Chapter 211

In a small orphanage built halfway up a rural mountain, Damien and Van grew up. The director of the orphanage, who had lost a son to war, took in war orphans. The director was wealthy, and occasional donations came in; at a glance, the orphanage seemed to be in decent shape.

Well, if you excluded the fact that the director was a violent psychopath.

"Damn brat! Act like Willer, you're supposed to act like Willer!"

Willer was the name of the director's deceased son.

The director had taken in the orphans for one reason alone: he couldn't accept the fact that his son was dead. So, he raised substitutes. He called all the children in the orphanage "Willer." 

Both boys and girls had their hair cropped short and were forced to mimic Willer's mannerisms and speech. 

If anyone deviated even slightly,

Whack! Whack!

They were beaten senseless.

"My Willer wouldn't act like this! You'll be punished until you become Willer! It's your fault! Understand? It's your fault for not being Willer!"

The children in the orphanage all bore slap marks on both cheeks. 

This was because, when administering 'discipline,' the director would slap each cheek alternately. Their lips were split, teeth knocked out, and cheekbones bruised.

"You know Father loves you, right, Willer?" 

After the 'discipline' sessions, the director would gently whisper as he personally applied medicine to their wounds. 

The children, trembling in fear, still yearned for the director's love. 

In this small world called the orphanage, the director was a god. If they didn't receive his love, they received his hatred instead. 

Among the children, Damien was hit the least.

Because he resembled Willer the most. 

Naive in demeanor and acting respectful due to fear, Damien was favored by the director. Damien, too, did his best to accommodate the director's whims.

On the other hand, the child hit the most was Van.

Because she didn't even pretend to try and be like Willer. Van openly defied the director and got beaten every single day.

"Even if the director beats me all day, I'll never become Willer. In fact, I can't."

Unafraid of the director's beating, Van always shouted defiantly.

"I am Van! Not your dead Willer!"

Damien couldn't understand Van, who rebelled and got beaten only to be put in solitary confinement.

You could avoid the beatings by bending just a little. 

You wouldn't be in pain if you just became Willer, even a little.

One day, after Van had been severely beaten and left in the storage room, Damien approached her and asked why she endured it like that.

Instead, Van shot back with a question.

"How can you live like that?"

"Huh?"

"You're not Willer, you're Damien. Shouldn't you live as Damien?"

Speechless and stunned, Damien looked at Van, who then offered a sly smile.

"Even if it kills me, I'll live as Van. Just watch."

...Her words were powerful, but ideals were distant while the director's beatings were near. Van got beaten every day.

Secretly, Damien would heal her. The boy had a power to heal wounds. They grew closer over time.

"Heh heh..."

Every time he healed her, Van would always put on a tough front.

"Heh heh... This doesn't hurt at all. Is it me, or are your blows getting weaker, Director? Or maybe I'm just getting tougher?"

It wasn't that she was wrong; she was growing faster than most of her peers. But even so, she was still a kid.

Despite being beaten to a bloody pulp, she always boasted that it didn't hurt.

One day, Damien grew curious and asked,

"Why do you act so tough?"

"It's not an act."

"You're clearly pretending to be strong."

"It's not pretending," she retorted, stuffing a cloth into her bleeding nose.

"Later on, I will become really strong and powerful. I'm just acting like that future version of myself."

"...?"

Damien tilted his head, not fully understanding. She gave him a half-smile.

"Whenever you reach a point where you can't stand it anymore, just pretend to be a stronger version of yourself like me. It might help."

"So, should I chuckle like you? 'Heh heh'?"

"Heh heh, exactly! That's where you start!"

If I act tough like you, can I be brave like you? Can I stand up to the Director, to this cruel world?

Damien didn't know. He didn't even have the courage to try.

***

Time passed. Among the rapidly growing children, she stood out for growing exceptionally fast.

She had become the tallest among the orphans. Her chest filled out, and her body's shape changed.

When they were younger, the boys and girls all had their hair cut short, so it was hard to tell them apart. But when puberty hit, there was no hiding the differences anymore.

The girl was steadily becoming an adult.

Her growth and her knack for drawing the Director's ire meant that she took on various chores around the orphanage. She worked her body to the bone, staying mostly in the storage room.

That allowed her to stay out of the Director's sight.

Just as Damien had a talent for healing magic, she had a talent for swordsmanship.

She practiced every day with a crude wooden sword, careful not to get caught by the Director.

