Chapter 17

“Looks like that’s everything. Ah—no, there’s one thing left. Welcome back. Cheers.” Three Thousandth raised an empty glass.

“…Wait, this is the welcome-back banquet?”

“He’s settling it with this? This half-hearted toast?”

“This shamelessly?”

The guests grumbled as they half-heartedly raised their glasses in return. Mariax glanced at Oze across the table. He looked utterly miserable, having even lost his drink. Despite his pitch-black face, his expression showed clearly—it was oddly fascinating.

At that moment, Oze suddenly threw his head back and opened his mouth wide. A high-pitched, sharp sound—like a bird’s scream—rang out. The piercing wave cut through the commotion in the hall. In an instant, all attention shifted to Oze.

“We have a guest. Shall we get ready?”

The lighthearted glimmer vanished from the eyes of those who had been laughing like fools. A sharp alertness replaced it. Mariax too sensed something approaching—its presence hidden within the gusts of wind.

Crash!

A tapestry-covered window in the banquet hall exploded with a tremendous noise. A wooden shard grazed Mariax’s cheek, leaving a shallow cut. The intruder rushed in faster than the storm outside. A white figure crashed down onto a table loaded with food. Bang, shatter, clatter! Dishes and food flew into the air.

The white form slid across the long central table on the tablecloth, gliding fast. Snowflakes blowing into the hall and glittering scales falling from the intruder sparkled in the air.

It was the size of a massive elk, with white hair, pale eyes, a sleek white body with graceful curves, and a tail reminiscent of a fish. A snow mermaid—sighted sometimes during blizzards. But it didn’t look quite like the ones Mariax knew. Unlike typical snow mermaids, it had long, icicle-like fangs, two extra pairs of arms, and lacked the bewitching voice they were known for.

【Kyaaaaaaah!】

“Agh!” Oze clutched his ears and stumbled.

【AaaaAAAAAAHH!】

The mermaid’s scream-like song carried an edge of ecstasy. It writhed along the table with its six arms and flicking tail. At the end of its path was Mariax. Its mouth opened wider and wider. It looked like it was smiling—but drool streamed between its menacing fangs, a clear sign of hunger.

I need to move…

The distance closed fast. Her mind remained calm, but her body was frozen. Mariax stared, motionless, as the mermaid barreled toward her. 

The threat was almost upon her.

“Doesn’t look like it came to rescue you.”

The voice was calm, low, unbothered by the chaos. Before Mariax could register who it was, a large hand wrapped around her waist. Her body was pulled away by powerful force. Just before her face hit a firm chest, she caught one last glimpse—Gart, kicking the mermaid aside with casual indifference.

Boom!

The mermaid slammed into the wall. The impact was louder than the window shattering. Mariax, stiff as a board, gasped for breath. The sharp scent of herbs and faint smell of blood burrowed into her curled-up senses.

Only after smelling that did she realize she was in a man’s arms. Her forehead throbbed where it had hit his chest. She cautiously looked up. His calm, even grey eyes betrayed no emotion—like he found the situation dull. Gart glanced briefly at her.

“Familiar face?”

She turned her head. The mermaid was getting back up, staggering. Mariax’s breath caught.

It was horrifying. Part of its head was caved in, skin shredded and torn from hitting the cabinet. Blood streamed from various wounds. From its chest protruded a round gem, blood pouring out around it like a river. That gem marked the queen of the snow mermaids. Recognizing it, Mariax recalled the queen she once knew—but that queen hadn’t been this large, hadn’t had extra limbs, or such monstrous teeth. This must’ve been a queen from another group.

Mariax gave a slight shake of her head.

“Really?” Gart muttered, mildly surprised.

The mermaid crawled along the floor, refusing to collapse. It tried to lift itself, but others had already blocked the window with cabinets, stopping the snow and wind from entering. Without that, a snow mermaid couldn’t fly. Their quick thinking was impressive.

The towering man called Salenoch raised his axe high above his head, poised to strike.

