《I Win to be Heard (litRPG)》Guilt Cannot be Fought CH 38 / update notes

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7 years ago...

“Stop following me,” Islaw said, looking back at Saya from the corner of his eye.

Saya was a little taller than half his size, but she refused to budge. {I won’t leave you. They shouldn’t have made you do this.} she insisted, before nearly tripping on a stick.

Islaw shook his head, his long, dark blond hair swaying with his head. “This is my rite, Saya. A little girl like you shouldn’t be here.”

Saya gripped her slate tight, glaring with determination.

“Fine, if you won’t leave, just stay back. You shouldn’t get hurt.”

She nodded, no less fierce.

Islaw suddenly cut down with his machete, then carried Saya away like a princess as a tree slowly fell to the ground where he had once stood. “See, Saya? The Cobold Valley isn’t meant for little kids.”

“Hmmph.” Saya emoted, stubborn. He was only ten, four years older than her. She could handle herself too!

Islaw just sighed. Who knew mute little girls were the epitome of stupid. He set her down. “Well, if you’re going to be here, at least look around for traps. The [cobold]s have them all over the place. Tell me if you see tripwires, [cobold]s, pressure plates, or anything strange.”

She nodded.

Well, at least the stupid girl wanted to help.

They kept walking through the woods, occasionally stopping to observe monster tracks or spring a trap preemptively. It was another hour before they could see their destination, looming over the forest. It was a colossus larger than anything they had ever seen.

From there, it was a simple matter of walking to it safely.

Saya and Islaw slowly walked into the clearing, the Mudmule’s trail, and looked at the creature in awe.

The mudmule was a third of the neighboring mountain’s height, almost three hundred feet tall. It was so heavy that its hooves dug twenty feet into the ground beneath. It had a bushy, frilly, brown anklet of hair and was covered in dirt from its knee down. Its skin was white, meant to repel sunlight, and its mane small, like any other mule, but still large enough to be somebody’s bed.

The Mudmule’s legs were only a few meters away from the children, so close they could count the individual hairs on it.

The Mudmule moved its long head down, its head hovering over the children, and snapped its jaw at some nearby trees before violently ripping them from their roots, then pulverizing them between its jaws as it raised its head to chew.

The Islaw, frozen in terrified awe along with Saya, instinctually covered her with his body as woodchips rained from above. She could feel him as he was battered by the hail of wood, trembling with each massive piece that hit him. A few ends of the trees, which hadn’t been swallowed immediately by the Mudmule, fell to the ground not far away, the tremors from their falls softened by the mud but still felt from ten feet away.

When Islaw let go, Saya saw blood trail from his head onto his shirt.

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When he looked down at Saya, his expression one of pain, Saya wiped a hand on his blood and showed it to him, a scared expression on her face, trying to communicate that he had been hurt.

Islaw placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Saya. I’ll be fine.” He looked up to the Mudmule just as it lowered its neck once more and began to lick up its scraps. They could see it staring at them as it did so, its eye only a few feet from them.

Islaw immediately lost his cool and stumbled to the ground, scared, but Saya looked it in the eye with a defensive look. She was a big girl, and she wouldn’t let a big, lazy mule scare her!

She walked up to the creature as it licked the ground, her arm shaking, and grabbed a massive hair at the bottom of its jaw. She tugged at it, trying to pull the hair out. The creature froze, for whatever reason, letting her do it out of curiosity.

“Saya, what are you doing?!” Islaw ran at her and pulled her away, ripping the hair off in the process.

The Mudmule scoffed in annoyance, raising its head in mild pain

Saya wormed her way from Islaw’s grip, then presented the hair to him. It was what he needed, right? A hair from the Mudmule’s neck to prove himself? Surely one from its face would be good enough!

He swatted it from her hand. “I don’t need your handouts, Saya! Stay out of this.” Islaw stormed off, fueled by raw determination, and leaped onto the Mudmule’s anklet. He began to climb its leg, furiously grabbing tufts of hair and using them as handholds.

For a few minutes, Islaw climbed, recovering from a few slips that made the young Saya’s face twist with fear, but just before he got onto the creature’s back, it moved forward, trotting on with lazy steps fast enough to jerk an unprepared Islaw off a hair, slipping off.

Saya watched in terror as he fell from its top, grasping at the creature’s leg hairs, slipping off them. Then, with a furious yell, he unsheathed a dagger on his belt, and plunged it into the creature’s thigh, tearing almost ten feet of its skin to slow his fall, and snatching another tuft of hair to fully balance himself.

“You seeing this, Saya!” He yelled to Saya from a hundred and fifty feet up. “Mom thinks he can kill me off with this mule crap, but you don’t need to be scared for me! Though...” he began, muttering to himself, “She should know of all people that the Darwain family is the stubbornest bloodline there is. After all...” He began to climb once more, grinning under the pressure. “we’re her children.”

Islaw began to climb once more, resheathing his dagger to do so, and eventually, he made it onto its back, walked to the Mudmule’s mane, then ripped a hair out. The creature shook its head, annoyed, but he gripped the rest of the mane, staying on, balanced.

