CHAPTER 289: THE FLOWER THAT GROWS IN CHAINS

A lonely new type staggers through the wilderness of the night.

The night sky, where the moon and stars shine, looks down with a stern light, as if holding a sword of judgment, unlike usual.

"If only I had done a little more, I could have won!"

Siana gasped and cried out, more in anger than in pain.

—But in the end, you lost.

The unknown entity had been conveying its will in a way that could not be identified.

Siana felt an eerie chill at the ruthless will.

"I, I...! No, if only you had helped me a little earlier, I would have won!"

Siana screamed in frustration.

"If you had such great power, you should have helped me a long time ago. Why are you only reaching out your hand after everything has ended in failure?"

"If only I could have enslaved Yusuf before I even fought Hardion!"

"No, you could have enslaved him and ruled over Tumaria before the Padishah even fell ill!"

—That’s not wrong, but I’m in a situation where I can’t move right now. This is also a very... much bigger risk than you can imagine.

The unidentified entity conveyed unpleasantness, bitterness, and regret.

He was now very far away, and it was almost impossible for him to exert his power even to this distant land of Tumaria.

If you hadn’t put in a replacement for Siana’s heart in the past.

If only I didn’t have the black eyes I grew up with through Garten.

And if he hadn’t used that black eye to create an eyeball from Siana’s heart and watch the situation.

—I can’t lose my well-grown tongue.

If that had been the case, we would have lost all the flowers in full bloom here in vain.

At that will, Siana’s face turned pale and her lips trembled.

"Yeah, next time—next time, I can do it. Really."

Siana whispered calmly, as if the swearing she had been doing just a moment ago was a lie.

Even the trembling voice was quickly calmed down and made to sound composed.

Having lived a miserable life as a slave, she was very sensitive to the feelings of others.

So much so that she could perfectly read the intentions of this unknown being through its transmitted will.

A well-grown tongue.

Now that the tongue had fully grown, it was safe to say that its usefulness to its host, Siana, had ended.

So what happens next?

"I learned a lot this time. I was clumsy."

—That doesn’t mean you’ll get another chance. You failed because you were clumsy, and if you fail, that’s the end of it. I’m sure you know very well that failure doesn’t give you a new chance.

"I am!"

"Siana."

Seid called out to Siana in a low voice, trying to plead with her.

Siana, who had never thought that Seid would interfere, looked up at Seid, who had stopped in the wilderness, in surprise.

Seid, who didn’t even have the strength to cast a shadow, was looking down at Siana with a face covered in blood and dust.

A face so pale that it looked like it was always hidden in the shadows, thick, shiny black hair, stubborn eyebrows, and sunken cheeks.

If it hadn’t been so mangled by battle, it would have certainly been a manly and handsome face.

Like his beautiful daughter.

"Don’t get caught up in that."

On Seid’s sharp face, his indomitable will—which had been obscured by the machinations of Siana and the unknown being—shone clearly.

It was a dazzling manifestation of the self of a man who had lived as a slave but still had a spark burning in his heart.

"You: what do you know!"

"I know, Siana."

Seid spoke calmly to Siana, who was glaring at him with her teeth clenched.

"It is better to live than to die. If you can find the spark of yourself in it, if you can keep that light, it is better to live even if you become a slave."

Seid’s soft voice knocked on the moon and stars in the night sky.

"But if you can’t do that, if you lose yourself, it’s better to die with yourself than to live a slave."

He lived as a slave, but eventually found himself and died with his heart in his hands.

And even after death, they became slaves.

These were the words of Seid, who, despite all this, did not lose himself.

"So, are you telling me to die? Without accomplishing anything, in vain?"

"Is what you have achieved by being manipulated by others yours? Is it worth staking your existence on? Is that hatred really yours? Is this revenge yours? What will you gain in the end? And, will you be able to exist as yourself after that?"

To Seid’s numerous questions, Siana could not answer a single one.

—Nevertheless, living beings cannot help but yearn for life. That is the fate of all things that live with the light of life.

The one who answered that question was the unknown being who had been silently listening to the conversation.

A large eye sprouted from Siana’s chest, looking straight at Seid.

—Humans are especially so. Weak, pitiful, and evil, but because of that, they shine even more when they sing of life.

"We cannot be simply categorized as human beings. We live, die, and change. Because there is death, we can sing about life, and because we sing about life, we can face death. Even in the same landscape, we have always dreamed of something new."

At Seid’s words, there was silence for a moment.

The words of a man who was raised as a non-human, lived as if he were dead, blossomed into a flower of his own within that, and then chose death for his daughter and died as a human being.

Even if Seid were just a speck of dust among countless humans who had passed by, those words carried the same weight as all human souls.

After the silence, it conveyed its will again.

—Seid. Not all humans can be like you. Death is something to be feared and unaccepted. You can’t deny it.

"Is that what you say? You who turned us into living corpses?"

Seid asked it.

And then, looking at the eyeball that had taken the place of Siana’s heart, he unwrapped his own chest and showed it to the moonlight.

A horrifying sight, with distorted black flesh and black blood vessels growing out of it, extending all over the body.