novelEvil Surrounds
| ← Ch.11 | Ch.13 → |
Again, this hasn't been checked. It is mostly my fault as I have been out of contact with the lovely folks at OCY due to various things that I have been prioritizing in my life. The last chapter had some errors in it that I know about, but I have yet to confirm the entire thing has been checked, so for now I will wait before posting the OCY chapters. Be aware that the ch 11 and the ch 12 on this site are slightly inaccurate.
I have some extra stuff planned for later too. It might not work though, because I don't understand how wordpress works. Also, no more braces, apparently they aren't needed.
Grohl, victorious in the battle on the highway, planned to continue to pursue the fleeing rebels northward to recapture Rockbell. The rebel army, having already been routed, could no longer put up a suitable fight, so the area controlled by Rockbell would almost unbelievably easily return to Coimbran rule. Having heard from the citizens of Rockbell the sorts of atrocities that the rebels had committed, Grohl had already ordered the execution of all prisoners.
"Leaving aside if, for example, Bahar was behind it all, the gross injustice of rising up against one's fellow countrymen absolutely cannot be forgiven. Do not have a shred of sympathy, and strike them down! Kill those bandits who escaped today if you have to hunt them to the ends of the earth!"
"Viceroy, please wait for a short while. Your anger may be too much for the heart to bear, but there is no use arguing against the reasons that you cannot kill them all."
Perius, a civil official, admonished Grohl's overly excessive method. While it was certainly true that the wages for the crimes committed in Rockbell were death, simply ordering a mass execution without taking into account the state of the troops would not serve to fully uproot the remaining evil.
"Shut up, Perius! After seeing that wretched scene, how dare you say such a thing!"
Grohl placed his hand on the sword that hung from his waist, infuriated that someone would defend the rebels, but Perius responded indifferently.
"Then, those who were captured in Rockbell will be executed on top of having experienced the horrors of the sacking. How about a plan to provide clemency to those who participated in a rebellion that could not be stopped? Of course, each would be individually judged, and I think that, where appropriate, conscription would be a suitable punishment."
"And let them slip through my hands!? Originally, the participation in a rebellion was already a heinous crime. If I'm too soft on them now, a second disaster shall arise!"
"Despite the fear it would cause, that isn't quite right."
"What exactly is wrong!?"
"There is evidence that the majority of those who joined the rebellion did so under duress. Indeed, Ristih is the one most deserving of punishment, there is no mistaking that. If the Viceroy is to behead even these pitiful souls, will not that very fact cause a second, or even a third rebellion?"
Grohl hesitated to the end, yet—not for Perius' sake, but because the other officials were also of the same opinion—he withdrew his plan to execute every rebel. If the remaining rebels obediently surrendered, then they could all be given the gift of clemency, and an announcement was made, absolving all those villages that had fallen under the influence of the rebel army.
At first there were many who were suspicious of deception, but as the truth of the proclamation came to be known, the soldiers of the Red Circle Army surrendered to Coimbra one after the other. Because their leader Ristih had been captured, and because there was no one else in the Red Circle Army capable of command, the Red Circle Army had already collapsed as a military. Most of the surrendered were spared so that they could return to their villages, but there were exceptions: the ones who had subdued Rockbell. The surviving citizens had not forgotten the faces of the pillagers, and their hatred spewed forth as they enumerated their various crimes. After the hearing, an informal trial briefly usurped Coimbra's state law, and all the prisoners of war held in Rockbell were given the same sentence: decapitation.
Cynthia and Noel were cautiously walking through the streets of Rockbell, which was once again flying the Coimbra scales. It appeared that their mission was to be on watch for any remaining refugees in the city, and they were accompanied by several soldiers. In fact, it was simply that Noel had found herself some free time and had suggested that they go on a stroll.
"Awww, it's even more abandoned than the city, isn't it. Nothing's interesting..."
