Indoctrinate I

Footsteps echoed.

Demon Guard 1 (whispers, eyes shifting):

"Hey, have you… noticed anything strange about Lord Sary lately?"

Demon Guard 2 (surprised):

"Strange? What do you mean?"

Demon Guard 1 (leaning in):

"He barely leaves his room. Yesterday, when I passed by… I heard moaning — from multiple people."

Demon Guard 2 (blinking):

"...I noticed too. Some succubi walked out of his room. All of them looked pale, exhausted — barely able to walk."

Demon Guard 1 (shivering):

"He wasn't like this before..."

They stopped in front of a small metal door — so plain it was hard to believe it held the last living member of the hero's party.

The door creaked open. Inside was a simple room: a bed, a small water basin, and a food tray neatly placed beside a stone table. No chains. No darkness. Only a heavy, suffocating silence.

On the bed lay Hana — hair disheveled, face pale — curled up, eyes empty, as if facing demons only she could see.

Demon Guard 2 (placing the tray, sighing softly):

"This doesn't feel like a prison at all..."

Demon Guard 1 (closing the door):

"Lord Sary said... not to hurt her — to ensure the baby develops normally."

Demon Guard 2 (quietly):

"He wants her alive… only to give birth."

They left. Their footsteps faded into the distance. Silence returned to the hallway.

Inside the room, Hana clutched the blanket, body trembling — not from cold, but from memory.

Hana (murmuring unconsciously):

"Mirisu… please… save me..."

---

At a tavern

Smoke, strong alcohol, and clinking glasses surged through the air like crashing waves. At a large table deep inside, the hero's party celebrated victory.

Mirisu (raising his mug, cheeks flushed):

"Cheers! The Fire Dragon is dead — and we're still alive!"

Berry (slamming the table):

"Three more barrels, innkeeper!"

Hana (worried):

"Hey, stop drinking so much..."

Mirisu handed her a mug, his eyes gleaming with joy and intoxication:

"Just for tonight, Hana. Drink."

She hesitated… then took a small sip.

---

[A few hours later]

Yela returned from the church, frowning at the sight of the drunken two.

"I'll take care of Berry. Hana, help Mirisu upstairs."

Hana guided Mirisu to a room rented above the tavern. The oil lamp flickered faintly. She laid him on the bed.

Just as she turned to leave — a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Mirisu — dead drunk, eyes hazy with both alcohol and darkness — pulled her back.

Whether from unconscious impulse or something deeper, his eyes seemed to call out to someone.

Hana (startled):

"Mirisu… let go…"

Her eyes trembled. Panic and confusion overwhelmed her.

---

[Next morning]

Morning light filtered through the curtains.

Hana opened her eyes. She was lying on the bed. Face pale. Her hands clenched the blanket around her body.

Beside her — Mirisu, still asleep, face calm and unaware.

She looked at the floor. Inside her chest was only chaos: shame – pain – silence.

---

[Three weeks later]

She began vomiting. Couldn't eat. Felt constantly exhausted.

In the mirror, her face grew paler. Her hand instinctively rested on her belly.

Hana (thinking):

"...It can't be… right?"

"Surely it's nothing… maybe I'm just too tired..."

---

Hana

(Her eyes half-closed, lips tightly sealed — as if she no longer had the strength to cry, yet tears still streamed down, soaking her temples.)

…Mirisu… Berry… Kasa… Yela…

Her breath trembled — soft, like one on the verge of death.

Each name echoed in her mind like a dull knock inside her chest.

Fragments of memory slashed through her like blunt knives.

She remembered Mirisu, holding up his sword and saying:

"I'll cut down anything in your way — even fate itself."

Berry, with his loud laugh:

"I'll stand in front so you never have to cry."

And Yela...

Now, they… were all gone.

She clenched her fists and buried her face in the soft pillow.

There was nothing left to shield her from reality.

The room — simple, clean — felt cold to the marrow.

A suffocating kindness, crueler than torture.

Hana (thinking):

"...Why… am I the one left alive...?"

"Why…"

Silence.

Then suddenly, in the thick darkness of despair, a thought struck her.

> "That's right… why didn't I think of this earlier…?"

Her gaze turned hollow, stiff — no longer reflecting life.

Only something twisted and fractured, like a shattered mirror trying to reflect a broken sky.

Hana (murmuring):

"...If I disappear… this child… won't be born..."

"...No one… will have to suffer anymore..."

Her hands slowly reached for her neck, trembling.

Not from hesitation — but from the deep conflict within.

Life still clung instinctively to every cell of her being.

"Mother… I'm sorry…"

— her voice choked, weak like a child begging in a nightmare.

She squeezed tighter.

Only when a faint sound came from outside the door — the click of a turning lock — did her hands fall limply, her neck bruised but not broken.

Hana gasped for air.

Cold sweat ran down her temples.

Her eyes turned toward the door. Not with hope.

But with fear — that he might have seen.

The heavy metal door opened with a grating screech —

a sound so cold it could freeze blood.

It wasn't a guard.

It wasn't a servant.

It was him.

Snow-white hair. Eyes colder than hell.

Saryx.

Every step he took echoed with a strange resonance —

as if hundreds of whispers followed him from the void.

He stopped, eyes scanning her trembling form on the bed.

They settled on the bruises on her neck, shaped like hands.

He was silent for a moment.

Then a smirk appeared — not of pity, but disgust.

Saryx:

> "Filthy mutt… you dare try to kill yourself?"

His voice splintered like blades dragging across skin.

He didn't shout.

It didn't need to be loud.

The air in the room thickened instantly.

Hana said nothing. Her eyes wide open, dry. Empty.

She stared at him like a beast too exhausted to run — awaiting the final blow.

Saryx (approaching, voice low, mocking):

> "So scared you'd rather drag the hero's fetus into the grave with you?

You think death comes that easily for trash like you?"

He leaned in, grasped her chin —

His hand cold as steel against her burning skin.

Saryx (closer):

> "You will live.

Live until it's born.

Then I'll eat every piece of it — right before your eyes."

She only trembled. Not a word of protest.

Saryx (withdrawing, eyeing her wrists):

> "Trying to die, huh?

How pathetic.

Next time… I'll sever every tendon in your limbs to keep that fetus intact."

He turned, stepping toward the exit —

then paused at the threshold.

Saryx (without looking back):

> "Ah, I almost forgot.

If you behave… maybe I'll let you live."

The door closed. The lock clicked.

Once again, darkness devoured the room.

Hana choked back a sob, eyes wide and hollow.

Her hands clutched the blanket.

Her teeth pierced her lip, drawing blood.

But she no longer cried.

There were no more tears left.