Episode 32 - Bizeth's Gambit 4

"GYAAAARGH—?!"

The fingers still reaching for the broadsword.
He stepped on them lightly with his free foot — the one not pinning the head — and ground them flat.
The unexpected pain tore a scream from Bizeth, and his subordinate immediately shouted:

"Y-you — stop that right now! If you do anything more—!"
"Why... are you saying that if the Phantom Fang Lord gets hurt, you'll give Whispermere the same wound? Something like that?"
"Th-that's right—!"

Kaftin smiled — the way a parent smiles watching a child arrive at the right answer.
Then he waved his hand in a loose, languid motion and began to applaud.

"Oh, oh oh oh! Wonderful! Finally! It only took you forty-three seconds after I crushed Bizeth's fingers to get there! You should be very proud of yourself!"
"You—!"
"Go ahead. Please. Let's play chicken with our hostages together. Crush a finger, tear off a toe... gouge out an eye and scream at him to chew it... let's all enjoy this together! Come on!"
"......! J-just let Lord Bizeth go!"
"No! Who do you think you are! This one is mine now! I'll do whatever I like with him! How dare you—!"

The casual way he was treating Bizeth as an object, grinning all the while, seemed to unsettle the subordinate enough that he grabbed the length of chain still wound around Whispermere and shook it, shouting:

"I've got nothing to gain from torturing this woman! Just do the damn hostage exchange already! You don't want to see anything happen to that pretty face of hers, do you?!"
"Hmm..."

The outburst made Kaftin bring a hand to his chin and genuinely fall into thought.
In the meantime, he pressed down more firmly on Bizeth's head to stop his struggling, grinding his face against the ground —

"I'm not sure. I don't really know what I want right now..."
"What kind of answer is that?!"
"Well, you see... there are always at least three voices in my head. Opinions, you might call them. Or personalities. Whatever they are, they're always talking, and whenever I need to make a decision, they all have to reach some kind of agreement."
"What?!"
"And right now those voices are in the middle of a disagreement. Sorry, but I'm going to need you to wait a little longer."

He was talking complete nonsense by any rational measure — and then, visibly, actually falling into deliberation.
The subordinate finally lost patience and struck Whispermere hard across the face.

"Ngh—!"
"There! Did you see that?! If you don't want things to get worse—!"
"Hey."
"......?!"

Kaftin's expression shifted — instantly and completely.
He stepped down again on the already-crushed hand.

"GYAAAARGH?! Wh-what—!"
"Put that hand down. I told you to wait until I've made my decision... do you have any idea what it means to ignore someone when they're talking to you? You worthless ape—!"
"Ngh—?!"
"Listen carefully. Hold. Until I have reached a decision and am ready to move this situation forward, nobody standing in this street moves or opens their mouth."
"What?! Who do you think you—!"
"This isn't a suggestion. It's an order. If you don't comply, I will pull the Phantom Fang Lord's head off his shoulders right here, right now — and you're fine with that?"
"......!"

The subordinate fell silent under the pressure of those eyes.

He could not begin to understand how this lunatic's mind worked — and not knowing how he would react meant he could not afford to do anything rash.

It was Whispermere who finally spoke, unable to hold back any longer.

"Kaftin... would you mind if I said something...?"
"I said keep quiet — wait, it's you."
"......?!"

He had been on the verge of snapping — and then visibly settled when he confirmed it was Whispermere's voice.

So he really did have something for her.
Bizeth swallowed quietly and watched for an opening.

"You said your opinions were divided just now..."
"Yes. It's gotten fairly complicated. I know time is pressing, but still..."
"Could you tell me what the options are?"
"......"

He shook his head in refusal. Whispermere pressed on.

"My life is on the line here too. I really do want to know. At least then I can mentally prepare myself for the possibility that I'm about to die."
"...Tch."

He looked around for a moment, thinking, then finally spoke.

"The first option... is exactly what that subordinate over there said. A straightforward hostage exchange."
"That's it! Let's just do the exch—!"
"You — shut up."
"Ngh—?!"
"I'm not talking to you. Keep quiet and listen...!"

He silenced the subordinate with a glare, then continued.

"The second option is to drag this out as a chicken game with the hostages... and enjoy the sound of Bizeth's screams alongside yours."
"......!"
"Ngh—?!"
"Yes... I'll be honest. The reason I made a rule about not harming women and children — it's not because I'm any kind of gentleman. Nothing so impressive."
"Then... why?"
"...Because if I ever let go of that rule and started using violence on women and children without restraint... I think I would become addicted to it. I think I would lose what's left of my reason entirely."
"......!!"
"What kind of—?!"

The subordinate stared between Whispermere and Kaftin in mounting horror.
Because the expression on the man's face was not the face of someone who found that thought disturbing.
He was grinning — the way someone grins imagining something they would deeply enjoy.

"Yes... if that happened, I couldn't call myself the human Kaftin anymore. I'd just be a howling beast with no shape..."
"Then why... why do you keep holding that impulse back...?"
"...Because of my master."
"......!"

He stared into the middle distance for a moment, quietly remembering. Then he sighed and went on.

"I mentioned I don't remember my past... my soul had already been completely shattered once. I had become an animal. That's why everything from that time, and before — only fragments are left. Nothing whole."
"......"
"The one who took me in and made it possible for me to exist as a person again was Vesren. My master."

It was starting to make sense to Bizeth now — why this man was so consumed by Vesren.

To take something that broken and shape it into a monster that still wore a human face — and then loose it on the world to cause them grief even after death.
Grudging as it was, he could almost admire the tenacity.

"I see."
"Yes. If I give up on being human again here... I turn my back on everything he taught me. That is the one thing I cannot do. Not ever. Not absolutely."