"It's recently been brutally pillaged so it can't be helped. Still, it is a tragedy that this could be done by fellow countrymen, hometown aside. I still have a hard time believing it."
Cynthia furled her eyebrows as she gazed upon the city of scattered rubble. The clearing of corpses had yet to be completed, and the stench was yet dreadful still. The eyes of the girls who sat there were dull, and the faces of the men bore only hatred and sorrow. Nowhere to be seen was there any trace of what had been, only one week before, a beautiful city.
"You say fellow countrymen, but they'd never met, or even spoken to each other before, right?"
"But..."
"More so than killing one person whose face you recognise, I think it's relatively easy to kill several hundred that you don't know. After all, it isn't long before you forget."
"That isn't true! You're being way too extreme!"
"Is that so~. I don't really care what happens to people I don't know, so aren't other people like that too? That's why everybody can be so cruel, you know. Well, such is the way of the world, and it can't be helped, eh?"
Noel was gently smiling. Compared to her usual smiles, something cold seemed to be present.
"Wha-what can't be helped!? That sort of behaviour can never be forgiven! We... humans are not beasts!"
"Yup. So from now on I'll execute those beasts as a proud human, okay."
Noel lightly tapped her finger, and nodded conclusively.
"Could it be that you want to defend the criminals? Like I said, those sorts of things..."
"Eh? I don't want to help them at all though..."
Noel's response was pointedly indifferent.
Jeers and angry voices steadily grew louder in the direction of the plaza. Cynthia turned to walk in that direction, and Noel casually followed along. There were several Coimbran soldiers in the plaza who had created an impromptu execution ground. Lining its perimeter were the people of Rockbell. Their angry jeers and harsh tones were directed endlessly at the rebel soldiers. With them was the figure of the Kraft from Zoim. Kraft had taken part in the push for the commander's tent along with Fraser, but he had fled to Rockbell as he had been separated from Fraser during the melee, and, therefore, had no idea what to do. As the rebel corpses piled up, Kraft's imminent death loomed ever nearer. Though he had been drunk on blood and violence, at heart he remained a coward. There was no way he could have mustered the will to fight to the bitter end. When Coimbra had descended upon Rockbell, he had been the first to throw down his sword and surrender.
Cynthia, Noel, and the accompanying soldiers split the crowd as they entered the execution grounds. Mirut had been ill at ease, and so had followed Noel on her walk. Noticing them, the garrison troops straightened up and saluted.
"Good work Commander of One Hundred Cynthia!"
"Yes, good work. We are currently on watch. Have you encountered anything abnormal?"
"No sir, not in particular! There is one rather loud POW, but he won't be noisy much longer."
Looking in the direction that the soldier was indicating, they saw the site at which criminals were brought to the guillotine. They did not hear any cries, and once the prisoner had been restrained, the executioner held his axe as he waited for orders.
"N-no, help me! I'm really just a normal farmer! Please spare me!"
"Death to the guilty!"
"Kill the enemy!"
At the angry voices of the crowd, the guillotine's blade swiftly fell. The rebel's head rolled forward into the bucket they had prepared for it, and blood was spewing from the body that remained. The soldiers quickly removed it, and brought forward the next criminal. The next one was unusually large, and it took several men to restrain him.
"O-oi Noel, that, isn't that Kraft? Look, with that face and that huge build there's no mistake!"
Mirut let out a loud voice.
Having heard it, Kraft begged loudly for mercy, crying, "Ah, aaah!! It's Mirut and Noel right! P-please help me! I'm pleading for my life! At this rate, at this rate they'll kill me!"
"Noel, do you know him?"
"Yup, he was an ally once, so I know him I guess. He's Kraft from Zoim village, but he's an enemy now so it doesn't matter."
Noel didn't express much interest, and gave an indifferent response. She was so cold that Mirut found himself unwittingly yelling at her.
"O-oi! Wasn't he also forced into participating in the rebel army!? Sir Cynthia, can't you do something to save him!?"