"Heh heh, just you wait. One day, my swordsmanship will slash that broad forehead of yours wide open."

She continued to grow, but her signature bravado never waned. Not even on the day she took the blame for a cup that Damien had broken, and was beaten black and blue by the Director.

"Do you think I'm some weakling? I could take a beating all day and it wouldn't hurt anymore... Ahhhh! Ow! Heal me gently!"

Even when the daily beatings left scars on her cheeks,

"Don't these look like cute cat whiskers? Heh heh, hey, not bad, right? Kind of charming?"

In this orphanage where every day was a nightmare, she put on an act.

She pretended to be strong.

And so, she truly became strong. She stood firm, unwavering, defending her own name.

Damien wanted to be like her.

He liked her that way.

***

Smack!

The incident occurred when Damien and she turned fifteen.

"Act like you have some will, dammit! Are my words just noise to you?!"

In a corner of the orphanage's storage room, the Director once again raised his hand against her.

Wiping her bloody lip with the back of her hand, she shouted,

"Get a grip, Director! Look at me properly!" 

Van pointed to her own body, where the curves of a fully-grown woman were evident. 

"Look at me! I am a woman! I'm fundamentally different from your deceased son!"

The director's body stiffened. 

Illuminated by the moonlight, Van's body had grown mature without him noticing. 

"So... You're not my son Willer, but someone else..."

The director's eyes took on a sinister look. 

"Then there's no reason to treat you as my child."

"What...?"

Van's shoulders twitched. 

Not bothering to hide his lecherous intentions, the director took large strides toward Van.

"I've fed you and housed you all this time. Time to pay up, eh?"

"Don't, Director."

In a desperate move, Van grabbed a wooden sword from a shelf in the storage room. 

"Don't come any closer."

Ignoring her, the director closed the distance between them. His looming shadow engulfed the young woman.

"Take one more step and I'll strike you down with this!"

With her eyes tightly shut, Van gripped the wooden sword with all her might.

"Please...! Don't come any closer...!"

Through years of training and innate talent, Van's swordsmanship had reached a considerable level. If she truly committed to a strike, the director wouldn't walk away unscathed.

But,

"I don't want to be Willer; I want to be your daughter, Van..."

Despite any abuse, despite being treated like subhuman trash,

The director had raised her. He was something akin to a father.

Unable to bring herself to strike, Van hesitated. The director reached out to her just as he closed the gap between them.

That's when it happened.

Thud!

The door burst open and a young boy rushed in, pushing the director away and shielding Van. It was Damien.

"Willer!"

The flustered director bellowed.

"What are you doing, Willer? Move away from your father!"

"I... I am not."

With a trembling voice, Damien stammered.

"My name is not Willer. It's Damien."

Looking up at the director, Damien finally managed to spit out the words.

"And you're not our father; you're the director of this orphanage."

"!"

Blind rage filled the director's eyes.

Slap!

The director's massive hand struck Damien's cheek, lifting him off his feet. Holding him in the air, the director continued to strike him.

"What sort of backtalk is that, Willer! You are Willer! You must be! I'll correct your manners, right from the start!"

Slap! Slap!

In no time, Damien was covered in blood. The director roared and raised his hand high.

"If you can't be Willer, then just die—!"

Just then,

Crack!

Van's wooden sword forcefully struck the back of the director's head.

"Ugh...?!"

The sword splintered in the middle, and along with fragments of wood, the director's large body collapsed, unconscious.

Panting heavily, Van looked down at him.

"Haah, haah, you piece of shit..."

Immediately after, she turned her gaze toward Damien.

"Are you alive, Damien?!"

Damien lay motionless, covered in blood. Van rushed over to him in desperation.

"Damien, answer me. Please! Damien!"

Tears glimmering in his eyes, Van muttered something under his breath. In response, a faint sound emerged from the motionless Damien.

"Heh heh."

"..."

"Don't worry, I'm fine... heh heh."

Damien grinned with a bloodied face. Seeing that forced bravado in his smile, Ban burst into relaxed laughter.

"Ahaha, ahahaha... Stop laughing like that! It doesn't suit you at all!"

"You too, it's never suited you... haha."

"It's so unfitting that it's ridiculous, ahahaha!"

The two bloodied youngsters looked at each other and laughed for a while, tightly holding each other's hands.

That day, they reclaimed their names, Damien and Van, realizing they could no longer stay in this orphanage.

***

The two decided to escape from the orphanage.