“Wait.”

At Gart’s command, the massive axe halted. The mermaid paid no attention to the danger overhead, and crawled slowly forward. The dented skull, the bleeding—death was imminent. Even the mermaid must’ve known it. Yet it made no move to escape. It stared in one direction and crawled forward. Toward Gart and Mariax.

Mariax didn’t think she would have made that choice. Gart’s presence, like a suffocating pressure, filled the room the moment the fight began. Even the mermaid must have felt he was stronger than anyone else there.

Fear of death was a primal, inescapable instinct—hardwired into mind and flesh. Mariax couldn’t imagine anyone choosing to override that with mere desire.

Shh—shh.

The blood-soaked bulk of its body scraped the floor, making a chilling sound. Mariax stared into its eyes as it approached. Maybe that was it—desire, so intense it made instinct forget itself. She wanted to know what that desire was. But in its eyes, there was nothing but her. Mariax—and only Mariax.

With every step closer, its pale pupils gleamed with rapture. Goosebumps rose along her arm. As she instinctively began to back away, the hand still around her waist gently stopped her. Mariax found herself trapped within Gart’s arms, forced to watch the mermaid advance.

Finally, it reached her feet. That’s when Gart, who had simply been watching, made his move. He pressed his foot down on the mermaid’s head. Not a kick like before—just enough pressure to pin it in place. Long claws scraped the floor, shrieking. It looked frustrated, unable to reach her. Beneath Gart’s boot, the mermaid writhed for a moment, then opened its jaws. Broken fangs and a long, blood-soaked tongue lolled out.

Wet, sticky sounds echoed as the tongue slithered like a snake. It crept toward Mariax, coiling around her ankle. The slimy, slippery tongue slowly traced up her skin.

Mariax went pale. Her breathing stopped, then came in panicked gasps. She wanted to run, but couldn’t. Gart’s hand still held her waist—not forcing her down, but clearly defining the boundary of movement she was allowed. From the space where she stood, to the arm wrapped around her from behind—only a handspan wide. No room to hide.

The red tongue slid past her shin and brushed the tender skin behind her knee. Mariax shuddered violently. The textured surface against her sensitive skin was revolting.

The tongue lifted the hem of her long tunic like a theater curtain. A line of blood trickled down her exposed shin—a cut from the shattered window. The tongue followed the red trail upward, licking the wound with eerie care. A surge of nausea rose, and Mariax clenched her mouth shut. She hadn’t eaten, but her stomach churned.

Gulp.

The mermaid’s throat bobbed visibly. Then it shivered, and tore its mouth wide open in what looked like laughter. At the same time, a violent fluctuation surged through its divine energy—plunging, then swelling, then surging again like crashing waves. Its tail twitched in pleasure. Crack! The gem in its chest fractured. Something dangerous was building.

Then came Gart’s calm voice.

“Salenoch.”

“Yes!”

At his call, the burly man brought his axe down on the mermaid’s neck. Smash! The axe embedded deep into the stone floor. Blood pooled in the cracks. The severed head rolled and came to rest at Mariax’s feet. The mermaid, its face flushed red with blood and excitement, kept licking the blood. As if unaware it had been beheaded.

Mariax met its eyes—still fixed only on her. She was too stunned to even think of looking away.

Then Gart’s boot came down on the mermaid’s face.

With a sickening crunch, Mariax instinctively shut her eyes tight.

Thud. Crack!

The sound of something hard breaking rang out. Something hot and sticky splattered across her legs. The mermaid’s tongue instantly went limp. The divine power that had shaken the room died down. The creature was dead.

It had all happened in an instant.

Mariax couldn’t bring herself to look down. Her soaked clothes clung to her legs unpleasantly. The stench of blood made her dizzy with nausea. Still dazed, she watched Gart pass by her side—his composure undisturbed, as if crushing something to death beneath his heel was no more than brushing dust from his coat.

“Oze, confirm it.”