"If it wasn't for what happened to Rockbell, I probably could have. All the rebels here are forbidden clemency by the order of the viceroy. Unfortunately, my authority is not enough to spare him. Not only that, I doubt I'd be able to persuade the crowd."
Cynthia shook her head. If they untactfully pardoned anyone, the wrath of the people would likely turn on Coimbra. That was why it was best to ruthlessly sacrifice all the prisoners captured in the city. There was also no mistaking that he had been one who had violently pillaged and slaughtered as much as he could. She held no sympathy for him.
"That... Hey, Noel, are you really going to just watch him die!?"
"It can't be helped, Mirut, because Kraft made his choice and lost. And it's also true that he did some terrible things to the people here. So I think it can't be helped that they take revenge, right?
"It, it can't be helped?"
"Then, Mirut, if your precious little sister Cal had been tortured and killed, would you still say the same thing?"
"Tha-that's..."
"Well, would you say the same thing? Would you?"
"..."
Noel's smile vanished and she expressionlessly watched Mirut. She knew his response, but after hearing that, had he understood how out of place his suggestion had been? Or had he not put much thought into it at all? Cynthia could not understand him. She did, however, think what Noel had said was correct. Those who commit atrocities had to be prepared to receive just payment. If the rebels wished to avoid that fate, they had no choice but to continue winning. That was why the defeated Kraft was being given his reward.
"Hate the sin, not the sinner, eh? Those are incredibly kind words from some country somewhere, but it's difficult to actually do, isn't it? After all, you can't just tell yourself to stop hating."
Noel looked up at Mirut's face, telling him second hand information.
"Sorry Kraft. You have done some things that no person should ever do. So I can't help you after all."
With a face like he had just bitten something sour, Mirut averted his gaze.
"No! No, I don't want to die! Please h-help me!!"
Kraft was forced to the guillotine, but, due to his large build, his head did not properly fit. Furthermore, as he was struggling with all his might, his head did not line up cleanly with the guillotine's blade. The soldiers and the executioner hurriedly put all their weight behind their efforts to restrain him.
"..."
"Let's go, Noel. We don't need to watch to the end."
Cynthia, worried about Noel, suggested they distance themselves from the area, but Noel's legs didn't seem willing to move.
"Hey, Cynthia."
"What?"
Noel expressionlessly watched Kraft struggle and asked, "Kraft, do you want me to kill you?"
"Don't say that. You don't need to burden yourself with unnecessary sins. Killing a former companion is something you'll have to bear far into the future."
"One more won't change anything. Come on, may I?" Noel earnestly requested.
It didn't seem like he could be coaxed into compliance, or fully pacified. Cynthia, after some deliberation, nodded.
"Thanks."
Noel drew the hammer from her belt and carefully approached the guillotine. The hammer that was as large as a sword held great weight. After lightly flourishing it, she tightened her grip.
"Hey, can I come over there?"
"Wh-what are you..."
"I am Noel, Leader of Ten. See, here's my insignia."
"P-pardon me! We'll quickly subdue him, so please wait a moment!"
"I'll do it after you're done, so I'll just come a little closer."
"That's..."
"Cynthia, Commander of One Hundred, gave her approval, so..."
Pushing his way past the soldiers, having been released from his constraints, Kraft rushed to Noel's feet.
"Help me, Noel. I don't want to die, I don't want to die!"
"Yup, I'm helping you now. See, raise your face and look me in the eyes."
Kraft looked up with tears streaming down his face. He couldn't see her face well, for the sun's rays that shone into his eyes. A cold hand gently brushed aside his tears. It gave off a chillingly icy feeling. Kraft's raging agitation died down. It was as though he had never heard her mention her intent to kill him. All he could hear was his own breathing, and Noel's voice.
He grasped Noel's left hand, which had been on his cheek, in both of his own, "Uuuu, thanks, really, thank you, Noel. Why did I do those terrible things? Surely, I was different somehow back then."
