Ch.173173. The Play (3)

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Elphante is a complex structure with all kinds of buildings interwoven like a spider web, reflecting its long history.

Even someone with such extreme characteristics as Yuria could find a building where she could live quietly, keeping a low profile.

That means it’s not particularly difficult to carry out a deed without being seen by anyone in a place with no people around.

“…It’s a bit difficult to tie the knot…”

Darwood Campbell muttered with completely unfocused eyes.

The sight of him making a noose with sturdy rope he had obtained from somewhere looked pitiful, bordering on madness.

[…]

[…]

Not far away, two spirits remained silent inside a Soul Linker that had been neatly abandoned along with a “suicide note.”

[…Is it alright not to stop him?]

Valkarsus, who had awakened at some point, said this to Calivan, but Calivan only responded with a deep sigh.

[No, even if we tried to stop him, how could we when he has no intention of listening?]

[…But we can’t just let him kill himself?!]

Valkarsus shouted in alarm at Calivan’s calm response.

Seriously, how can he be so composed when he himself is on the verge of suicide?

At this very moment as this sentence continues, Darwood has already almost finished preparing to hang himself. He’s checking the noose with melancholic eyes.

[Well, there’s no reason not to be calm.]

Despite Valkarsus’s urgency, Calivan’s voice returned completely unperturbed.

[What’s attached to that guy are demon’S’, plural, Valkarsus.]

He continued with a bitter smile.

[That means there’s definitely at least one who won’t let him die even if he wants to.]

There was no need for Valkarsus to ask what he meant.

-!

Just as Darwood was whistling and about to put the noose around his neck, the part of the noose fixed to the roof exploded and flew away.

As a result, Darwood, with nothing to support his weight, collapsed to the floor.

With a crash, as he tumbled ungracefully on the floor, someone landed lightly from the air.

“…Really…”

Faynol Leiphec, who had been levitating with magical power, withdrew the flames that had been enveloping her body and sighed deeply.

“I’ve been so busy preparing for the second trial that we haven’t met in a while, and this is what you’re doing when I finally see you. What are you doing?”

“…”

Darwood blankly stared at Faynol’s figure illuminated by moonlight.

With her dress fluttering against the open night sky, the sight was almost dreamlike.

But the most significant element contributing to that impression was something else.

Darwood’s blank gaze followed what was protruding from the top of her head.

‘…Horns?’

From his position of having lost his memories but retained his knowledge, he was certain that nowhere on the entire continent would there be a human with such things protruding from their head.

While he merely felt puzzled by this unknown appearance,

The two spirits in the Soul Linker had somewhat different impressions of that appearance.

Horns are, without needing further explanation, clearly a symbol of a “demon” to anyone who sees them.

The power that just blew away the roof of the building was definitely related to that as well.

That was undoubtedly the Flame of Karma, the power of the Red Demon.

The firepower itself isn’t a big deal. No matter how sturdy Elphante’s buildings are, a demon’s power can even partially damage a Lightbearer’s barrier.

But what’s absurd is…

[…Did she just precisely ‘carve out’ the upper part of the building with a demon’s power?]

Valkarsus uttered those words like a groan.

No vessel in the world can ‘take out’ and use a demon’s power at will like this.

Usually, when a vessel possessed by a fragment goes berserk, the power manifests as the power takes effect.

Moreover, being able to use the power this precisely suggests a great many things.

[…]

Calivan closed his mouth and quietly observed the scene.

Of course, seeing the power of a demon he had personally subjugated in his lifetime right before his eyes wasn’t a pleasant experience.

But an even more terrible foreboding was running down his spine.

‘…Previously, she mentioned that as she regained her emotions, her control over the demon’s power grew stronger.’

And, without a doubt,

The Red Demon’s power he was witnessing now showed incomparable precision compared to the Crimson Night incident.

Compared to before when it blindly spread around, it could now move with clear purpose and calculation.

So, if…

Just hypothetically.

From the perspective of someone who has fought against her, one can’t help but make an uncomfortable assumption.

If someone like this, for whatever reason,

Became an ‘enemy.’

If she tried to burn the world with this level of precision using the power of three demon fragments combined…

[…]

A disaster far greater than the Crimson Night incident, which reduced several cities to ashes in half a day, could occur without being strange at all.

