#77. My Brother Would Have Been the Branded Sacrifice
Unable to see properly, my brother fumbled through the air, groping blindly until at last he spotted Shuga standing awkwardly at one side of the room.
In that instant, only one thought consumed his mind.
A sacrifice. The price for a bargain with the gods.
His dry, cracked lips split open, and a bead of scarlet blood welled up.
“You! Come here!”
He shouted so loudly it seemed his breath would give out.
But Shuga remained rooted in place as if nailed to the floor.
Could not move.
Blood vessels swelled red around my brother’s eyes as he suddenly surged to his feet with a strength that seemed to come from nowhere. His gaze, wild and feverish, fixed on Shuga as he stretched out his hand.
“Didn’t you hear me? I told you to come.”
His tone was the same as always—gentle, but tinged with irritation.
Yet the twisted smile distorting his face froze Shuga in place.
Snap.
His hand clamped onto the thin arm hidden beneath her dress. His eyes gleamed as he muttered—loud enough that she could hear every word.
“Got you.”
Something foul and nauseating rippled beneath his voice.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Do you know what I suffered because of you?”
His grip was rough, unrelenting. Shuga was dragged helplessly across the floor.
The place he was hauling her toward—none other than the bed where he himself had just been lying.
The truth was, he knew nothing about the proper ritual of offering a sacrifice to an ancient god.
All he knew, the only thing that filled his mind, was that the brand had to be revealed.
“Wa… wait!”
Shuga had realized the moment he saw her that something was terribly wrong.
But only now, struggling against him, did she truly wrench her thoughts back into order.
“Brother? What are you doing all of a sudden—”
“You don’t need to call me that anymore. There’s no need.”
“Why are you doing this? Stop, please, brother!”
He ignored her cries, moving only to confirm what he sought.
“Ha… it’s here. It’s really here. Hahaha… hahahahaha!”
When his eyes landed on the clear brand carved across her ribs, his expression contorted between muttering and crazed laughter.
“This is all I need. I’ll make them regret treating me that way.”
He had despised the fact that their once-proud noble family had fallen into ruin, reduced to servants of another house. Rage burned inside him.
After their parents died, while sorting through the estate, he had found the diary of an ancestor and wondered: Why didn’t they keep the bargain?
It had been only a thought—until one day a temptation came that he could not refuse.
“It’s a simple task.”
“And if I do this, you’ll restore my house to glory?”
“In the name of Hainder.”
Who could refuse such a promise?
He had leapt at it with a light heart, dreaming of rebuilding the Lweir family. As expected, he failed.
And the price of failure…
Crack.
The sound of his teeth grinding echoed as his eyes shone with madness.
Shuga thrashed desperately, but it was hopeless.
She was small and frail, her body weakened further after their parents’ deaths had plunged them into poverty. Hungry nights had stunted her, and she could never bring herself to burden her brother further, who worked himself to exhaustion outside.
“Brother! Stop! Please stop! Why are you—”
“Why? Because if I offer you even now, the god will bless our house!”
His voice, twisted and loud, cut her off.
Their eyes met, and Shuga understood.
He meant it.
His words sank in. Offer. God. Our family.
“…This brand… that’s what it meant?”
“Hahaha! Exactly! That’s it! Our foolish ancestors and parents tried to hide and avoid it, but not me! This disgrace came because they broke a rightful pact with a god!”
“Father… Mother…”
Her voice faltered. His, hoarse and bloodshot, thundered on.
“Yes! They told me to protect you, so they kept you hidden all this time!”
“Fa…ther. Mo…ther…”
“They left behind a useless burden like you and died in peace! If they had truly understood what you were, they wouldn’t have died like that!”
Venom and greed poured out of him without pause.
“Idiot! You’re a sacrifice! That’s what you were born for!”
Shuga’s eyes reddened as if she might cry, yet not a single tear fell.
“…You’re saying I was born as a sacrifice? If I hadn’t been born, then you would have been the branded one.”
“Ah, yes. Once, I did bear the brand. But then you were born, weren’t you?”
Spreading his arms as though nothing was wrong, he grinned.
“So the destined sacrifice isn’t me—it’s you!”
Shuga pressed her lips shut. Now that she knew the truth, she wanted no more words.
And in any case, words would never reach him.
“If a sacrifice had been made, our house would never have crumbled! One person, just one each generation! If that had been done, the Empire would be named Lweir, not Bolscheik! That’s why even now, I’ll offer you in payment! O great god!”
At that moment, Shuga’s dark-red eyes trembled, and from between lips gasping shallow breaths came a whisper.
“…Damn the ancient god.”
It was so soft she herself could not hear it.
But to Cryer, leaning against the wall just beyond the door, it rang clear.
The door opened—though no one saw it move—and a rush of cold air swept in. Shuga’s hair was stirred, and the next instant her brother’s arms hung limp, both shoulders dislocated.
Crack.
Like thunder, the sound came after the sight. Pain surged only then, and his mouth tore open with a shriek.
“Gaaahhh! Aaaagh! Aaaaaaagh! Aaahhh—”
“Noisy.”
“Guh!”
Olivia, frowning and covering her ears, muttered coldly. Cryer slammed his fist into the man’s temple, and he collapsed unconscious.
Olivia nudged him with her toe as if he were trash. Cryer promptly kicked him into the corner of the room.
Then Olivia lifted Shuga, covering the brand, and met her eyes.
“What do you want to do?”
Though she named nothing, Shuga understood.
What should be done with that beast lying there, no longer worthy of the word brother.
“…I…”
She didn’t cry, but her throat closed tight, and she could not finish.
Olivia did not comfort her. She didn’t say it was all right, didn’t excuse her brother’s words as meaningless.
Shuga was young, but not a fool. Empty words would mean nothing.
So Olivia waited. Until Shuga spoke for herself.
Time passed—an eternity in the child’s heart.
At last, a voice slipped from her lips.
“…Treason.”
“What?”
“Judge him for treason.”
Olivia tilted her head, but Isaac, pinning the man down, chuckled.
“He did say with his own mouth that the Empire should have been Lweir, not Bolscheik.”
“Treason, then.”
Cryer’s harsh tone left Isaac flinching as he bound the man’s ruined arms even tighter.
By now the man should have awakened from the pain—but whatever Cryer had done, he remained limp and unmoving.
The matter of his fate decided quickly and simply, Shuga clutched at her clothes and bowed her head.
No tears fell, but her ragged, uneven breathing betrayed how she fought to hold them back.
Olivia’s gaze lingered. She drew an arm slowly around the trembling shoulders.
The child shuddered, but still, stubbornly, did not cry.
And Olivia did not urge her to. She did not say let it out, nor you’ll feel better once you cry.
Everyone has their own way of bearing pain, and her words might only sound like command.
So she simply shared her warmth, waiting as before.
Meanwhile Isaac carried the man away, and Cryer watched Olivia and Shuga with smoldering crimson eyes.
He recalled the man’s blasphemous shouts, then closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, he met Olivia’s gaze. She shook her head.
So Cryer said nothing.
“Nngh.”
Olivia startled slightly at the sudden heaviness in her arms. Shuga had gone limp, unconscious.
“Where shall I put her?”
Cryer had already lifted the child into his embrace.
“Not this room. Somewhere else.”
“You mean to keep her in the palace?”
“…Perhaps.”
Olivia did not decide immediately, nor did she press the matter.
This was no mere chore to be dealt with like refuse. The child’s future had to be chosen with care, however long it took.
She brushed a strand of hair from Shuga’s brow and whispered.
“Rest now.”
And as those words settled upon her blue hair, Shuga’s expression seemed, at last, a little more at peace.