"It's okay now, soon you won't be afraid anymore... okay, Kraft?
"Noel?"
"Bye bye."
In the rays of the sun, Noel's face softened. It was the last thing that Kraft saw. The hand behind Noel's back brought the hammer crashing down on Kraft's skull. At the same time that the sound of crushing could be heard, chunks of his brain scattered like the contents of a fruit had burst open. Soon thereafter, as Noel basked in the sun, she became dyed with splotches of red and fragments of brain. Seeing her lurid figure, the once menacing throng too, had their breath taken away. Glancing once at them in a bored manner, Noel returned to Cynthia.
"Thanks, Cynthia. Ahaha, that was a bit soft, eh?"
"You're... really different."
While she seemed about to say, 'You're absolutely mad, ' Cynthia hurriedly changed her words. After mopping up Noel's face with a handkerchief, she waved to the soldiers and left. There were still plenty of criminals remaining. If they lingered much longer, it seemed as though it would cause an uproar, and she wanted to leave before that happened. Cynthia did not have the intention of letting them see any more than what they had of that kind of scene.
"Hey..."
"What is it, Mirut?"
Mirut asked in a quivering voice, "If I had been in that position, would you have mercilessly smashed my skull?"
He had received quite a shock at Kraft's death. It was likely that because he was still a young man he had never had a person close to him die.
"Not at all. Because you're a companion after all."
"What does that mean?"
"I will absolutely never fail my companions. So if it seemed like you were going to die, I think I'd help. Yup, I'd have definitely helped. But Kraft was an enemy, you know. There's no need to help the enemy after all."
"..."
Noel said what she pleased as if it was obvious in response. She probably couldn't give Mirut a clear answer. That was because he strongly felt it was strange to be able to unhesitatingly kill other people, let alone an acquaintance.
"Oh yeah, speaking of that. You get it too, right Mirut?"
"Get what?"
"What happens if you don't find happiness. Yeah, I don't want to be like that, so I'm searching for the way to become happy. That's why we should search together, Mirut."
Noel was smiling.
I see, thought Cynthia, and she felt that her understanding of why Noel was so particular about finding happiness had become a little deeper. The girl did not understand what happiness was, and so she had fixated herself on discovering the methods of attaining happiness. To her it was likely that being unable to find happiness was akin to the cruelest of deaths.
While she unexpectedly felt that she might pity her, Cynthia derided herself by reminding herself that she was no different. She had become a knight to protect the prestige of her noble name; she took up the sword even though she was a woman. Of course she intended to be loyal to the viceroy, but the root of it all was the protection of her own self respect. It was a truly shallow motive. Cynthia was particular about the way of maintaining honour and pride. There was not much of a difference between herself and Noel.
I thought myself to be a suitable knight, but Noel's way is better than my own. I know because I've been defeated by the girl.
Noel looked at her, her expression asking if something was wrong, and Cynthia forced a smile that said that there wasn't a problem. Kraft's face, when he had been executed earlier, for some reason, floated through her mind. Noel claimed that was how people would end up if unable to find happiness, but was there really nobody who would try to save that young man in the end? At the very least, he had died painlessly. Cynthia thought that, in the world, dying with peace of mind was not particularly a happy thing.
Grohl left guards in Rockbell, and returned to Coimbra's capital. Having only been driven into a corner for a brief amount of time, he had safely exterminated the rebellion, succeeding so far as to capture the rebel leader, Ristih, alive. The victory could not be more complete. He hadn't been in as good a mood since just after his viceroy inauguration ceremony. He promptly summoned his retainers to hold the ceremony in recognition of merit during the recent subjugation war. It was originally abnormal to so greatly praise contributors in a subjugation, but he aimed to emphasise how Bahar had been backing the rebels. Having splendidly crushed their plans, he wished to strongly appeal to the viceroys of the other provinces and to his father, the current reigning emperor. He had already dispatched messengers to bring Amil's mistake to each province's attention. Next it was his turn; Grohl was incredibly enthusiastic, for having overcome his predicament, it was no longer just a dream that he could regain his position as the next emperor.
