Author: Himezaki Shiu	Original Source: Syosetu
Translator: Jiro	English Source: Re:Library

Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

What is this? What in the world is this? The village is burning. We are the ones burning it. People are running everywhere: children, adults, men, and even women. They’re all screaming, trying to flee.

But the moment they leave the village, archers shoot them down, or they are consumed by flames born from magic. The smell of blood is intoxicating me. The stench of burning flesh fills my lungs.

If they stay in the village, they’ll be cut by swords, severed by axes, and pierced by spears.

Another villager had a sword pierced through his chest. My sword. I’d stabbed him. This wasn’t the first time I was experiencing this sensation. It wasn’t the first, yet I never felt this bad.

Why? Why did this happen? Wasn’t I a hero? Wasn’t I supposed to protect the people? Why am I killing helpless people? I don’t want to kill them. I want to let at least one child get away. Yet, when I approach a child, my sword kills them.

How could the princess let something like this happen? Wasn’t she supposed to be kind to her own?

◇◇◇

I apologized sincerely after losing to Toriyama, but he refused to forgive me. From that day, my, Takatoshi Ichinari’s life changed once again. Even though I was already exhausted and barely capable of doing anything, any free time I might have had vanished. Instead, I was constantly subjected to harsh treatment in the name of training whenever I wasn’t eating or sleeping. Thanks to my increased status, I suffered only minor physical injuries, but I could still feel pain. What hurt even more, though, was the mental strain.

While we could rest, our hours were strictly controlled. The only time anyone could do as they pleased was when they were so worn out that they passed out—and even then, they were immediately woken up again. I could no longer taste the flavor of food. No matter what it was, everything felt like eating clay. When I finally got to bed, I slept like I was dying, only to be woken up before sunrise the next morning.

There was no praise, no acknowledgment of effort—only harsh words and abuse. One day, during this hellish existence, I was summoned by Princess Topersion.

All my classmates in the castle were gathered, and we were ordered to stay silent.
It felt like ages since I had seen my classmates like this. Everyone looked tired and worn down. I tried to make eye contact with those whose gazes met mine, hoping to communicate somehow, even without speaking.

But every time our eyes met, they looked away. In the end, nothing came of it. Then the mission briefing began.

When I heard the plan, I couldn’t believe my ears. The princess, who treated us like slaves and weapons, was ordering us to destroy villages and towns in her kingdom. Although they’d kidnapped us, I’d foolishly believed that she was at least sincere when caring for her people.

I wanted to protest, but I couldn’t say anything. The ring on my left ring finger ensured my silence.

◇◇◇

I moved undercover to the location where the mission was to take place.

During this time, I was allowed to speak to my classmates for the first time in what felt like forever. Although we were technically allowed to talk during training, we were restricted to saying only the bare minimum. Speaking out of line resulted in punishment. Even during our brief free time, I barely had the energy to hold a conversation. It had been a long time since we could interact as a cohesive group.

And yet, no one seemed to want to come near me. They spoke to one another in whispers, keeping their distance as if ignoring me completely. Whenever I tried to initiate a conversation, it would end almost immediately after a light greeting.

Over the few days of travel, I ended up journeying alone and arrived at my destination without having been able to speak properly to anyone.

◇◇◇

As the sun began to set, Hirayama used her skill on all of us, altering our appearance to have dark skin and red eyes. Once she’d cast her skill on us all, the knight who followed us from the castle, the commander, gave us our instructions.

“Those skilled in melee combat are to enter Toruk and kill the residents without hesitation. Those who can use magic are tasked with burning the houses and smoking out anyone hiding inside. Those proficient at long-range are to stay outside the village and surround it, making sure to kill anyone who tries to flee. As Her Highness Topersion commanded, no one is to escape alive. The close-range group will be led by Takatoshi, who already has experience in killing. Begin!”

At his words, we began to move. Even though I was the one moving my body, I couldn’t think or act beyond the commands I was given. The first thing I saw upon entering the village, which was surrounded by a simple wooden fence, was a boy.

He was crying and banging on a door. He wore tattered clothes and shouted, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

At first, I thought he might have been neglected. But then, as he added, “I won’t leave the village again,” I wondered if it wasn’t some form of punishment.

Even back on Earth, I’d heard of harsh discipline methods that involved having the children not eat or sleep outside.

I went straight for the boy. The boy, who had been crying moments before, froze when he noticed me. His expression changed, and he started to say something, “De…”

But I didn’t hear the rest. That was because my sword had already severed his head. Blood spurted from the boy’s neck as his body collapsed to the ground.

His head, separated from his body, rolled a short distance away.

(W-W-Why? Why did I…)

I’d been ordered to kill, but I hadn’t wanted to kill the child just now. My body had moved on its own. Of course, it had. We were slaves. We’d kill when given the command.

A chill ran through me. I felt sick to my stomach and vomited, but I couldn’t let myself collapse. Perhaps because of the sudden silence, a woman—who must have been the boy’s mother—came out of the house.

She saw the boy lying lifeless on the ground, covered her mouth in horror, and turned her gaze to me. Her face twisted as though she were about to scream, but before any sound escaped, I cut off her head too.

Then I burned the house with magic. The dimly lit village was now aglow with flames. The destruction was visible.

All around, my classmates were killing indiscriminately, their eyes bloodshot and lifeless. Fires erupted in many homes, casting grotesque shadows on the scene.

If someone had asked me where we were, I would have answered, Hell, without hesitation. But this hell—we were the ones who created it. The burning stench, the river of blood, the corpses, the desperate pleas for help, and the screams—we were the cause behind all of it.

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