They had been preparing for some time, but the opportunity never seemed right.

But now, having knocked down the director, they had no idea what he might do next. They had no choice but to make their escape immediately.

They'd tried to persuade other kids to join them in the past, but all had refused.

All the other children had already become 'Willers.' Only the two of them had resisted and found their names.

In the early dawn, when everyone was still asleep, Damien and Van quietly treaded the creaky corridors of the orphanage.

Although they occasionally saw other servants employed by the director, they managed to evade them without much trouble.

The escape had been rehearsed dozens of times, so it went smoothly—until they reached the final obstacle.

The main gate.

The only passage connecting the orphanage to the outside world had an enormous, rusty lock. Except for when the director opened it, it remained closed.

Van drew her broken wooden sword and stood before the lock.

"I've been waiting for this day."

Taking a deep breath, she swung down hard, shattering the lock.

Looking down at the shattered, rusty lock, Van grumbled.

"...I should've done this to that old man's head yesterday."

"Let's go, Van."

Damien pulled Van.

"The noise would have been heard. The director might wake up soon."

And true to his words, it happened.

"WILLER!"

Just as they kicked open the main gate and started running, heavy footsteps thundered from behind.

It was the director. They had tied him up and locked him in the storage, but he'd been roused by the sound of the lock breaking.

"Where do you think you're going, Willer! It's dangerous outside!"

Chasing after them, the director yelled as they fled towards the back mountain.

"You are my children! You shouldn't leave this place! Willer! Willer!"

Ignoring him, they raced up the back mountain of the orphanage.

Every once in a while, the director would bring the children for a picnic on this mountain.

However, the picnics always ended halfway up the mountain.

A tall fence was erected there, like a double-layered prison bar, as if to prevent the children from escaping.

The director never showed the children what lay beyond. To those who expressed a desire to go to the summit, he would always say...

'Beyond that mountain lies a horrific nest of monsters. The world out there is a hellish place where even surviving is a struggle.'

'Well, let's head back to the safety of our home, Willer.'

Crack!

Van's wooden sword shattered the lock on the fence.

The boy and girl sprinted, breaking the Director's prohibition. They reached the peak of the back mountain in no time.

"..."

"..."

Both of them paused, breathless.

They were just standing on the summit of a small, rugged mountain, yet—

The world breaking dawn was incredibly beautiful. Under the endless sky, the vast land stretched infinitely.

Their small world confined to the orphanage shattered in that moment.

"It's vast..."

Van tightly gripped the mumbling Damien's hand.

"Damien, make a promise with me."

"Huh? A promise? What kind of promise?"

"To explore this entire outside world."

Van grinned brightly.

"Let's take in this vast world entirely with our eyes."

"..."

Swear to God, Damien had never seen such a beautiful smile in his life.

Her sunburned skin, her short, boyish hair, and the scars on both cheeks from being beaten by the Director every day.

All seemed beautiful, bleached white under the blinding sunlight and her even more dazzling smile.

"Promise!"

"Uh, yeah, promise."

And so, without even thinking, he nodded his head.

Van, who was already smiling, grabbed Damien's face with her hand and—

Smack.

She kissed him.

"...?!"

Frozen stiff with surprise, his face flushed, Damien was speechless. Moments later, Van triumphantly shouted.

"That was the seal of our promise!"

"Don't people usually pinky swear or something...?"

"Heh, that's for kids!"

Though she herself was a kid, Van took Damien's hand and led him forward.

"Let's go, Damien!"

The path down the other side of the mountain was treacherous, and it was unclear where it would lead.

"Until the end of the world, together!"

Nevertheless, the boy and girl joyfully leapt into the outside world.

It was a dawn where the sunlight shone dazzlingly bright.

***

"You must have had a good dream, you're grinning ear to ear. Time to wake up, student Damien."

A sudden snarky voice flew into his ears.

Startled, Damien opened his eyes.

"Did you sleep well, sleepyhead?"

He saw Ash's face, sitting next to his bed and looking down on him. Damien mumbled in confusion.

"Your Highness? Where am I..."

"You're in your room at the temple."

Damien, taken aback, quickly sat up. As Ash had said, it was his familiar room.

And then—

Clank.

Strange chains and shackles were installed on the wall.

The shackles restrained Damien's wrists. Dumbfounded, he blinked at them. What's going on?

Observing Damien's reaction, Ash let out a small sigh.

"Do you not remember what you did yesterday?"