Chapter 21: This Demon
The snow continued to fall, covering the streets and houses in pure white, while the commotion of the loud explosion at the orphanage drew the attention of the guards, who were hurrying towards the scene.
In the orphanage, blood pooled in red puddles, soaked with a liquid that still steamed in the cold. The flakes melted as they touched the open entrails of the corpses, as if winter itself was trying to clean up the carnage and failing.
The smell was unbearable: hot iron, burst guts. It was not just the stench of death, but the stench of slaughter.
Smoke clung to the air, thick. The bodies were not corpses, but jigsaw puzzles of flesh: arms ripped off, heads split in half, torsos ripped open like burst sacks.
The snow tried to cover them, but the blood melted it, exposing pieces of children, of nuns, of assailants... all equally mangled.
The cries were not of pain, but of horror: nuns with habits drenched in red, dragging what was left of their legs; children clutching their intestines as if they could shove them back in.
Kael, black Taoist robe splattered with blood and scraps of flesh, decapitated the last nearby attacker with his coin sword. Then, he glanced around with an indifferent expression.
The scene did not shock him. On the contrary, it reaffirmed his vision of this world.
Life and death always walk hand in hand. If I don’t become strong enough, I will end up like them: dead.
There is no such thing as justice. Compassion is a luxury that the weak allow themselves just before they are buried. In this world, everything is a tool or a hindrance.
Kael turned to look at the man who had cut off his arms and legs, who was passed out on the ground.