Volu 3 Chapter 7 – The Only Thing I Can Do
“No, no... don’t co near ...” Yimi crouched on the ground, clutching her head, muttering the sa phrase over and over like she had been triggered by sothing.
“Ugh...” As she stared at the bloodstained operating table in her mind’s eye, Yimi’s eyes reddened with bloodshot veins, her sockets ready to burst.
“It’s okay now.” Dylin gently soothed her, stroking her hair, repeating the words over and over.
As he moved closer, he felt how violently Yimi’s body trembled—like a hamster trapped in a cage, paralyzed under a cat’s gaze, unable to do anything but shiver.
Perhaps because of their shared kind, Dylin carried a familiar scent—one that brought Yimi a sense of safety, almost like that of a mother. It softened her hatred, dissolved her ferocity, and made her burrow into his arms like a kitten seeking protection.
Had sothing about the scene triggered painful mories from her past?
Dylin looked down at the girl in his arms.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t that simple. If these were truly her original mories, she shouldn’t have reacted with such acute trauma.
“What are you looking at? Interfering with law enforcent? I’ll send you off to Beamonris too!” The enforcer captain snapped at the onlookers who were watching. The glare in his eyes made people quickly avert their gaze and go their separate ways.
They were just ordinary folks—compassionate, perhaps—but they had families to think about. No one wanted to court trouble for the sake of sympathy.
No one wanted to get deported to the wastelands.
“Sir, may I ask—what cri has this lady committed that warrants such severity?”
“Hmm?” Hearing soone actually dared interrupt him mid-enforcent, the enforcer captain slowly turned his gaze to the youth who had spoken, scanning him up and down.
“Don’t think I’ve seen you before. Where’re you from? What part of the Empire?”
“Sir, a mother and child trying to survive—do you really need to go this far?” Dylin glanced at the nearly unconscious woman and the boy, who’d been kicked aside and lay still, then shook his head.
“If you were this child’s father, and saw your wife and son treated like this, what would you do?”
“Ha?! Don’t lump in with so unclean tramp. She was never married—got pregnant out of wedlock. No one knows who fathered that bastard. Doesn’t even have a father,” the captain sneered.
“Then what cri has she committed?”
“Cri? Getting pregnant without marriage is forbidden in the doctrine. I already turned a blind eye before. But now she dares to injure one of my n? A civilian laying hands on a soldier? That’s a death wish!”
“No one can save her. My arrest is fully within protocol. What—you think I’m abusing my authority? Ganging up on her?”
“N-No... I...” The woman’s lips trembled. She tried to speak, sobbing out in a broken voice.
“H-His subordinate... tried to force himself on ... I had no choice...”
“Utter nonsense! Everyone in the city knows you’re a filthy harlot with a bastard child, and you dare slander my n?”
“I—I didn’t...” Hearing soone speak up for her, the woman mustered her final strength, as though she’d waited years to tell her side.
“I... was assaulted by a thug back then... I reported it to the enforcers, but they ignored ...”
“I was left with no choice but to keep the child. Then you all called immoral, unclean...”
“Now—because I resisted being assaulted again—you label a criminal and want to exile ...”
She poured out all the grievances she’d bottled up over the years.
“Can’t you—can’t you just give us a chance to live?!”
“Insolence!” The captain raised his hand to slap her—but his wrist was caught before it could fall.
“Sir, if you truly have justice on your side, why won’t you even listen to a citizen’s plea?” Dylin said calmly as he gripped the captain’s wrist. “If you’ve done nothing wrong, why act so anxious?”
“Boy, I advise you to mind your own business!” the captain’s fury surged. “You’re already guilty of obstructing law enforcent. Even if you’re not local, I can still arrest you!”
“Actually, sir, I’m not just not local—I’m not even an Imperial citizen. According to Empire law, you don’t have the authority to arrest .” Dylin remained calm. “If you want to, you’ll have to go through Coleman City and get approval from Coleman Academy.”
“You’re from Coleman Academy?” The captain’s eyes narrowed.
Unlike those uneducated militian who feared nothing, this man was part of the city’s official forces. He knew what Coleman Academy represented. That academy was notoriously protective of its students—and mishandling this could escalate into a diplomatic crisis.
The Empire would never risk alienating Coleman City and its academy for the sake of one lowly captain.
Anyone who stoked internal strife now would be labeled a criminal. The Lightborn needed peace—even if only a shallow, fragile one.
“What’s a Coleman student doing here?”
“Well, let’s say I’m sightseeing. Will you believe that, sir?”
“Hmph. Whatever. You’re right—I don’t have the power to arrest you. But you also have no right to interfere with Imperial soldiers performing their duties.”
“Don’t cross the Empire’s red lines. Even as a Coleman student, you’ll suffer for it. I suggest you don’t make trouble.”
“Sir, may I ask—when did I cross any lines?”
“I’m warning you, boy—you’re now suspected of conspiring with a heretic!”
“A heretic? Where?”
“That woman.”
“She’s a heretic? Sir, in what way does this lady resemble a heretic? If you don’t need your eyes, perhaps donate them to soone who does?”
“You brat! ...Hmph, according to Carreto’s Doctrine, pregnancy before marriage is an unforgivable sin. She broke the doctrine—how is she not a heretic?”
