Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 65 - A Crack

"Such a childish display of strength, Hellix," Nickelson remarked, his voice dripping with disdain. "You threw Cerille's sword the moment you saw me. Was that some feeble attempt to undermine my credibility or respect?"

"I'll admit, I'm childish in more ways than not," Van responded flatly, the sword strapped to his back. "But trust me, Nickelson, if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have been so indirect. That guard was particularly obnoxious, and seeing your face from afar was the final straw."

Nickelson went silent, his gaze fixed ahead as they walked side by side through the capital's gates.

"Threats won't get you far," Nickelson finally said after a pause. "Especially not here."

Van let out a soft, mocking chuckle, recalling the Royal Guards' silence when he displayed his strength.

"Are you suggesting I find someone to torture for no reason? Seems to have worked wonders for you," Van spat cynically, his eyes scrutinizing Nickelson's pristine armor, a symbol of the respect and status he commanded.

"Whatever my reasons for what I did back then, Hellix, I had connections," Nickelson replied, his tone cold and detached. "I made more, and then I made a name for myself through battles and spectacle. As much as you think you've suffered, you're not—and never were—nearly as important as you believe, especially in relation to my status now. Whatever moments we shared might amount to a mere fraction of my time."

"Oh, I'm well aware," Van shot back. "But don't mistake this: we didn't share anything. The only thing you and the other guards shared was the fear that Magus would fuck your wives. And he would have, considering he was balls deep in your queen. So, you took those frustrations out on me and went on with the other 99% of your oh-so-busy schedule."

Nickelson clicked his tongue in irritation, looking away as they continued walking. A heavy silence stretched between them as they marched under the shadow of the capital's mighty walls, the end of their path drawing near.

Van's mind flashed to the memory of Nickelson shielding Cerille with his body as he let out a deep sigh.

"Either way, take it," Van said, his voice steady as he unstrapped the sword from his back and handed it to Nickelson. "Your daughter's sword."

Nickelson looked at Van, narrowing his eyes as he accepted the sword, Van's own gaze was fixed ahead.

Without a word, he reached out, expecting resistance. But Van relented, releasing the sword into Nickelson's grip without hesitation.

Dozens of words and arguments lodged in Nickelson's throat, along with questions that demanded answers. After a brief pause, he finally spoke.

"...Why don't you hurt me for what I've done?" he asked, Van's head flicking upward slightly. "Even back then. You had every chance to finish me, and you didn't take it."

"Considering your monstrous strength, you could do it right now—wipe me from existence, and no one would ever know. Is your respect for... That Varlog's teachings so great that it overshadows everything I've done to you?" Nickelson continued, his tone biting. "Or are you just a coward, like the Meaty you were back then?"

"I do want to hurt you," Van admitted, his voice even. "And you're right. As much respect as I have for Varlog, even he wouldn't say a word if something happened to you. He's the one who taught me that honesty sometimes means lying to everyone else. He's a part of that group."

"Then why don't you finish it!?" Nickelson snarled, his teeth clenched in frustration.

"Because then I'd be hurting two people, not just you," Van replied, his voice softening.