The Conferral of Honours awarded Wilm for routing the rebel army, and Grohl personally commented on each commander's merits, handing each a letter of commendation. Cynthia and Noel, who would not normally be allowed in, had managed to be present. They had received invitations from Grohl to attend at the castle. Cynthia was nervous once again, and her face had become stiff. Noel looked good in her favourite glasses.
"Commander of One Hundred, Cynthia Edrich. It is true that you disobeyed orders and abandoned your post, but had you not galloped in, my life may have been forfeited. With heartfelt gratitude, I applaud your work."
"Y-yes, sir. I-I'm gratefully, happy!"
"Your late father would be proud. For your meritorious actions, you have been elevated to the position of Senior Commander of One Hundred. Also, I award you this silver crown medal. From now on please work well for both my and Coimbra's sake."
The imperial guard respectfully handed her a medal engraved with her rank emblem, a balance scale, and a crown. Cynthia stiffly received it and saluted, blushing.
"F-from now on, I v-vow to work with complete devotion for the sake of the both the viceroy and Coimbra!!"
"That is good. Now, there is one more who has done work like we've never seen before. Leader of Ten, Noel, please come here."
Grohl's beckoning was remonstrated by Wilm, who was making a wry face.
"With all due respect, the birth of that one is unknown. Perhaps we should not be so unguarded."
"Hahaha, you're worrying again, Wilm. If she's aiming to take my head, there is surely a better time! Noel, don't hold back, and come over!"
Laughing, Grohl urged her on. Beside the throne, his son Elgar was waiting, watching Noel's composure that had come out of nowhere. Noel subtly waved at him, and the edges of Elgar's mouth rose into a smile. Glasses Noel completely looked like a different person, and Cynthia was, without a doubt, partially relieved. Noel walked slowly before Grohl, and docilely knelt. Cynthia watched it all with an incredibly worried gaze. Considering her unreserved personality, she was anxious about what Noel might do. If she was rude to the viceroy, it was likely she'd receive the death penalty. She could do nothing but pray that Noel continued to be docile.
"At first I could only see you as a regular civil official, and never expected you to have such martial skill. In my army, maybe only one or two can contend with your prowess. I am truly grateful."
For Grohl, not one to praise retainers, it was unusual. So surprised were the retainers that they unintentionally began to murmur. Grohl was a moody man who was quick to show his emotions, and he would let his grumbling and faultfinding slip from his mouth. He was of good birth, so he never approved of people, and a sense of superiority was constantly overflowing from his whole body. When things were going well he had the ability to captivate people, but at a single mistake he was arrogant beyond belief. That was why he had mostly lost the loyalty of his retainers. All eyes converged on Noel, Leader of Ten, whom Grohl so unreservedly praised.
"This one, a lone horseman, killed the enemy captain who held the initiative, and disrupted the enemy cavalry. Not only that, I saw her capture the detestable rebel leader, Ristih, alive. I witnessed that scene with my own eyes. I can personally guarantee that your martial ability is not a normal level."
Kneeling, Noel accepted the gratitude, "Thank you very much. Your kind words are too great an honour."
"I have heard that your efforts also played a role in the rescue of Sara and Elgar. Were it not for this most recent situation, that alone would have most likely been a great thing. If it is alright with you, would you be willing to serve Coimbra as a knight? I have prepared the position of commander of one hundred for you."
At Grohl's words, the room was filled with uproar. To give not only the status of a commander of one hundred, but also the status of knighthood to a girl of dubious birth was an exception among exceptions. Her youth aside, Cynthia too fell into that category, but she was succeeding her father's title. Noel had no backers, and only a month had passed since she had begun to serve.
