“I have an old friend to kill.”
The wind picked up again, colder now. In the distance, a hawk-shaped shadow passed over the clouds—too large, too wrong, too familiar .
“Check,” whispered the Falcon of Light.
For a long moment, the only sound was the creak of his leather glove tightening around the sword’s hilt. Then he lowered the blade. Not because he couldn’t swing—he’d cut through worse than puppets. But because their eyes reminded him of someone else’s. Judeau’s. Casca’s. His own , once, before he learned that some monsters wear human faces and some humans wear monster’s armor. berserk.manga
From the shadows behind the altar, children emerged. Dozens of them. Their eyes were hollow, their mouths sewn shut with black thread, and each one held a rusted knife. They moved in a shuffling wave toward Guts, silent as snowfall.
“Puck,” he said.
She didn’t stand. Instead, she clapped twice. “I have an old friend to kill
Guts stopped.
The iron bell fell like judgment, crushing the countess mid-transformation in a spray of ichor and broken chitin. The children stopped. One by one, threads dissolved from their mouths. They blinked, confused, and began to cry.
He walked into the darkening woods, the brand on his neck throbbing a dull, rhythmic ache. Behind him, the children’s sobs faded. Ahead, the trees grew twisted, their bark weeping sap like amber tears. For a long moment, the only sound was
Puck zoomed ahead, became a faint glow against the gray. He returned quickly, face uncharacteristically grim. “Standing, but… you should see it.”
They found the church first.
Or what was left of it. The steeple had been punched inward, as though by a giant’s fist. Inside, the pews were stacked into a crude throne, and on that throne sat a woman whose beauty was a blade—pale hair, lips the color of a fresh scar, and eyes that held the same hungry patience as a spider at the center of its web.
“Puck,” he said. “Get them to the next town.”
The name tasted like ash and purpose.