My Sister Is The Villainess

The air around the mountain was damp and heavy, the kind of damp that clung to skin and seeped into clothes until everything felt faintly alive. Lee had already told us where the hunters would be, and he led us through the wet, sagging land without a word. Mud sucked at our boots.

Far above, halfway up the slope, the temple of Culex sat against the sky like a tooth in a rotting jaw.

I tried not to look at it too long.

’That is where we are going. Eventually.’

”Stay low,” Lee murmured. ”The ground here is full of Ferals.”

”How full?” Theodore asked.

”Full enough that you should not ask.”

Theodore went quiet.

We had not gone another hundred steps when something skittered through the mud ahead of us.

[You Are Looking At A Feral Flesh: Desplixit]

I stopped.

It was a crab. Or it had been, once, in some other, kinder version of the world. This one had five eyes arranged in a crooked row, four jointed legs that bent in directions they should not have, and a shell so warped it looked as though someone had tried to fold it back into shape and given up halfway. It was small, barely larger than a dog’s head.

”Well,” I said, ”that is horrible.”

”Small one,” Lee noted. ”Flesh class. No mind. Do not bother.”

I nodded.

The crab did not agree.

It lunged. Five eyes rolled in five different directions, and then it was on my boot, clamping down with a mouth full of tiny, needle-sharp teeth.

”Mr. Edmund!” Arthur yelped.

”I am fine.”

I looked down.

I was, in fact, fine. There was a pressure, a dull pinch, the sensation of someone sinking a fork into a thick steak. My body was strong enough that the teeth barely mattered to me.

’Annoying, more than anything to be honest.’

I shook my leg once. The crab held on.

I shook it harder.

It held on harder, and made a wet clicking noise that I could only describe as spiteful.

”Is it... stuck?” Sera asked. There was a trembling at the corner of her mouth.

”Do not laugh.”

”I am not laughing.”

”You are definitely laughing.”

”I am a mere observer.”

I sighed. ’Fine.’

I extended my hand, and light gathered in my palm, crackling and white. Thunder Sunlight formed in my grip, the blade humming softly, tiny arcs of lightning crawling along its edge.

”Hold still,” I told the creature.

It did not hold still, because it was a damned thing.

I drove the sword straight down.

There was almost no resistance. The blade slid through the warped shell like a hot knife through butter, and the lightning poured inside. For a heartbeat the creature’s five eyes glowed bright, then dark.

A smell drifted up, sharp and smoky, like a fire cooking something it should not have been.

The crab went limp as I pulled my blade free, and a few sparks crawled over the remains, cooking whatever was left.

”Brutal,” Theodore whispered.

”Efficient,” Arthur corrected, with a small, proud nod.

”Disgusting,” Sera said.

”All three,” Lee said dryly.

[You Have Acquired A New Gift!]

[Piercing Leaf]

[Description: A Leaf That Flies At High Speeds]

[Rank: Latent]

I blinked.

’A gift? From that thing?’

I checked the description. A leaf, that was all. A single leaf that could fly at high speed and pierce through whatever stood in its way, much like a Kunai.

”Did you get anything?” Arthur asked eagerly.

”A leaf.”

”A... leaf?”

”A very fast leaf.”

Theodore looked at me for a long moment.

”That is the most embarrassing sentence I have ever heard.”

”Say that when it goes through your skull.”

”I will be dead and unable to say anything.”

”Exactly. Hehehe.”

Lee made a sound that might have been a laugh, then caught himself and cleared his throat. ”Quiet. We are close.”

He guided us toward a large tree that stood alone beside the path. It was dead, black and bare, its branches clawing at the sky like the fingers of a drowned man. There was not a single leaf on it, which struck me as a joke I did not appreciate, considering what I had just gained.

”Here,” Lee said. ”They pass this way every few hours.”

We crouched behind the trunk. The bark was damp and cold against my shoulder. Sera pressed in on my left, Arthur on my right, Theodore somewhere behind, breathing a little too loudly.

”Breathe quieter,” I whispered.

”I am trying.”

”Try harder.”

”That is not how breathing f*cking works.”

Silence fell.

The wait stretched on, long and thin. A cold wind crept through the branches above us, and somewhere in the distance something screeched and went quiet again.

’What the hell was that.’

The plan kind of sounded wise when I said it by the fire. Out here, in the mud, with my heart thudding against my ribs, it sounded a lot more like a very good way to die.

”Edmund,” Sera breathed.

”I hear it.”

Footsteps. Heavy, careless, the sound of people who believed the road belonged to them.

Voices drifted through the mist, rough and loud.

”...told you, the captain wants the count by tonight.”

”The captain can count it himself.”

”Say that to his face.”

”I would, if I wanted to lose it.”

Laughter followed, thin and nervous.

Slowly, I leaned out past the edge of the trunk.

Five figures were coming down the path. Four men and one woman. The men wore mismatched armor, patched and dented and held together with whatever they could find, and they carried spears and short blades that looked more worn than sharp. The woman walked a little apart from them, her hood pulled low, a bow slung across her back.

Her eyes kept moving. Left. Right. Up. Back.

’She is the careful one.’

’The others are loud because they are afraid. She is quiet because she is smart.’

I filed the thought away.

Beside me, Lee tensed. His lips barely moved.

”Those are the ones,” he whispered. ”They hunt in this area every day.”

I watched them come closer, boots splashing through the mud, their voices rising and falling.

Arthur’s hand found my sleeve. I looked at him. He gave a tiny nod, his eyes wide but steady.

Sera’s fingers brushed her weapon.

Theodore swallowed.

’Alright, Culex,’ I thought. ’Let’s see how afraid your people really are.’

The footsteps drew closer.

And closer.

And then they stopped, right in front of our tree.