"Despite those words, suddenly promotions could cause a disruption in the army. Furthermore, suddenly granting knighthood is too reckless. It would be best for now if Noel, Leader of Ten, focused on gaining experience."
A civil official remonstrated him, but Grohl kicked it aside.
"That's idiotic. What we need now is not propriety, but ability. This one's outstanding martial prowess is something that I want. Well, Noel? I don't think it is a bad offer."
Noel raised her head, and after thinking for some time, she nodded, "I will gladly accept."
"I see, you'll lend your services, eh! Well then, you can accept this rank insignia, and silver crown medal."
"Yes, sir."
"That, and as a knight you are permitted to have a surname. Do you have any ideas? If not I can give you some time to think."
"Vosheit. I would like to be named Noel Vosheit."
Noel had not appeared to think too hard before coming up with a name.
"Sir Noel Vosheit, then. Quite the meaningful surname. All right, so we can end the ceremony, Cynthia can inform you of the details. I have great expectations for your work."
"Thank you very much!"
Noel stood, and after a dashing salute, returned to beside Cynthia. Her briskly walking form was a different person after all, and Cynthia was only able to incline her head. The thought that if this was Noel's true self, she wouldn't be able to banter with her floated through her head. If that was the case she could nod her approval at Noel seeing through the enemy plan. Cynthia determined to find out for sure this time.
"Now the conferral of honours is over! Ristih, who we've captured, has talked about everything in regards to the conspiracy and its reliance on Bahar before being executed. I've said this before, but in the next several months our lot is likely to change greatly."
"Viceroy, what exactly are you talking about?"
A civil official enquired, his face in a scowl. He thought he knew, but he did not yet have confirmation.
"What we already know. If Bahar only observed our troubles, it would have been fine. We cannot allow Amil to evade the hammer I will bring down on him!"
However firm the evidence they had gotten from Ristih was, Bahar would do no less than deny all knowledge of the events. The emperor and the provincial viceroys might only slightly lessen Amil's good reputation in their gossip. Grohl, however, had no intentions of using the events to raise his own reputation. He was not motivated by things like boastfulness and pride, but by the fact that Amil had aimed for his wife and child. He had to repay Amil; that determination had already been made, and he continued to harden his heart. That was right, it was a war with Bahar. Not a minor skirmish, it had become a brutal contest to see which one would claim his place as the next emperor. The winner would rise to the position of emperor, and the loser would fall to ruin.
There was likely no way that his father Befnam would intervene until a large number of people were involved. There was no doubt that Befnam knew Bahar had backed the rebels. He probably tolerated it because he knew it was a plot to remove a political opponent; however, his faith in Amil, who had failed with the rebellion, should have lowered. It was true that Befnam loved Amil, but that was only because he saw great promise in him. Grohl too had been favoured before his failure as viceroy of Coimbra. In summary, if Grohl could show how he surpassed Amil, he could steal the position of future emperor. If one of his sons was to die, as long as peace in Horsheido remained, Befnam would be satisfied. From what he had experienced so far, Grohl understood that to the point of disgust.
"V-Viceroy! You'd be reckless! We and the Bahar administration are both of the same empire, and we are brethren! To turn your sword on..."
"The same empire? Brethren? Whose people do you think were sacrificed for those bastards' plan!? I need to have the will to teach that fool a lesson! Listen up, theorise every possible scenario and train zealously! The days when my Coimbra had a weak military are tales from the past!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
"With that, you're dismissed for today!"
Grohl stood up, hurling harsh words, and his retainers made a myriad of faces as they saluted. There were those whose faces flushed with excitement, those whose faces turned a deep blue, those whose mouths curled upwards with schemes, and Cynthia who seemed about to faint from the tension. Then there was Noel. Having endured the long meeting, her eyes teared up as she let out a great yawn. Fortunately, no one other than Cynthia had seen it, for the knights' conversations had died down and they had left.
