I didn’t like violence. But I wasn't naive enough to deny its usefulness. Its effectiveness is exactly why it never disappears—and why wretched things like “war” exist.
This was clearly one of those times.
“Zoë! Zoë!!”
The kids screamed, cheering her name in triumph. I rushed to her side and pulled her into my arms.
“Ah… Di…”
Only now did she notice me, a faint smile curling her lips.
“Good god…”
Her injuries were concentrated on her arms, where she’d guarded against Eva’s claws. None were deep, but over twenty cuts streaked her skin.
Not fatal. But not something to ignore either. Without hesitation, I called upon the Snake.
Black snakes coiled around her arms, emerald light flooding the room. One by one, the gashes vanished.
The cuts were shallow, but the sheer number demanded a heavy toll of divine power. Dizziness struck me. I nearly collapsed, but Zoë held me.
“…”
I exhaled sharply.
I didn't care why they were fighting.
Zoë was a gentle child. If she fought, there was a reason. That was enough. I wouldn’t ask pointless questions.
And being a dwarf, she wouldn’t volunteer an explanation, anyway. Her kind were stoic, doing what needed to be done without wasting words.
Amid the children’s cheers, we leaned against each other in silence, supporting one another.
That was when Abby finally returned from the bath.
“…”
Her eyes narrowed immediately—first on me holding Zoë, then on the gaping hole in the wall and the unconscious Eva sprawled beyond it. Her gaze flicked to Ashita, fidgeting with wide, guilty eyes.
“Don’t tell me… it was Zoë?” At last, Abby asked.
Ashita gave a small nod, staring at the floor. Abby’s expression hardened.
“…Ashita. Come here.”
Earlier in the bath, Abby had praised Ashita’s brute strength. Within the group, her role was clear: deterrence. She was the police force of this little pack.
And tonight, she had failed.
Eva's being knocked out wasn’t the problem. The problem was Ashita standing by, doing nothing. She had betrayed Abby’s expectations.
Worse still—Zoë, the newcomer’s ally, had just bested a long-standing veteran.
The hierarchy of the group had shifted.
And as Abby had planned.
“Ashita… you know what this means, don’t you?”
Abby’s voice dripped with fury, her sharp eyes blazing at Ashita.
◇◆
After that, I stopped treating the kids’ diseases.
For now, it was only skin ailments. Soon, infections might spread. Some might even die. So be it.
I’d had enough.
I washed my hands of Abby’s little hive.
If Ashita had acted as Abby intended and had stopped Eva, nothing would have changed. I would have kept supporting her.
But the truth had driven an irreparable wedge between us.
Zoë—my Zoë—had been forced into this.
If Ashita had acted, I wouldn’t make this group my “trash bin” any longer. But she hadn’t.
“Abby. Zoë and I are moving to another room. You got a problem with that?”
“Tch.”
She bit her lip hard. She understood immediately.
I favored Zoë. She stood by my side. Her fight had put me on the front lines.
Win or lose, Ashita should never have let Zoë and Eva clash. Allowing it was no different from Abby’s brood rejecting me outright.
I leaned down, whispering in Zoë’s ear.
“They’re contagious. Don’t get too close.”
“Got it~”
She clung to me, her usual spoiled tone, sticking close.
“…”
Abby stayed silent, lips pressed thin.
So, Queen Bee… you underestimated them, didn't you?
A hive that doesn’t obey is far harder to manage than you imagined.
How does it feel to be the one wounded this time?
“…”
Her previous composure had slipped. Sweat beaded on her brow as she worked through her options. Finally, she spoke, low and tense.
“I’ll make this right. Please… reconsider.”
“…”
I turned my back on her. I owed her nothing. From here on, I’d do as I pleased.
Trash belongs in the trash bin.
I glared at her one last time.
“Abby. Mistakes made while young are forgivable. They help you grow. But for old fools, or those with brief lives, they’re deadly. You know why?”
Because they don’t have the time to make up for them.
◇◆
That night, Zoë and I shivered together in the cold.
I’d made my stand, but the drafty shack offered little shelter. Only now did I understand why the children huddled together for warmth.
Zoë tried to burn the scant firewood we had, even considered tearing her own clothes for fuel. I stopped her.
“This won’t do. Zoë, we’ll leave in the morning and take shelter with Alex’s clan.”
That muscle-head might laugh, but pride wouldn’t keep us warm.
Clutching Zoë under a thin blanket, teeth chattering, I endured the bitter night.
And just as dawn’s light seeped through the cracks—disaster arrived.
We had gathered our few belongings, ready to leave, when Sui, the lizard-girl, came for me.
“Something wrong?”
I felt no affection for her. Good or bad.
“…Here.”
She glanced at Zoë with barely disguised resentment, then thrust a small bag toward me.
“What is this?”
“Abby… for you.”
She mumbled, eyes lowered beneath her lashes, holding the bag outstretched.
I hadn’t planned on saying goodbye. Abby must have anticipated that.
“If it’s a parting gift, I don’t want it.”
I clicked my tongue, but reached out anyway. My fingers brushed something slick.
I froze.
I pulled it out. A long, thin object, horribly familiar.
Eva’s tail.
Severed at the root, the wound was half-clotted with dried blood. They had waited long enough to ensure my healing magic couldn’t restore it.
Inside the bag lay another grotesque relic. I recognized it immediately.
Ashita’s horn.
Still clinging to bits of skin, the cut had already aged.
I stared at Abby’s “atonement” speechless.
I had underestimated her. I hadn’t imagined she—or her children—would go this far.
Zoë peeked into the bag and shrieked.
“Eek!!”
But she seemed less shocked than I was. Perhaps she had grown used to brutality. After a moment, she sighed.
“Even if you give us these, we can’t burn them for firewood.”
Exactly. It's worthless.
Then Sui dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ground.
“Please forgive us. I beg you.”
Abby couldn’t apologize openly before the others.
So she had sent Sui in her stead.
A full surrender. A complete apology.
This was Abby’s greatest concession. If I rejected it, bloodshed would be the only path left.
I sighed and wiped my hand across my face.
“…Tell Abby this. I accept her apology. We’ll let this matter drop.”
“Thank you.”
A little girl bowed in the dirt, apologizing on Abby’s behalf.
The sight was sickening.
A terrible, wretched sight.
I wanted to scream.
But all things follow cause and effect.
Somehow, it seemed I still had a role to play here.
Was it the queen bee’s obsession?
Or is it something else?
Editor's Note: I feel so sad for Ashita and Eva T-T Am I too soft?