While he was thinking this, Faynol sighed and narrowed her eyes, placing both hands on her waist.

It was a gesture that exuded an air of exasperation.

“Some people want to die but can’t, and what are you doing? Did you want to deceive me?”

“…What?”

Darwood let out a confused voice.

No, this person is a complete stranger to him, someone he hadn’t even seen in the hospital room when he collapsed.

So why is she acting like she knows him?

As he was thinking this and glaring upward, Faynol gently landed on the floor.

Then she strode over and grabbed Darwood, who was sprawled on the floor, by the collar and lifted him up.

It was a strength unimaginable from such a delicate body, but it would be ridiculous to judge a Demonic Vessel by such standards.

“…Excuse me, who are you…?”

And then,

Faynol kissed Darwood as he was speaking.

“…? …?! —-?!”

Darwood, startled, struggled hard, but Faynol’s hand holding him remained immovable.

She kissed him deeply. Until they ran out of breath. As Darwood struggled…

“…What, what, what is this…?”

As soon as their lips parted, Darwood stammered in utter confusion.

Though he couldn’t be certain due to his lost memories, he felt a sense of déjà vu, as if something like this had happened before.

“…It’s a supplement.”

“…What?”

“I haven’t felt my heart flutter lately because I’ve been separated from you.”

In contrast, Faynol continued speaking in a flat tone.

Feeling emotions is a matter of great importance to Faynol. It must feel like an oasis to a wanderer in the desert.

Especially since matters related to this man give her a strong “resonance.”

So kissing him as soon as they meet isn’t such a special thing.

At least, from her perspective.

“…”

“You said you would make me happy, so you should take responsibility for this much. I was in a hurry too.”

“…You too…?”

This is really dizzying.

Darwood’s eyes lost focus again.

He staggered to his feet and picked up the noose that had been thrown to the floor.

“…What are you planning to do with that?”

When Faynol asked with a slight smile, Darwood muttered with a half-crazed expression.

“…Maybe it would be better for someone like me to die…”

“Ah.”

Hearing those words, Faynol smiled again.

“Who are you to decide such things?”

“…”

With those words, the noose Darwood was holding burst into flames that appeared in mid-air.

As if to say such a thing would never be tolerated.

“You shouldn’t misunderstand, Darwood Campbell.”

Faynol continued, still smiling.

“Your life is not entirely your own.”

“…What?”

Some focus returned to Darwood’s eyes.

The main reason was that he found it too absurd.

“Coming into someone else’s life on your own. Taking someone’s heart on your own, and then talking about dying or whatever as you please.”

However, those eyes weren’t smiling at all.

Rather, they were shining with a viscous, sinister color.

“Isn’t that too… selfish?”

“…”

“You have a duty to survive until the end, make me happy, and become happy yourself, understand?”

“…”

“If you die, I’ll chase you to the depths of hell to hold you accountable, so stop such useless acts. Understood?”

Faynol lightly kissed Darwood again.

Compared to the sticky kiss from earlier, it was just a brush of the surface.

But it was a terrifying contact that somehow gave him chills.

“…That’s enough, Faynol.”

As Darwood was sweating profusely, such a voice cut in from the side.

“I acknowledge your merit in finding this man so quickly, but how can you stimulate his already unstable mind, which has an artificial soul in it, in such a way?”

“…I apologize.”

As Faynol acknowledged and put Darwood down, Sullivan, who had opened the door and entered, sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

“You shouldn’t cause trouble, Baron Campbell. You need to be aware that you are a patient.”

It was a warm voice.

But from Darwood’s perspective, having been tormented by countless women so far, it felt like an ominous kindness that even inspired fear.

‘…No, surely not.’

Is this woman also ‘involved’ with him?

“…Excuse me, Prime Minister, if I may ask.”

Darwood asked in a trembling voice.

“May I ask what kind of relationship we have…?”

“…”

Sullivan slightly frowned at the sudden question.

Her response seemed to suggest, what a strange thing to ask, but…

“We were nothing.”

“…!”

Darwood’s expression brightened momentarily.

Yes, that’s right.

No matter how crazy he might have been before losing his memories, at least one person should have a normal relationship with-

“That’s what you thought.”

“…”

“I have some special feelings for you.”

With those words, the Prime Minister gently smiled and stroked Darwood’s face with a caring hand.