Cynthia's fist went flying as usual, but enduring the pain, with a "Thanks for opening my eyes, " Noel produced a false smile.
"This idiot! Is there anyone who would yawn in such a place!"
"I won't relieve the tension if I stop. Because of all that difficult thinking, I yawned with my feelings of heartbreak. Sir Cynthia, could you please forgive me."
Noel put on a serious looking expression to accompany her serious sounding words. It was a performance that would probably fool anybody meeting her for the first time.
"Stop lying and apologising insincerely!"
"Sorry."
Noel quickly apologised. Cynthia's fist seemed about to fly after all.
"Still, aside from being somebody who excels in the military arts, you're even a knight and a commander of one hundred now. Seriously..."
"There's no hope for the future, eh."
The fist flew nimbly for Noel's head, and Noel clutched her head and crouched low.
"Listen well, Knight Noel. You've become a commander of one hundred who will lead men. Carve into your heart that you must now keep yourself dignified, and follow regulations!"
"I understand it really well!"
Standing up, and with an exaggerated nod, she pinned the rank insignia she had just received to her chest. The glittering and sparkling icon looked sharp. Showing it proudly on her chest, she met eyes with Cynthia as a vein bulged at her temple.
"You look very pleased, but I'm a senior commander of one hundred. In summary, it means that you still have to watch your words!"
"Yup, I understand from the bottom of my heart!"
Cynthia sighed, wondering if Noel didn't totally lack comprehension. After gently patting Noel on the back, she walked out while humming a tune.
"By the way, you easily came up with a surname. Did something interest you about the Vosheit name?"
"Nope, not really. But I couldn't think of anything else so I figured it was good enough, eh, Lord Edrich."
"That makes me uncomfortable, so call me Cynthia. Don't call me Lord either."
"I see. Yup, it's like that then. It's better if Cynthia is Cynthia, after all."
Noel floated a childlike smile with no trace of malice.
Together with Cynthia, she exited the castle. The sun's light glistened on her new decoration. Nodding in satisfaction, Noel began to run at a quick pace. It had been Cynthia's question earlier as to whether or not she really had only thought a little bit before deciding on her name. Worried that if she talked about it she may have been laughed at or even scorned, she had dodged the question without thinking. It was true, by using the Vosheit surname, she had given "meaning" to her own given name. She had the good name Noel, and the bad name Vosheit. A shadow was born behind each blinding beam of the sun. The sun created both light and shadow, and she wanted to create a name that brought the two things together. The name Noel was from the strange cat in the picture book. As Noel was a very suitable name, it was best to usually be referred to by it.
Then there was "Vosheit, " the name carved into Noel's bident. Written in a blood red design that, though it seemed about to wash away, would not be removed. Noel did not know what significance it had, but she thought that it couldn't be good. The spear was one of her treasures, but there was no mistake that it wasn't a wonder product. Conversely, it could only be thought of as an accursed weapon. It burned all those that touched it aside from Noel, and from time to time she felt that it was sucking in power. Furthermore, she had the feeling that she could hear something coming from it on the night after a rainy day. She felt like she would be pulled in by that strange voice that seemingly came from nowhere, so at those times she hurriedly went to sleep. More importantly, as long as she could endure it, it could produce fire, it didn't rust, it looked cool, and her hands had grown accustomed to it. It seemed like a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and because she did not understand its significance, she had figured that it would be fine if she made the sinister characters into her name.
"A name just for me? Everyone probably wanted one too."
Honestly, anything other than a number was okay with her. Whatever her surname was, her current self was still Noel after all. Noel had to continue on for everyone's sake. She had to hold on, hold on, and keep holding on until the very end; always advancing just like she promised she would.
Author's Note:
Noel Vosheit, Commander of One Hundred
Quite distinguished. She's become one with her own personal contingent of soldiers.
Each has his own salary, and because she must look after them, she shall be careful not to employ too many.
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