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When he was finished, Islaw raised it up in triumph, yelling proudly, then put the hair in his mouth and began to climb down.

The Mudmuled moved forward again as he did so, but after it caught Islaw off guard once, he refused to let it do it again, gripping on with all his foolish pride. Eventually, he leaped off, into the mud below and trudged to Saya, waving the hair around with pride.

They hugged, both shivering with a mix of excitement and fear. Then, Islaw grabbed Saya’s hand. “Come on, let’s gloat about this to mom. She’s going to be soooo pissed I got away with this.”

Saya nodded, the same expression of thrill Islaw on her face.

He knew then that Saya probably wasn’t going to be the sweet, tame [mage] their mom wanted her to be.

“Stop being a brat, Islaw.” My mom said when we returned.

We were in front of their homestead, not far from the village’s walls. Around, there were many other homesteads, most a good sixty feet apart, loosely connected by a gravel path. A few people chatted together as they walked wherever. Not too far away, the guard station stood, the younger [squire]s warming down from their training session, which Islaw was meant to attend that day, the sun setting. I was behind Islaw, silently cheering and looking out for him.

Islaw held the Mudmule’s hair between his two hands, determined and almost smug. When his mother said what she did, his smile faded. “What? A brat? What’s that even supposed to mean?!”

Mom wore tight-fitting clothes with a visible dagger at her belt. As one of the few magic-users and best fighters in the village, she was among the most respected people, and held herself like she was, never showing weakness, and standing erect at all times, her hair tied into two buns. “You’re acting entitled to this. Neither your dad nor I said you could train to be a [seamster].”

“Wha-But you did!” Islaw yelled, placing a hand on his chest. “You told me that I could do what I wanted when I fulfilled the village rite. I got the mane of the Great Mudmule, and I returned, not a scratch on me!”

“Yes, you did. You did not fulfill the rite.”

“How!? I-”

“The rite is for those who have turned sixteen, as is established by custom. Do you see any other boys turning their backs on their lineage? Did you see any other 10-year-old boys on the Mudmule’s back, plucking its mane?”

“No, but that’s all the more reason-”

“That’s all there is to talk about on this subject, Islaw. When the time comes, you will repeat the rite. If you really want to refuse our long history as protectors of the village, then you will wait.” She turned her back to Islaw and began to talk towards the door. “Hun,” she said, talking to my father, who leaned against the house, dressed in baggy clothes fit for a farmer, which he was, as the [overseer] of the fields. “Could you-”

“Well...” Islaw began, trying to find the right words. Mom glanced back at him, a decidedly threatening edge in her gaze, an aura of intimidation freezing Islaw in place for just a moment. “W-well f-fuck...you, mom!” he said, not quite understanding what the words meant, just knowing they explained what he thought of mom.

Mom’s face scrunched up in fury, and dad looked a little offended but calm as he took a step forward. I didn’t really know what Islaw had said, but I could feel the tension rise. Islaw had a moment of hesitation as he saw their reaction, but what was probably pride made him retain an aggressive stance.

Mom slowly walked up to him, towering over with a hateful expression. “You should really learn to quit.” She smacked Islaw too fast for either of us to react, sending him tumbling a meter away.

I froze as he tumbled, unsure how to feel, but dad increased his pace, worried. “Taisha! He doesn’t know what he-” dad began before mom cut him off.

“I know, hun, but Islaw needs to learn...” She picked a disoriented Islaw up from his shirt. “Some humility.”

She drove a knee into his gut, making Islaw sputter, his eyes bulging. I began to run to stop her, my heart burning with fear for my brother, only for mom to harmlessly shove me to the ground.

“Take Saya inside. She shouldn’t see this.”

Dad finally stopped, a sad expression on his face, then relented and picked me up, even as I struggled to get up and help Islaw. I squirmed in his grasp, yelling, only for an invisible force to make me gag on my own voice. I cried out incoherently, trying to say anything for my brother, my heart beating wildly, hating what I was seeing.

Mom threw Islaw to the ground, eliciting a grunt of pain from him, then grabbed his hand and began to drag him across the gravel, probably to the shed, which was outside the town walls. He didn’t have the strength to move, and even if he could, struggling would only mean the gravel hurt him more.

I tried to escape dad’s grasp, wanting desperately to save my brother from harm, my body pulsing like I was ready for a fight.

This is my fault.

I activated [life wing], bursting from his arms and hitting the ground running, wanting to tear my brother away. Just before I reached Islaw, I saw him shake his head at me.

Then, dad caught me, licking me into a firmer grip, making certain I couldn’t leave.

“You can’t go with him, Saya. Mom needs you to stay with me.”

I tried to call out Islaw’s name, but all I did was choke on myself, suffocating...

Suffocating in guilt, a horrid feeling, a unwarranted feeling, one with no resolution, and no purpose.

I gave up and let dad carry me back into the house as my brother was dragged across the gravel stones to be beaten.

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