Chapter 7: Berserker’s Plea

~ Precia ~

Pain… everywhere. I’m used to it but…

I drag myself away. Away from the village, away from the camp, away from my classmates, away from Daddy. My dress is ruined and torn. I’m injured. My left knee continues to swell with every step. All I can do is limp. If I hadn’t grabbed two wooden swords, I wouldn’t be able to walk at all…

I’ve reached the treeline, but I want to walk some more. I need to be so alone that no one will find me. I’m a princess. If I cry, no one must see. I need to be far away when I do. I already failed once. Some kids probably saw…

I’m a failure; maybe Daddy is right?

I need to think. I need to make decisions, too. But my head hurts. I can barely form a coherent thought. Everything is swirling and swaying. If I’m not careful, I’ll fall. The forest can be dangerous.

I’m sweating from exertion, yet I feel so cold… Silent tears trickle down my swollen cheeks. They’re almost pleasantly warm… but the icy cold from deep within is stronger. It might consume me soon.

Suddenly, my injured leg slips. I fall hard, unable to cushion the fall. I hit my head against a tree. More pain explodes in my head. My vision is blurry. My world is spinning. I haven’t walked far enough… I can’t get up…

Help…

*

~ Dave ~

Kenneth’s idea intrigues me, but my cautious nature raises several alarms.

“Wouldn’t that give the Demon Lord even more reason to crush us?” I wonder as I observe Berserker get more riled up than I’ve ever seen him.

“After he threw his kid away like some toy he no longer needs?” Lucy raises an eyebrow. “I hardly think he cares.”

“If you listened to me, you’d know that he has many reasons to care about her, regardless,” Kenneth points out. “He’d be screwed if something were to happen to her. She’s the heir, for better or worse.”

“Right,” I agree hesitantly. “And that’s what worries me…”

He’ll want our heads stuck on a pole if we as much as scratch her, I reckon…

“He could also want her gone so someone more suitable inherits the throne,” Lucy contemplates. “We may play right into his hands if we capture or assassinate her.”

“I highly doubt the demon populace would think highly of their leader failing to protect the heir,” Kenneth argues. “Those opposing him might consider this a sign of weakness; some might even suspect he did so deliberately for his own gain. In other words: This might lead to internal struggle, and I hardly think he’d be willing to risk that.”

“So we’re gonna snatch her and sell her off to the best bidder for some quick buck or what?” Lance inquires, although everyone knows he has more improper stuff on his mind. The cheeky smirk he tries in vain to suppress just confirms this. Thankfully, Lucy glares at him just in time to shut him up.

“I suppose we could make her a political prisoner if the plan somehow works,” I muse out loud. “Where’s the kid right now?”

“She got up and limped away towards the forest before the familiar lost her,” Beatrix said, joining the discussion. “I could try to send the familiar to relocate her if you wish, master. We may be able to kidnap her with the stealth I can provide - if you lot finally stop yapping, that is!”

“Please, you must give the order.”

Berserker directly addresses me, getting up and approaching me with thundering steps. His expression is a whole cocktail of emotions, and his mind is more focused than ever despite his outright dangerous high blood alcohol level.

“I never ask for nothin’, Dave, I never do. Just this once, okay? Listen, I know I’m causin’ more trouble than I’m worth. You knew and you took me in anyhow. Please trust me once more. Save the kid, I’m beggin’ you…”

Not ‘kidnap her’, ‘save her’. Did he choose these words on purpose?

“Well… first, we need to find out her whereabouts and whether it’s safe to go…” I reply hesitantly, unsure how to handle Berserker’s unexpected request.

“I couldn’t ever forgive myself.”

Although his words are merely a faint whisper, he may as well have screamed them at the top of his lungs. Suddenly, the air is full of chilly suspense. Berserker takes out a bottle of strong booze and downs half of it without as much as a shudder. The booze won't bury whatever he’s trying to bury, though.

“If you’re doin’ me this favor, I’m owin’ you for a lifetime,” he offers ever so quietly, the half-empty bottle in his large hands trembling. The deep, raspy voice he uses for his request and the sincerity with which he stares right into my eyes contradict his physique. Frankly, his demeanor sends shivers down my spine.

“I’ll do anythin’, Dave, truly anythin’.”

