Chapter 11.2

Chapter 11.2

‘Did she say her name was Emma?’ he asked himself.

He didn’t want to remember anything, but the woman’s information was already in his head, which never forgot anything even if he was drunk.

Emerlin Herman, a traveller who departed from Summerville. Her last destination was Polarville. An heiress, betrayed and chased after by her former servants. lrwin was irritated at himself for listening to the long narrative of a woman, who knocked on an unfamiliar house in the middle of the night and begged for help during a storm.

‘Traitors should be killed as quickly as possible. That’s a fair reason, yet she’s being hunted rather than killing them,’ he muttered.

Irvan couldn’t understand, but he couldn’t understand a lot of things in this world either. This woman’s experience was one of those typical incidents.

It didn’t matter if it was true or not, of course. Even if Emma was a con artist who tried to flee after stealing the butler’s and nanny’s belongings, the outcome would be the same.

His eyes were droopy as he looked out the window. The stone window frame was blocked by thick metal, so it could no longer operate as a window, but the warehouse was placed across, and Irvan could get a better view.

There was a horrible slaughter not long ago…

Sling! Crimson blood gushed from the traces drawn by the sword as it slashed through the air and rang a loud ring. Several men split into two and surrounded Irvan.

Moments later, men who were just waiting to attack were crushed into bits of meat. Irvan had a habit of counting the bodies. There were seven heads on the floor.

‘Not fun at all. The outcome was not what I thought,’ was all he could think.

Since they were hired as knifemen for robbery, he expected them to be skilled even though they were not part of the official soldier troupe. Irvan did not imagine them to be as vicious as a werewolf, but he did expect them to leap out of the water like fresh fish. He was surprised when they fell like scarecrows at the end of his sword.

“Please save me! Please understand my situation,” one of the men pleaded. When all the hired swordsmen were slain in a second, a man named Otto was overpowered with fear and began to lie flat and plead. He cried with a runny nose and talked about something, but Irvan didn’t bother to hear him.

Irvan saw him lying flat and shaking pitifully in a puddle of his own urine and swung the sword mercilessly at him.

Sling! The head of the fallen neck gushed blood like a fountain and rolled around the soil. There was a piercing scream from behind him. A terrified middle-aged woman sat on the ground, shook her head as if she had lost her mind, yanked her hips back, and trembled.

‘Her name’s Dora, right?’ he asked himself. The cold gaze of Irvan was set on the next target.

“P-please help me. I’m obviously a victim. It’s extremely unjust. Please, I’ll tell you everything. Let me tell you what’s going on here,” Dora pleaded, but Irvan let the noise pass through one ear.

Dora, who had been anxiously repeating the words like a played song just to save her life, crouched down in a corner and began to howl like a lunatic. She realized that her words were useless and suddenly pulled up her skirt.

She gave a naughty look while grinning, showing him her thighs.

“I’ll do anything. It doesn’t matter if it’s terrible. I can fulfill your needs in a number of ways,” she said while still smiling at him.

Irvan, of course, was uninterested in the strange woman’s remarks. There was no sense for that. When he gently flicked his wrist, the vicious sword lunged forward, yearning for more blood.

Crack… Irvan slowly lowered his eyes and studied the intense sensation that spread down to his fingertips. The more he savored it, the more thrilling the sense of intoxication went around the blood vessels and soared to his heart.

His constant desire to kill.  The thirst for blood, defined by the doctor as an obsession, was now satisfied.

“Haha!” he laughed triumphantly. He was in a highly peaceful psychological state after satisfying his desire for bloodshed.

He had swung his sword sufficiently to quench his hunger for blood, like a beast who became generous after being content with hunting, thus there was no dissatisfaction or desire at the moment.

He was just simply thirsty at the time. He scanned the table floor for another bottle and noticed bite marks on his fingers. He used to bite his fingers to satisfy his thirst for blood when he couldn’t control it due to sudden madness, but tonight Irvan knew he was completely pleased and could easily go asleep.

Now his attention shifted from his wound-covered fingers towards the front.

The woman tripped and fell to the living room floor. This woman was very strange. It appeared as if she had suddenly risen from the ground, but as soon as the physical distance narrowed, the woman’s scent captivated Irvan for a brief period and left him frozen.