Глава 16

A few lives and deaths, big deal. I doubt those miners we saw on the way could give us a show that measures up to knightsports.

The knights fight every year, but Breskenoy hasn't seen a single death sentence in a decade under the rule of the current Grand Duchess! This is a truly rare event.

Death sentence? Who's the criminal?

A miner couple caught in the act, plotting to organize an Infected strike.

My, my, how awful...

Yes. It was such a horrendous crime that the Grand Duchess apparently wept when she signed the death warrant.

But there is no precedence for humane death sentences in these parts. It's easy to bury them in the nearby swamps, but it would be such a waste of a rare death sentence, wouldn't it?

Which is why we're here.

The procedures start with whipping. I heard paying guests like us even get to pick the whip, add blades to it, soak it in brine...

What if they died sooner than planned and their rocks exploded in front of us? I had this dress made just for this trip, you know.

That won't be a problem! Their infection isn't that bad. It would have taken them years to die if they didn't commit their crime.

As for the party and picnic that you asked about, you'll see it soon enough.

Now, let's get ourselves warm by the fire.

Are they still breathing?

Th-The woman's still babbling treason...

Is the man dead?

Cut his tongue out yesterday.

Why not cut the woman's too?

Th-The guests yesterday said no.

They wanted to hear her scream—

Did she?

No! Not even once. She keep repeating her 'petitions', saying things like 'for the other children who died in the mines'...

Couldn't understand a word of it! She must be mad.

Wouldn't have tried to start a strike if she wasn't.

*sigh* Cut the woman's tongue too.

Yes, sir!

And that kid. She was standing there yesterday too, wasn't she?

Yes. The constable wanted her to stand there and watch, until her parents breathe their last.

Then send her back to the quarters once they're dead.

I'm afraid she has to go down to the mines with her mom's lamp and ID. She was born in a mine, you know, which makes her a miner too.

...Does she have a lamp? Do you see a lamp in her hands?

N-No, sir!

Then send her back to the quarters once it's done, <i>mudak!</i>

Vetochki... here, take these. Butter, minced meat, chocolate... Good girl.

Uh...

D-Don't get any wrong ideas! It wasn't my husband who sold your parents out! I earned these myself, pushing the carts in the mines!

There's only you and your babushka now. Take care of her, alright?

Tell her she doesn't need to return the scissors she borrowed. Come find me if you ever need anything...

I'll do what I can to help.

*sigh* My kid would be around your age, if she had lived.

She said some other things, but I never answered.

Was it because I couldn't talk, or because I had already walked away and went home?

All I know is that I saw red—

Red dripping on greyish-white plastic.

I thought I was back outside at that place again... but no.

It was babushka.

Argh—ahhhh!

Ugh...

Yesterday, and today. I learned that the red inside a human body isn't endless. It will dry up. It makes people hurt. It brings death.

So I tried to stop the red that was flowing out, with my hands, like the game that I played with my friends when I was little.

'Whoever picks up the most water has the most happiness.'

'Whoever bags the most winds has the most freedom.'

*Sob* *sob*—

No—no, no!

I can't keep it.

I must keep it.

I can't—

Babushka...

Babushka.

The cold body sinks into the plastic, into the mud, before my eyes. I look up and see 'it'.

A pale, standing shadow.

I cried—

'Babushka Nadia?'

I'm here.

...You told me to, endure, and forgive.

To survive, yes.

Must we still, endure?

Endure, and share, other pain, only leads to death now.

Do we endure... for nothing?

Desire anything, and you will only sin. Your suffering soul needs eternal peace.

Come, child. Come into my embrace.

...Did you forgive too?

I forgave.

We must accept the life that Ursus has granted, as we accept the death that Ursus has granted. We must not choose. We must not struggle.

Did you forgive? For killing mom, and dad... your own, child.

Yes, I forgive.

'I forgive'?

No...

Then... no.

You're not Babushka Nadia.

Babushka wouldn't, forgive like this. Not forgive for peace.

She won't forgive. She won't endure. She's dead... buried.

You're not her.

I am.

I am—

I am?

■■, submit to ■■...

Or... ■■ destruction.

Step back, Vetochki!

Sh-She's not! She's not, Babushka Nadia.

No, she's not.

But if, she's not, babushka...

Who is she?

The light of Arts floats around Mantra. She has made the foe reveal its true colors.

But it is not yet over. She must continue to build a barrier in the cognitive space, to isolate herself and the entity before her from other people.

In the meantime, she continues to communicate the truth.

'Yurodstvo.'

This is the Yurodstvo that you asked about. It is a demonic creation that has been given this name.

Perhaps it was once human. Now, it is a far cry from the concept of human.

I don't understand...