From Darwood’s perspective, it felt almost like the touch of a grim reaper.

“Anyway, let’s stop causing a commotion and go back.”

“…Go back…?”

“There are quite a few people worried about you.”

“Please just kill me… kill me, Prime Minister…”

Darwood, muttering with unfocused eyes.

“…?”

Suddenly closed his mouth tight.

Probably because he noticed something strange.

“…Prime Minister?”

Sullivan’s complexion, which had been so strict that it seemed not a drop of blood would come out if pricked just moments ago.

Upon hearing those words, it had turned visibly pale.

“…Ugh.”

Then, Sullivan quickly covered her mouth as if trying to suppress nausea.

Cold sweat seeped from her forehead.

She breathed roughly. The emotion mixed on her face looked like that of someone gripped by terror.

As if.

A ‘trauma’ had been triggered.

“…”

“…”

Both Darwood and even Faynol looked at her with bewildered expressions.

‘That’ Prime Minister.

The woman who could, if she wished, place even the Emperor of the Empire under her feet.

The woman even called the Iron-Blooded Prime Minister.

At that one sentence from Darwood just now, she was backing away like a frightened child.

“…Prime Minister?”

“Escort the patient, Faynol.”

In a tone noticeably rougher than before, Sullivan uttered such a sentence.

“…I have, a sudden, urgent matter, so I’ll, be going.”

After barely managing to say such a sentence, Sullivan quickly turned her back.

Then, almost running, she dashed out into the corridor.

“…”

“…”

Silence flowed for several minutes.

“…Did I say something wrong?”

“I wonder…?”

In the place where Sullivan had hastily departed, only Darwood and Faynol remained, both with equally confused expressions.

●

“…Prime Minister?”

Dizziness.

That was the only sensation Sullivan, who had arrived at her personal room inside Elphante, was feeling.

“…Prime Minister, are you alright?”

Unable to answer the attendant who kept asking such questions at the door, Sullivan, with a pale face, rushed into the room.

And, immediately.

“…Ugh…!”

As soon as she reached the bathroom, she vomited everything inside her.

In her mind, memories of being with someone from ‘the past’ were replaying.

From a truly distant past.

Memories that could never exist in ‘this world’.

-I’m always grateful, Sullivan.

Someone’s voice.

-I know you’re busy with Prime Minister duties, but take it easy sometimes. Rely on me a bit too.

Someone’s warmth.

-…Despite all this talk about your ‘Demonic Vessel’ or whatever, at least I will never abandon you.

Someone’s smile.

Memories that never faded even as the world ‘regressed’.

They pound her head. They consume her consciousness.

Then.

The words she had just heard resound again.

-…Please just kill me… kill me, Prime Minister…

She knows it wasn’t said sincerely.

The situation is completely different, and Sullivan herself knows best that he didn’t say it to her with any real intent.

But.

“…”

It’s truly a nightmarish experience.

Precious memories.

Being overlaid with the most horrific scenes.

By a single sentence uttered by the ‘same subject’ just now.

-Please.

It was a rainy day.

She remembers the terribly shattered imperial palace.

She also remembers the figure of a certain man taking faint breaths in her arms.

-I’m begging you.

-I’m sorry but. I’m too… too much in pain…

-…Would you please kill me?

The smell of blood on her hands. The smell of entrails on her feet.

The image of Darwood Campbell, who asked her such a thing with a barely managed smile.

As soon as such memories, covered in dust from the edge of consciousness, replayed.

“…U-… Ugh…-!”

With tears mixing on her face, Sullivan vomited more violently.

This continued for a while, and even when there was nothing left to throw up, the retching persisted.

“…”

How long did this go on?

Completely exhausted, Sullivan collapsed in that place.

“…No. This time…”

A voice mixed with sobbing flowed out like a thread.

“In this world… no… it won’t be…”

Endlessly.

“I can protect him…”

The golden Prime Minister murmured such words as if sobbing.

“I won’t let him die…”

She will definitely do so.

Even if it costs her everything.

No demon, that damned Luminary, the Emperor, the Pope, none of them.

No one can take Darwood Campbell away from her.

‘…At least, not this time.’

As Sullivan, gasping for breath, repeated such a pledge, golden demonic energy glowed softly in her chest.

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