Transmigrated into a Female-Oriented Card Game-Chapter 304

The time he could maintain his sanity was getting shorter and shorter. When he opened his eyes, he was drowning in a sea of blood of unknown origin, and when he closed them, he was immersed in hellish thoughts. There was no escape, and it occurred to him that he might as well go completely insane.

He didnt know how many months had passed, and his sense of time was blurred. He had long since given up keeping track of the days. There was no point. There was nothing, really, nothing that mattered.

Its broken after all.

He blinked slowly through blood-stained eyelids. His pupils, glazed over with helplessness, captured the sword body broken in two. It was a greatsword purchased from a merchant for a small fortune. He thought it was a pretty solid one, even if it wasnt very promising.

Did it last about a week?

Even if he wanted to be gentle with it, when he woke up, the blade was already chipped. If he couldnt even control his own consciousness, how could he keep an eye on the condition of the greatsword?

Without hesitation, he threw the half-destroyed greatsword down, and instead of a dull clatter, there was a splash. A pool of blood, and around him a mountain of brutalized corpses of monsters. Occasionally, he could see the bodies of wild beasts.

Van walked slowly, looking at the gruesome scene with indifference.

* * *

I, I wont sell it to you.

The arms dealer, who had come out to greet his customers with enthusiasm, turned blue. He backed away as if frightened by Van, who was covered in blood, but refused to yield one of his greatswords. Vans impassive expression cracked in response.

Give it to me. I dont buy it to kill you.

Is that what you think you look like right now? I have my standards, even in business, and I will not sell weapons to a madman. fre(e)webnov(l).com

Im not crazy yet. Unless you really want to see something crazy, youd better get it out soon.

A snarling voice rang menacingly in the arms dealers ears. Each step Van took reeked of blood and gore. It looked as if he was about to slaughter a living man and drink his blood.

As he neared, Van nudged the arms dealers shoulder, and the man shuddered and jerked his body as if in a seizure. Without so much as a glance at the arms dealer, Van pushed past him and entered the shop.

His golden eyes scanned the weapons on display nonchalantly, until he spotted a greatsword. Grasping the thick handle, he pulled it out without permission. With his free hand, he fumbled with his pouch of money and turned away, just in time to see the arms dealer approach and snatch it from him.

Didnt, didnt you hear that I wouldnt sell it?!

Ill pay for it, Ill double it.

I dont need it! Get out of my store now!

.

Get out!

The arms dealers strength was formidable, but it was nothing compared to Vans. Van glared at the arms dealer as he tried to wrestle the greatsword from his grasp, not budging an inch. He watched the mans actions with a sort of indifference.

Just sell it when I offer to pay you.

Tendons sprouted on the backs of his hands as he held on, and his eyes grew slightly eerie. An uncontrollable aura surged through him. The arms dealer froze in his tracks as the red aura suddenly colored his vision.

Cough!

Throwing down the moneybag, Van immediately grabbed the arms dealer by the throat. His fingertips dug into the flesh, and the arms dealers face turned bright red as he was cut off from oxygen for an instant. Vans bloodshot eyes flashed as he choked the arms dealer, who writhed in agony.

I dont need a weapon to kill you, I can kill you with my bare hands in a minute, but I wont. Just sell me a greatsword and Ill go away.

Keugh, keuugh!

Do you really want to die like that?

I, I.

What?

I, I will I will sell it.

Yes, you should.

The grip that threatened to snap the mans neck loosened. The arms dealer gurgled as he clutched at his freed throat. Van kicked the money bag that had been half discarded on the floor and shoved it in front of him.

It will be three times the price.

He had threatened and injured the innocent, but his face showed no sign of guilt. He felt an unquenchable thirst. He had to leave the village before these feelings overwhelmed him.

* * *

When did this happen? He wondered, even though he knew the question was useless. He used the question mark as a hook to pull himself to the surface of consciousness. And he regretted it. He saw a face he missed like crazy, but resented like crazy.

A face he had never looked away from. At the end of his vision, that man was always there. At first, that man was attracted to him. He liked his brightness, his sparkling eyes, full of life.

Whenever that man turned his gaze toward him, the overflowing brilliance seemed to spill over into himself, like a cloud. He felt ecstatic like he was dipping into the Milky Way. He wanted to be by that mans side, to protect his light with his life.

And then he admired that man for being so brave, no matter who the enemy was. He admired the way that man charged forward with a body that looked frail compared to his own, and he wanted to be like that. It was the first time he realized that protecting someone was so cool, that it looked so good. He wanted himself to look like that.

And since when? Since when did he start to worry about that man? That he longed for him but felt uneasy looking at his back from afar. When he saw the worry in his usually sunny face, when he saw the courage to push through the fear. That man still sparkled, but he no longer wanted to protect it. He thought it was fine for that man not to sparkle in front of him.

He loved that man, after all, and he was more than willing to embrace him, even if all of his light was extinguished. He wanted to give back all of the hope that man had given him. His life was a waste. He had to live for that man. He had to stay alive, to be the one that man could always lean on.

That was why he was going crazy, but he held on.

Now the man he loved was gone. Only the poor soul remained, like an assortment. So why bother, when he had no one to love, no one to protect, no reason to live and bleed, no reason to be anywhere?

As the questions piled on top of each other, he slowly came to his senses. He could feel his muscles pulsing, smell the sickening stench of his own blood, and hear the clang of his greatsword as he swung it wildly.

He wondered what he was cutting down this time. Hed deliberately chosen an uninhabited forest. The forest was said to be haunted by monsters. In a place like this, no one would come, so he could rampage without fear. That was what he thought when he came to the place.

His vision flashed intermittently, clouded like a blood mist. His body refused to listen. He swung his sword frantically as if he were being controlled by something.

He could barely feel the sensation of slashing. Maybe it was just his body going on a rampage, even though there was nothing to kill.

He felt like a monster. No, he was already a monster. He should have been dead, but he wasnt. He couldnt figure out why.

Van.

He felt like he was really, truly going crazy. He heard voices, voices he didnt want to hear. But in the back of his mind, he knew he wanted to hear it again.

Van.

And then the old voice spoke again. It called his name over and over again as if to remind him of who he was.

Im sorry.

This was a line he never wanted to hear.

Im sorry, Van.

Something was wrong. His heart, which had been calm the entire time, began to race in contrast to his out-of-control body. He blinked rapidly. His vision cleared as if he had a mucous membrane.

He saw the greatsword. Blood dripped down its broad blade as it lay on the ground. And beside it lay a man, equally covered in blood. His sense of reality blurred. The sense of reality, which had never been there in the first place, scattered into the void as if it had fallen into space.

Im sorry. Im sorry for everything. So.

A trembling hand reached out, but it fell flat, touching nowhere. Tears flowed from his watery eyes like an overflow. They flowed without ceasing.

Please dont be hurt.

It was him. The man hed thought of a moment ago, the man hed missed and resented. Now, the man lay beneath him, covered in blood.

Why.

It was Cadel, and the moment he recognized him, all his senses sharpened, like loose nerves tightening. With a rush of breath, he slid off Cadels body like he was running away.

For the first time, he could see the world properly. It was still the forest, and the torn and tattered corpses of monsters littered the ground around him.

So this was real. But Cadel shouldnt be in his reality. Trembling eyes swept over Cadel on the ground. He was soaked in blood. Was it the blood of a monster? It had to be. It absolutely had to be. He had to have accidentally stepped in a puddle of blood and gotten covered in monster blood.

But then, his desperate gaze found the deep gash in Cadels side, the blood oozing madly from it. Vans eyes clouded over.

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