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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Envy.
The feeling of resentment towards another’s good fortune, a potent mixture of animosity and hatred. One of the seven deadly sins, one of the most repulsive human emotions.
The orange-haired boy, the embodiment of that sin, looked down at the elf pinned beneath him.
He would have killed anyone else. Or perhaps he would have simply left them to suffer.
But her words… they echoed in his mind.
“…Haha, you want me to… try?”
“Ugh… yes.”
“What more can I do? What more can I try? Have you ever even imagined the effort of those beneath you?”
He tightened his grip, the ground beneath her cracking, her face contorting in pain.
But her words, her resolve, remained unchanged.
“I… I’ve thought of nothing else.”
“…You, a prodigy, have thought about the struggles of ordinary people, of those without talent?”
“Of course.”
She slowly pushed herself up, not because his grip had loosened, but through sheer force of will.
“H-How…?”
“…Effort is not exclusive to you.”
She freed herself, her voice echoing through the clearing. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves behind her.
“Wherever there is a goal, there will be those with a natural talent for achieving it.”
“…Are you bragging?”
“No. I’m saying that a lack of talent isn’t an excuse for inaction.”
“…”
“They try. Again, and again.”
“…Every living being tries—”
She shook her head, pity in her eyes, as if he’d misunderstood.
The gentle breeze continued to blow.
“Of course, everyone tries. But most of them do it for the sake of an excuse.”
“…?”
“‘I’ve put in so much time, yet my results are so different from theirs. It’s not my fault, it’s just that our talents are different.’ That’s why they try.”
“…”
“And only a few of them, a very select few, try with true, unwavering dedication. And they achieve results. Their effort is fundamentally different.”
A flame flickered in her right hand, while ice crystals formed in her left.
“While others eat, they train. While others sleep, they train. While others socialize, fall in love, experience happiness, they train.”
“…And what if they hit a wall? What if all their time and effort is meaningless—”
“It’s not meaningless.”
She cut him off, her voice firm. Sparks crackled at her feet, and vines writhed on the ground around her.
And the wind, ever-present, swirled around her.
“Effort can be a painful process. Constant refinement, constant struggle. And it doesn’t always guarantee success. There will be failures, setbacks. But to walk a path with no clear end, to persevere, to never give up—that is effort. That is the life they’ve chosen. And those who haven’t walked that path have no right to judge them. No one has the right to invalidate their efforts. The result of their effort might be meaningless, but the process never is. Anyone who’s ever truly tried would know that…”
“…What’s your point?”
“I knew it. You’re just a fool who resents the talented without ever putting in any real effort yourself. Aren’t you, mediocrity?”
The conversation was over.
He lunged.
A guttural scream, inhuman, ripped from his throat, both his eyes now a solid, abyssal black.
“I… effort… ■■… and…?!”
“Can’t even mimic human speech properly now, can you, monster?”
She didn’t back down. She’d put in the effort, too. She hadn’t been complacent. She hadn’t rested on her laurels. While others had praised her talent, she’d trained, honing her skills, pushing her limits.
She wanted to be proud of herself.
“I’ll kill you! No, I won’t kill you… I’ll keep you alive and feed you to the trolls!”
“Pathetic thoughts, for a pathetic creature.”
He charged, leaving a trail of darkness in his wake, the grass and soil withering at his touch. Even the spirits recoiled from his foul aura.
But she didn’t retreat. She fanned the flames in her right hand, enlarged the ice crystals in her left. The sparks at her feet intensified, engulfing her in a crackling aura of electricity.
She accelerated.
The electric currents stimulated her nervous system, heightening her reflexes, her perception. The wind, swirling around her, increased her speed.
The flame in her hand remained steady, growing larger, fueled by the wind.
Roots erupted from the ground, converging on her, then launching themselves towards him like a volley of spears.
Darkness and rainbow collided.
A shockwave, and they were thrown apart.
Normally, Sylvia would have been defeated. The power difference was too great.
But her spirits wouldn’t allow it. They absorbed the impact, distributing it amongst themselves, allowing her to continue the fight.
But the gap in their power remained.
Still, she wouldn’t give up. Neither would her spirits.
“…What? How did you withstand that?”
“…”
“You should be unconscious! Or at least have a few broken bones!”
The attack hadn’t been completely ineffective. He was genuinely surprised that she was still standing.
A normal opponent would have assumed she was hiding her true strength. That was the only logical explanation.
And that would have worked in her favor, buying her more time.
But he was anything but normal. He was a twisted, broken boy.
“So… it’s because of that again, isn’t it?”
“…What are you—”
“Talent!!!”
A black liquid, thicker than tears, darker than blood, seeped from his eyes. It was repulsive, its scent nauseating.
He seemed oblivious, his screams growing louder, more desperate.
“Again… again! It’s always talent! Again!!!”
“…Are you insane?”
“It was always like this! What’s the point of trying? What’s the point of sacrificing everything?!”
“…”
“You… you people… you always do the impossible, so easily.”
Something sprouted from the ground behind him, from the dark patches where his feet had landed.
Buds, then stems, then flowers.
But they were a deep, unsettling black.
And in the center of each flower, a row of sharp, jagged teeth.
“Have you ever felt inferior? Have you ever had to look up to someone? Have you ever been at the bottom?”
“…What are you trying to do?”
“I’m jealous. Jealous of those who are above me. So jealous, so envious, it’s driving me insane.”
He snapped his fingers. His black, inky fingers.
-Snap.
And the black flowers behind him smiled, their mouths stretching into wide, unnatural grins.
Their stems elongated, their teeth bared, and they lunged, each in a different direction.
Towards the elves and the knights.
“So I’ll take it. If it’s not mine, I’ll steal it.”
“What…!”
He snapped his fingers again, and the flowers’ mouths opened wide.
And then they closed, leaving behind mangled corpses.
A field of envy, blooming from hatred.
-Green with Envy
“Ugh… aaaagh…!”
“H-His neck is gone…!”
“The vice-captain’s head… it’s gone…”
Despite the horrific screams, the boy’s face was filled with a pure, unadulterated joy.
“Now… I can have it, too.”
“…”
He smiled, a genuine, innocent smile, and the woman, who could no longer smile, whispered,
“…Die.”
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