“Even quit your drinking?” Kenneth interjects curiously.

“Anythin’ but that.” Berserker shudders at the thought before continuing his quiet plea. “I’ll do it myself ‘n’ take on that monster alone if I must. You’ve taken in losers ‘n’ outcasts like me. She’s ‘n outcast, too. I know it ain’t matter to no one, Dave, but hear me out. Seein’ what that bastard did to her… I… She’s just a defenceless child…”

Correction: She’s an enemy brat. A valuable brat. And she could get us killed. Damn it, what should I do?

Suddenly, I feel Kenneth’s hand rest on my shoulder. Lucy nods at me, and Lance grabs his spear when my gaze wanders around. Meanwhile, Beatrix curses audibly since we’re straining her barrier and mana with all the noise we’re making. Berserker kneels before me, a hint of tears in the giant's eyes. He bows and lowers his head. I can only muse what motivates him, but his words and actions are genuine.

“Capturing her and bartering her away could end the war,” Kenneth points out, his hand putting more pressure on my shoulder. “And we could free a helpless child from the clutches of an abusive father. Demon or not… You got more than just Berserker’s support. The last word is yours, though.”

My gaze wanders from my best friend nodding supportively to the siblings raising their weapons in support, and it lingers for a bit on Berserker, still bowing and pleading with me to make the right decision. Finally, I pan over to Beatrix. The old witch nods at me as well.

Fuck it.

“Beatrix, please change the target,” I announce with a heavy heart. “Once we know where that girl went, I’ll decide.”

I hope I won’t regret this… If that kid is separated from the Demon Lord, we may be able to pull it off, but if not…

The housefly-shaped familiar still adheres to the back wall of the classroom. Beatrix’s command prompts our little helper to take off. She perfectly imitates how those fuckers jet around in a style that reminds me of the way drunk people drag themselves back home after one too many drinks at the tavern. The familiar aims towards the open door in a slalom to look for the girl.

The Demon Lord still lies there, collapsed over an unused desk. My mastery of demon language isn’t high enough to make out the mumbled complaints between his sobs, but I can tell he’s still lamenting about a wife he lost and that kid, of course.

Poor fucker. If he weren’t responsible for burning down my home, I might actually feel sorry. He can burn in hell for all I care, though. And it’s all on him for treating his kid like that…

Then, the Demon Lord perks up. The buzzing sound must have alerted him somehow. For a moment, he gauges the unsuspecting familiar with his watery, red eyes. Beatrix navigates toward the door but slips a subdued curse immediately upon gaining his unwanted attention. She lands on the nearest chair, rubbing its legs together and preening the wings. For a split second, he seems to ponder whether or not to swat us.

My heart skips a beat, possibly two. Then, the Demon Lord sighs and sobers up from his misery.

“Some chief I am…”

Ashamed of his breakdown, the Demon Lord quickly recovers his fierce expression and heads for the door, ignoring us. Unfortunately, that’s no reason to be relieved.

“Hurry, he’ll trap us inside!” I urge, fearing the familiar and with it Beatrix’s mana may end up locked inside the classroom. Beatrix reacts immediately, taking off and accelerating. The Demon Lord has almost left the room when we attempt to slip through, too. Suddenly…

“No! Go back! Go back!”

I yell anxiously as the demon suddenly whirls around, his attention once again right on us. Beatrix quickly steers the familiar back into the room. Performing a few extra hooks and turns for authenticity, she parks it on the nearest desk.

Did he notice?!

The intimidating figure slowly turns around and walks a few steps back into the room. Hastily, Beatrix runs the familiar through its idle housefly behavior pattern again before aimlessly crawling across the wooden desk, stopping here and there to investigate its wooden textures for signs of edible things. For a few excruciating moments, he observes us. Then, finally, a faint chuckle escapes the demon, who shakes his head before he turns around.

Whew, he didn’t suspect…

*SLAM*

With an unexpected forward thrust, he slams the familiar onto the desk, which shatters under the impact. The familiar, made from Beatrix’s mana, survives the assault unscathed, however, taking off immediately, much faster than an actual fly could. Pretending to be a common housefly is no longer necessary. The lack of mushed insect carcasses sticking to his massive palms is giving us away.

We’ve been busted. Fuck!

And then, chaos breaks loose.