A subordinate, as if something had clicked:

"Then — the answer has to be the hostage exchange, doesn't it?"
"No. There's one more option."
"...What else could there possibly be..."
"The third."

Kaftin didn't speak immediately. Despite himself, the subordinate heard his own dry swallow echo in his ears.

"...I drag Bizeth along with me, drums and all, and I walk straight into the temple."
"...What?!"
"After which — the temple burns. The priests get slaughtered. The remaining three Gang Lords get their heads torn off alive and planted in front of my master's grave."
"Are you out of your mind—?! You think we're going to stand here and let that happen?!"
"You don't have a choice. Try anything and Bizeth dies."
"Ngh—! You're going to massacre us along with the priests anyway — what makes you think that threat is going to stop us?!"

He stepped forward, pressing like he was about to charge — Kaftin's smile only deepened.

"Oh...? You're coming? Good. Come on then. Go ahead and rush me while I'm in the middle of deliberating — make me hurry to a conclusion! But you'd better remember — I'm not the one escalating this situation. You are. Every bit of blame for what happens next lands on you!"
"Blame-shifting isn't going to work on me!"

He held his ground — but Kaftin simply shook his head.

"It's not blame-shifting. This responsibility has the Gang Lords' heads attached to it. The lives of everyone in that temple. One impulsive move from you and all of it gets destroyed — and you're telling me you can carry that weight? That you're prepared for that?"
"......!"
"Oh, and when this is all over, I'll be telling everyone I see — 'the reason things went this far was because of that subordinate of the Phantom Fang Lord's. He provoked me into a dangerous choice.' How about that? Starting to feel the reality of your situation?"

He was chuckling, visibly delighted by the mental image — and then his expression wiped clean and his teeth came together.

"Damn it! Because of you I've completely lost track of the deliberation I was in the middle of!"
"What?!"
"Blast it all. Can't be helped. I'll have to start the whole internal discussion from scratch..."
"W-wait — that thing you were saying—!"
"That's why I told you to keep QUIET!! If you'd just listened to me, none of this would be happening — I told you to shut up and you didn't, and now look where we are, you stupid ape—! KEEP QUIET!"

He screamed it — almost like a tantrum — then pressed his chin back into his hand and sank into deliberation again.

The subordinate stared at him with the expression of a man at his absolute limit, half-resigned, and adjusted his grip on his sword.
Either way, if this continued, the Phantom Fang Lord was in danger. The Gang Lords were in danger. This entire district was in danger.
To force Kaftin's hand — he needed to cut Whispermere's throat —

He glanced toward her — and she shook her head, motioning toward Kaftin with her chin.
Clearly telling him to wait for Kaftin's decision.

"No. I can't drag this out any further. I'm sorry, but your life—"
"If you do that... this entire district disappears."
"......!"
"In this place — no, in this entire city — I'm the only one Kaftin will actually talk to. If I die..."
"Ngh—!"

That force alone was clearly not going to stop him — that much was beyond obvious now.

Veilslayer had died learning that lesson. And now even Bizeth, widely considered a step above Veilslayer, had been subdued in a single unguarded instant.

If a monster like that was left to rampage without anything to hold him back —
This district would be finished. At minimum.

"Then do you have a better idea? If not—"
"...I do."
"...! Say it. Now."
"...Release me."
"...That's not happening."

Even if she was freed, there was no guarantee the lunatic would let Bizeth go.
If anything, he would probably take it as his opening, kill Bizeth, and charge the temple.

"I'll go to him myself. I'll talk him down and make the exchange happen. So please—"
"You heard what he was just saying. He's completely out of his mind. Talking to him isn't going to accomplish anything—!"
"Then why did he tell me everything just now, without any resistance...?"
"Ngh—!"

The subordinate looked between them — Kaftin, Whispermere — and brought his sword down lightly on her chains.
They split apart.

"Understand this. Your job is to make that man release Lord Bizeth and stand down without doing anything more. That's all."
"I understand."

He let her go through clenched teeth.
Whispermere steadied the tangled mess of fear and complicated feeling inside her and found, beneath it, a thread of relief.

This was not the moment to be calm.
Composure, forced or otherwise, would be the wrong signal to send to Kaftin.

He had always said it to her — be anxious in front of him. Distrust him, be on guard against him.
The proof was his to provide. All she needed to do was watch, uncertain.

The fact that he said it with such confidence meant it was the correct approach with him. She was sure of it now.

Not hiding the fear, not concealing the unease — she moved carefully toward him, head slightly lowered, and reached out to rest her fingertips lightly on his forearm as he muttered to himself, lost in thought.

"I said stay—!"

The hand that reflexively moved to close around her slender throat — stopped.

Because what was in front of him was not a subordinate of Bizeth's lunging in to attack.
It was Whispermere — no longer in chains — standing before him.

"...What does this mean?"

He turned immediately toward the subordinate, frowning.
Whispermere had come to understand it dimly — Kaftin always operated on the assumption that others would act within the range of what he had already anticipated. Like a man watching a squirrel run its wheel, content behind iron bars, he read every move of those who operated within the bounds of ordinary logic, always several steps ahead.

He enjoyed that. Which meant when something happened outside his anticipated range — like this — he either showed irritation or something closer to surprised interest.

"...It's as it looks. Kaftin. She's been released."
"Oh... a remarkably foolish choice."
"Is it?"
"Absolutely. You just made a choice that only works if you trust me."

Kaftin lifted the foot pinning Bizeth's head — just slightly.

"So stand back and watch. Watch what happens to people who trust others so carelessly...!"
"Ngh—?!"
"W-wait! Stop!"

—To be continued—