My Servant Is An Elf-Knight From Another World

Chapter 31

She coughed again.

I stared, the glass shard laying limp at the palm of my hand.

"You can't be serious," I said.

"Actually, I can - watch," Ria pulled a face, one that made it look as if she was going through some serious chronic constipation. "See? Can you... please slit my throat now?"

I held onto my reserves. "You'll come back?"

"'Course I'll come back. Phoenix, remember?" She nudged her head at me, her eyes unfocused. "Come on, hurry it up... I promise it won't kill you."

Didn't even have the time to process what I actually was doing. No time for any moral dilemmas. No time for reluctance to brew over as I held the jagged edge over her throat.

Her eyes stared back at me and I felt the shard quiver slightly. I ironed my resolve, gripping it, till it broke skin.

"You ready?" I asked.

"No," she uttered faintly. "Are you?"

I didn't answer.

"No one's ever ready..." she said.

Ria closed her eyes, her face tightening, bracing, her breath held back by sealed lips.

I hadn't the faintest idea of how I was supposed to go about it. No clue how deep I was supposed to go, how fast I was supposed to be... whether I'd be able to finish it with one clean stroke, minimizing pain, or maybe I'd fumble - a clumsy cut and doubling her suffering.

It wasn't every day you're asked to kill a person. To me, before this, I thought killing a person would be the hardest thing you could ever do.

Afterward, I was frightened by just how easy it was. How the blade just glided effortlessly through her skin, how fast the blood was to spurt out and dribble down, staining her crimson dress with the darkest shade of red.

Didn't hear her scream, didn't even see her flail an inch. She went quietly. Her head slumping to the side, her expression seeing without staring. The fire had gone from her hair, her eyes... no indication that she was in any pain at all whatsoever.

But I knew... from the tears that had formed, glistening in her vacant eyes, I just knew that it must have been unbearable, painful. She just didn't show it.

My question was, why would she spare me the guilt?

I looked at my hand, coated deeply with the warmth of her blood, and wondered briefly just how many times already had she done this. Clearly, not enough to be used to it yet. I can share in that... because I don't think I ever will either.

There was a thud. The unmistakable slam of feet against concrete, its echo reverberating throughout the room as if in warning to a presence other than our own.

A welcome presence once... an unwelcome presence now.

Never thought there will come a time where I'd learn to fear Ash's presence. As it turns out though, regrettably, I was a fast learner.

The unfeeling gaze that met mine as I turned around had me paralyzed with fear. Her lengthy strides towards my crumpled state, time and time again, was one empty of hesitation.

Damn it, Ash.

Escape, once again, was an impossibility. Not with this damn leg that she left me with. Again, crawling can't outpace walking.

I still had the shard in my hand, bloodied and sharp. Despite knowing the futility of it, I went ahead and raised it against her march. Silly as it was, I was hoping I could buy enough time for Ria to stir to life, as little as it may be.