[11] The Emergence of Brutal Deer (3)

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I was still trembling, my breaths ragged, hot tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably.

The cold blade pressed against my throat—too cold.

Every time I swallowed, I could feel its sharp edge grazing my skin, sending waves of terror through me.

I didn't want to die.

But what terrified me even more than death was…

What might happen if I stayed alive in this place.

In front of me, the old man sneered, his disgusting face filled with satisfaction.

"Do you know?" he whispered, his voice low and snakelike. "Girls like you usually cry a lot more before they finally break."

His grip tightened on my shoulder, clutching me like his personal property.

I whimpered, trying to pull away, but my body was too weak.

"Don't touch her."

That voice—calm, yet filled with icy menace.

I turned, my tear-blurred vision barely making out his figure—

The Deer-Masked Man, drenched in blood, staring down the old man with an unwavering, frozen glare.

His presence was barely human—more like a shadow of death itself.

But the old man chuckled, his laughter low and revolting.

"Don't touch her?" he echoed mockingly. "And what will you do? If you so much as take a step forward, I could slit her throat in an instant."

I held my breath, my body rigid with fear.

He… meant it.

I could see the madness in his eyes—as if my life or death was nothing more than a game to him.

But the Deer-Masked Man didn't seem to care.

He simply tilted his head slightly, then spoke in a flat, emotionless tone—

"Why should I care?"

My eyes widened, confusion and fear colliding inside me.

Why… Why would he say that?

Even the old man looked momentarily stunned, his expression shifting in disbelief.

"What do you mea—"

BANG!

Something whizzed through the air at inhuman speed.

Before I could even blink, I felt the old man's grip vanish—his body violently yanked backward.

The knife at my throat fell away, and he was sent flying into the wall with a sickening crash.

"G-GHUAACK!!"

My breath hitched as I stared—a longsword was now impaled through his shoulder, fresh blood splattering across the floor.

I staggered, still trying to process what had just happened.

But before I could collapse—

A strong hand caught me.

I gasped as my body was lifted effortlessly into the air, and in one swift motion, I found myself held in a warm embrace.

I knew this scent.

Blood. Steel.

And beneath it all… something strangely comforting.

A voice whispered above my head—cold, yet laced with something indescribable.

"I'm sorry I was late."

I broke down.

###

I had caught her.

Her small frame shook violently in my arms, her tiny hands clutching my coat tightly, and then—

"HUUAAA!!"

Her sobs erupted, her cries—held back for so long—finally spilling out uncontrollably.

I remained silent, letting her cry as much as she needed.

Her tiny fists pressed against my chest, as if trying to confirm that I was truly here.

And at that moment—

I realized something so simple.

I was furious.

Not just angry that this bastard dared to touch her.

Not just angry that she had been sold like an object.

I was angry because I wasn't there when she needed me the most.

I clenched my jaw, forcing down the emotions threatening to explode inside me.

Not now.

I took a deep breath, then turned my gaze toward the pathetic man lying on the floor.

His shoulder pinned to the ground by my sword, his blood pooling beneath him.

For the first time—

There was no arrogance on his face.

No sneering grin.

No mocking words dripping with condescension.

Only raw, desperate fear.

"I-I can pay you…!" he stammered, his voice shaking. "Whatever you want… just name your price…!"

I stared at him—expressionless.

Then, I looked down at the girl in my arms.

Her frail body, the humiliating dress, the trauma in her once-bright eyes.

My fingers tightened around my sword.

I had already made my decision.

Without a word, I raised my blade high.

His eyes widened, realizing there was no escape.

"N-No—!"

SLASH!

One clean, precise cut.

Blood sprayed through the air.

And the sickening thud of a severed head hitting the cold floor echoed through the room.

I exhaled slowly, watching his lifeless body collapse, completely void of any pity.

"It's over."

I crouched down, gently brushing my fingers through her hair.

"We're going home."

She didn't answer right away.

But after a few seconds, she gave a tiny nod, though her body still trembled.

I lifted her up, securing her in my arms—

And walked out of that cursed room.

But I couldn't just leave.

This villa had to be erased.

Grabbing an oil lantern from a nearby table, I tore it open, spilling its contents onto the wooden floor.

Ensuring that the furniture was flammable, I grabbed a burning candle—

And dropped it.

FWOOSH!

Flames devoured the room instantly, crawling up the walls and curtains, hungry and wild.

The heat quickly spread, the scent of burning wood filling the air.

I stepped out of the villa, ensuring that no one inside would make it out alive.

As I stood outside, I watched the fire grow, its embers licking the night sky.

The black smoke billowed upward, the crackling of burning wood filling the silence.

I took a slow breath, then looked down at the girl in my arms.

She still clung to my chest, her breathing steadying, but her eyes remained hollow.

I tightened my hold around her slightly, offering the only warmth I could give.

"It's okay," I whispered softly. "I'm here."

For the first time in months—

I had finally gotten my sister back.