped a shard of glass from her pocket.
She couldn’t envision living like her mother.
She lacked the strength of her mother, who had endured so harshly to raise her in this dismal slum.
Her body still throbbed painfully.
Her left arm, crushed by that man, would not move as it should.
She couldn’t endure any longer.
So…
“Forgive me. Please…”
She uttered as she gazed into her mother’s eyes.
Ironically.
Even without speaking, those eyes always seemed to weaken her resolve.
A futile flicker of hope that things might improve someday, that happiness could someday touch their lives, washed over her.
So, time and again.
Even though she sought to end her life, she couldn’t.
But now… she could bear it no longer.
Life was merely turmoil.
Regardless of her efforts, things never got better.
So, even though it was selfish.
Even though she understood that she shouldn’t.
She couldn’t quiet the thoughts of escaping.
It was in that moment, just as she was about to cut her wrist.
“…I’m glad I followed you.”
A voice rang out.
Someone swiftly snatched the shard of glass from her hand.
Before her… stood the boy she had seen earlier.
A white-haired boy in a black robe.
Behind his wolf mask, his blue eyes gazed back at her.
“I didn’t think you heard me before, so let me ask again. Do you need help?”
The mysterious boy extended a hand towards her, while she sat on the ground, tears streaming down her face.
And, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he added he would help her whether she wanted it or not.
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