“Then, sir, let ask you: abusing your power, flattering your superiors while oppressing the weak, framing the innocent, slaughtering the blaless—do these count as heresy?”
“Of course they do.”
“Then you should arrest yourself first.” Dylin pouted. “I can’t prove what she says is true, or what you say is false—but you’re arresting people without a shred of evidence. Do Empire enforcers always demand victims prove their own innocence?”
“Trying to ddle again?” The captain now fully glared down at Dylin, looming over him.
“This isn’t ddling, sir,” Dylin replied, eyes calm but with a smile that didn’t reach them. “Where I’m from, bullying won and children is a criminal offense—and scorned by all.”
“I don’t care where you’re from. You’re in the Empire now, and here you follow Empire law!”
“So in the Empire, abuse is a legal privilege?”
“Oh, I get it now. You’re in league with heretics, aren’t you?” the captain feigned realization. “No wonder you’re interfering—you’re trying to shield her!”
“Go ahead and make up whatever you want. You need so excuse before your cowardice lets you lay a hand on , right?” Dylin didn’t want trouble—but this wasn’t sothing he could walk away from.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Arrest this heretic sympathizer!”
At the command, the surrounding brutes raised their weapons.
But before they could reach Dylin, they were suddenly overco by dizziness—then collapsed in unison, sprawled neatly on the ground.
“Ow.” Dylin shrugged and called out to the onlookers. “You all saw that, right? They attacked first—I didn’t do anything. You can’t bla for interfering.”
“Sir, your soldiers are quite fragile. Where’d you dig them up? Bullies used to oppressing peasants? Completely useless outside?”
“You—! You lot! What the hell are you doing? Heatstroke?! Get up!” the captain roared at his n, now strewn across the street.
The soldiers groaned, holding their heads as they wobbled back up. Panic filled their eyes—they hadn’t even processed what happened. It felt like a thousand needles stabbed their skulls at once.
“You brat—this your doing?!”
“Oh, co now, sir. Accusations need evidence.” Dylin put on his most innocent face. “I didn’t move a muscle, yet you’re blaming ? Hah—do you practice that scapegoating routine regularly?”
“You said I’m a heretic, wanted to arrest —but I didn’t say a word, didn’t lift a finger. Surely you’re not claiming I resisted arrest?”
“Everyone saw—your n collapsed on their own.”
“...Seize that blaspheming heretic!”
“Yes, sir!” The soldiers raised their weapons again—but this ti, they weren’t aiming at Dylin. They turned their blades on their captain.
“What—what are you doing?! Treason?!” the captain shrieked as they advanced. He dodged the first blow just in ti, though it tore open his silk robe.
“What is wrong with you?! Stop this! Want to lose your posts?!” He tried to flee, but his n—now wielding justice in the form of steel—chased him down the street. Soon, he and his lackeys vanished.
“You all saw that,” Dylin said to the crowd. “Heaven has eyes—even his own n couldn’t stomach that scum. They did what had to be done. Had nothing to do with .”
The bystanders watched as the soldiers turned on their once-despotic superior. While keeping their distance, they quietly rejoiced.
Who cared if it was infighting? Those guys had always been tyrants. With luck, soone might even die.
Dylin helped the weakened woman up.
“My child... How is he?” she asked.
“He’s weak, but he’ll be fine. Here—drink this recovery potion. There won’t be any lasting harm.” Dylin handed over the boy, then passed her a vial.
“Sorry. I’ve made things harder for you,” he said.
He knew that helping her wouldn’t change the system. In fact, it might bring her even worse harassnt from the enforcers.
“No... you shouldn’t be the one apologizing. If not for you, I’d be exiled to Beamonris—and never see my son again.”
“This city isn’t safe anymore. What will you do?”
“I... I don’t know.” The woman shook her head, lost. Right now, all she could think about was her child’s future—and her own.
Her confusion carried disappointnt with life, with people—and a deeply buried hatred.
Though hidden, Dylin sensed it clearly.
He’d felt sothing was off in this city from the mont they arrived. The stench ca not from the streets, but from its people.
They lived scraping by, asuring every move, fearing the day they’d be labeled heretics and exiled—worked to death, discarded like trash in an unmarked grave.
Even animals rebel when oppressed. Why not people?
Even if the ntal chains were deep-rooted, they still knew resentnt. They just didn’t dare express it.
But resentnt only grew. When it reached the breaking point—what then?
Humans were like that. As long as they had breath and a crust of bread, they wouldn’t rise.
In this world, just eating, staying warm, and living without conflict was both a simple and extravagant wish.
Dylin looked up. The sky was covered in gloom—shrouding the Empire’s people beneath it.
In the end, he gave the woman so coins and alchemical potions, telling her to take her child and flee—far away, or to find relatives.
That was the only thing he could do for those unfortunate souls in this world.
“Thanks for earlier,” he said, returning to Yimi’s side and patting her head again—only for her to dodge.
“I wasn’t helping you. I just couldn’t stand those humans either,” Yimi said, averting her gaze.
From her tone, she seed to have cald down.
“Just now... did you rember sothing?”
“...I don’t know.” Yimi didn’t want to answer, but the images she’d seen kept resurfacing.
Now that she thought about it, so rational part of her said those mories weren’t real.
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