Because I’m a Weapon Shop Uncle Vol 2 Chapter 18

The Uncle and the Reunion (part 4)

The rain pattered down on the earth. As the entire world was filled with dense lines of rain.

The rain fell on tree leaves which couldn’t bear the load. The leaves slanted slightly, and the freshwater flowed to the ground.

I sloppily wiped off my face, but it was no use. In the blink of an eye, my face had already been soaked by the rain.

When it rains, sometimes hiding underneath a tree will make you more wet, because the rain drops converge and become even bigger droplets.

Jumping off tree branches, leaping high. It was just like flying.

But in the end, I was not a free bird.

Because of the downpour, I couldn’t see the sunrise. I had no idea what time it was.

All I could do was rush forward with my greatest speed to my goal.

This was the first time I had used “Little Miracle” so many times to offset low magic power, so I didn’t really know what I was feeling. Ordinarily, to senselessly gain such magic, there would be a certain price to pay.

That time, it suddenly started to rain.

I pulled out my spear from the ground.

At that time, I was temporarily unsatisfied.

I was dissatisfied with that expression.

From the bottom of their heart, accepting death, wearing a miserable smile.

I believed that executioners didn’t have the qualifications to show that kind of expression.

The first time I saw that expression was when I was little.

My father was the village teacher. He wore gold-rimmed gla.s.ses, and he was educated and tidy, gentle and elegant.

My mother was an ordinary village girl who knew how to weave and cook, but was illiterate.

My impression of them was very fuzzy.

I only remembered their warm smiles; perhaps that was the reason why I liked Ailee later.

When I was six years old, they were sentenced to death.

Their sin was sheltering a demon.

A month prior, my parents had found a Forest kind boy at their door, just five to six years old. HIs clothes were full of holes, and he was covered in wounds. I didn’t know that he was demon, so I pulled at my father’s pants and pleaded him to save him.

Father fiercely shrugged off my hand. In my impression, he rarely angered.

But at that time, he slapped my face and shut the wooden door.

However, after a few hours, my father and mother decided to take him in.

Because his expression was really too pitiable. He was like a heavily wounded baby animal.

He and I became good friends, and we would play together every day.

A month later, I didn’t know how the information was leaked, but we were found out by an inspection official.

I was barred from going forward by metal spears stuck in the ground, and I shouted out desperately.

He sent me a final gaze, and then I felt like my chest was pierced through.

The demon was sentenced on the spot soon after, and my parents were sentenced to death.

The tall wooden platform held the shiny guillotine. With both hands bound, my father and mother walked to the stage with slow and heavy steps.

I stood at the very front of the crowd, not knowing what was going on.

Everybody’s eyes were very scary, like they wanted to swallow my mother and father whole.

A vile hatred bubbled forth in me standing there.

At that time, I was still small. I couldn’t understand why they were taken from me in such a humiliating fashion, and I didn’t understand what my father and mother’s death would mean for me.

I only trembled, trembled from the depth of my heart.

In the crowd, I raised my unsettled gaze to my father and mother standing in front of the guillotine.

I saw my parents wearing smiles.

Their eyes narrowed, corners of their mouths upturned.

But their brows were lowered in gloom.

In that kind of heart-breaking situation, smiles that accepted their fortune.

Then, at that time, I smiled.

I believed my parents were fine, I believed that they were happy, I believed that this was just a show.

So I smiled. Using a smile to respond to a smile was the common courtesy my father taught me.

So , I smiled as I watched Father and Mother lower their head and die.

I smiled, up until their heads rolled on the ground.

I was still smiling as unfathomable tears rolled down.

I didn’t hate this world; I just hated the demon.

I hated that demon with shabby clothing that so pitiably appeared at our door, the demon that my parents saved.

So I wanted to expel all of them.

I would become a hero, a hero that would protect everything.

So I entered the Expedition Regiment.

I vowed that from now on, I wouldn’t allow anyone to show the kind of expression that my father wore at their deaths.

But when I was vanquishing Scampelier, I suddenly woke up.

Even if she wore that expression, I couldn’t so easily forgive her.

I pulled out my steel spear from the ground, and another burst of rain poured down harshly.

I used the Fast Pierce Style to thrust countless times. Combined with my outstanding speed, Scampelier’s surroundings were soon filled with the afterimages of the spear.

But the spear never delivered a fatal blow, and was obstructed by a clang.

I exerted all my effort, not caring at all for the speed of magic consumption.

I needed to defeat her.

To defeat her……

But when I was unleashing another torrent of attacks, I discovered a slight abnormality.

I could finally cross swords firmly together with Scampelier, and the sickle and spear would come in contact.

But she kept transmitting to me an eternal loneliness.

It wasn’t the stench of blood of an executioner, but rather a simple loneliness.

After this moment, my train of thought headed in a strange direction.

Why was I fighting with Scampelier?

Because she killed countless of people, because she was a vile monster. Demons were the embodiment of evil, and I was a hero.

But those were just ideas that humans have put in me.

Up until now, I had killed countless demons. From low ranking ones without intelligence, to those with intelligence, demons living together. I have killed innumerable demons, so many that I can’t even count them. Every time we went on expedition it was like a party because we were the invincible, the unbeatable First Division.

All that things that I had done, was it any different from a ma.s.sacre in the demons’ eyes?

“You and I are just as pitiful.”

When I thought of those words again, I understood how lonely Scampelier was.

At that moment, I wavered.

The justice I had believed in had collapsed.

So I let Scampelier send me flying and dropped my spear.

I let her use the last of her magic to warp s.p.a.ce and escape.

Because the me at that time felt like I had no qualifications to punish her.

Of course, this was just my sense of righteousness. At that time, I did what I believed was right, but right now it looks like a mistake.

If I were the only person in the battle, letting Scampelier go would leave me with no regrets.

But with three hundred teammates sacrificed prior to this, this reasoning can’t stand.

On this world, all people harbor their own sense of what is right, and everyone has things they believe they should do.

So how do you distinguish that what you’ve done is right or not?

It’s very simple. There is no right thing to lay down your life for.