Ch.236Three Clans (3)

“Of all places to hit, why the face…”

[Mourning]

[Remaining Duration: 2 seconds]

Llewellyn unconsciously touched his face as he saw the message appearing in the corner of his vision.

He hadn’t expected a punch to come flying just for teasing her a little, and the fist that shot out packed no negligible power.

Especially since she hit him with her prosthetic arm. Being left-handed, she probably unconsciously struck with her right hand thinking it would be non-lethal.

‘If it weren’t me, that would’ve been fatal.’

Thankfully, he had reflexively applied sacred blood—which he could now use almost automatically—to his face and endured it with his high health stat.

Otherwise, even for someone like Llewellyn, it could have been an attack that caved in his face.

‘No, I think it actually did cave in.’

Llewellyn grabbed his nose bridge, snapped it back into place with a cracking sound, and expelled the blood that had filled his nose with a snort.

“Even I could die if my head gets completely smashed.”

While a homunculus’s death basically requires decapitation…

There were some gray areas to that boundary. For example, crushing the head rather than severing the neck was a prime example.

In such cases, a homunculus would die too.

But getting impaled through the head with a spear was somehow fine. Unless they were a Mourner, they would lose consciousness, but they wouldn’t die. If treated in time, they would survive.

But what if the head was shot with a siege weapon like a ballista?

Death. The head might not cleanly come off, but only fragments of what was once a head would remain, and death would follow.

Even partial destruction of the head could be fatal if it was severe enough to detach the neck, while conversely, even with extreme head damage, if some part of what was once the head remained, survival was possible.

The death of a homunculus was that ambiguous.

Llewellyn had experienced it himself.

Llewellyn’s first death. When he, a fruit born from this Netel’s branch, tried to escape by jumping from the sky fortress.

He had died. Shattered into pieces, then resurrected with the help of a being who might have been his father or Netel.

Later, he died when Lorian severed his head, and returned to the world with the message that there would be no next chance.

Thanks to the knowledge of handling mortality and divinity that he gained then, Llewellyn was able to properly begin climbing the stairway of divinity.

While grateful, he still felt somewhat resentful. Having one’s head cut off wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience.

“Are you planning to kill me again?”

The words came out half-jokingly. The other half was irritation. He expected Lorian to grumble or retort that he shouldn’t have explicitly mentioned her period, but…

Lorian looked flustered, worried, and dejected.

“I-I didn’t mean to. I was just… a little… annoyed…”

“Uh…”

Lorian fidgeted with her hands and hung her head low. Even though he’d meant it as a joke, her reaction made it impossible to tease her further.

Llewellyn was at a loss for words, and Lorian glanced at him before stroking her prosthetic arm with her other hand.

Despite kneading it, she probably couldn’t feel anything. All that remained was the cold tactile sensation transmitted by her left hand.

The feeling of touching armor or metal rather than her own arm. Whenever Lorian experienced this sensation, she would feel a peculiar mood.

It was a scar etched by Llewellyn. Considering that any blood kin could mimic her appearance, this was a quality unique to Lorian, carved by Llewellyn.

Something no one else could replicate. The power of the stars wouldn’t be bestowed upon blood kin, and without a clean cut from the power of the stars, they would choose regeneration rather than attaching a new arm.

The same applied to becoming a woman’s body, though that could be similarly replicated.

‘…She’s seriously depressed.’

Llewellyn looked at Lorian and finally spoke.

“No, I… I meant it as a joke…”

It felt like when you say something wrong and your desk mate starts crying. Llewellyn stammered, trying to say something, but…

‘What should I say?’

If he focused on cheering Lorian up, the obvious thing to say would be:

‘It wasn’t really enough to kill me?’

But truthfully, if it hadn’t been Llewellyn, it would have been more than fatal. Lorian might have known that and still not controlled her strength, but judging by her current reaction, that didn’t seem to be the case.

‘Your punch was weak so it was fine?’

Lorian knew better than anyone that wasn’t true. She was an excellent blood knight who understood well the impact of her attacks.

‘Since we’re on the topic, is your period over?’

That was off-limits. Even Llewellyn knew that.

In the end, he concluded there was nothing to say. Llewellyn mumbled for a moment, then sighed and plopped down on the bed.

Naturally, Lorian, who had been standing, stared blankly, but Llewellyn didn’t feel like saying anything in particular.

The Lorian he knew had always been somewhat manly and easygoing, yet considerate, making her pleasant company.

But now, Lorian seemed to have a stronger “feminine” aspect.

It might be because of her period, or there could be other reasons. Llewellyn carefully chose his words.

“I understand you’re feeling unsettled after coming back. You couldn’t control yourself.”

Lorian’s red eyes turned toward Llewellyn. Without fully understanding the emotions within them, Llewellyn spoke.

“But you’re the only one I can trust. Earlier, I jokingly asked if you were going to kill me again…”

Llewellyn’s gray eyes met Lorian’s.

“I trust you. You won’t kill me. Even if something happened, you’d choose to die yourself rather than kill me.”

“…Llewellyn.”

When his name was called, Llewellyn smiled faintly. Once he started speaking, he felt inexplicably more at ease.

“So don’t be so depressed. When you’re like that, it’s…”

But he was only comfortable until the last part. Llewellyn trailed off and scratched his head in embarrassment.

“It makes me worry.”

Lorian bit her lip as she listened to her new master’s words.

It was an unbearable temptation. Her mind was already in turmoil and unsettled.

Why would he say such things?

‘It’s not that I dislike it.’

But it was perplexing. Lorian wondered what his intention was in saying such things, and quickly came to a conclusion.

‘He really does care about me.’

Coming to find her when she was moping alone on the terrace, and now awkwardly trying to make conversation while being considerate…

It was all because he was thinking of Lorian. Just realizing this fact made one corner of her heart feel warm.

She stopped caressing her arm and hesitantly gazed at Llewellyn.

“Do I… look like someone you need to worry about?”

Llewellyn’s eyes widened, and Lorian moistened her lips with her tongue before speaking.

“I am a knight. A knight who has sworn loyalty to you and can give my life for you. For such a knight to—”

“That may be true.”

Interrupting her with an unremarkable comment. Lorian glared at Llewellyn with fierce eyes, but he didn’t seem particularly concerned.

Rather…

“I consider you a friend before my knight, servant, or subordinate.”

He stated boldly.

And those words had the power to make Lorian freeze and stare blankly.

It was completely unexpected. Lorian opened and closed her mouth for a moment before slightly furrowing her brow, pretending to be displeased.

“That’s offensive. I’m not here because I wanted to be your friend…”

“Really?”

Such a vulnerable voice.

A voice that clearly showed how dejected he was.

Lorian glanced at Llewellyn with a guilty expression, and immediately shut her eyes tight.

His eyes were like those of an abandoned puppy.

The expression reminded her of when she pushed away Huey who was begging to play, saying she was in training. Lorian took a deep breath and barely parted her trembling lips.

“No, thinking about it, we are indeed friends—”

And closed them again.

For some reason, which she herself didn’t fully understand…

It felt like crossing a point of no return if she answered affirmatively.

It wasn’t so much a feeling that she shouldn’t say it, but rather that she didn’t want to.

It felt like Lorian didn’t want it to be that way.

‘Someone like Llewellyn would make a good friend.’

It wasn’t that she disliked the idea. Rather, if anything, Lorian quite liked the man called Llewellyn.

He was often magnanimous, and sometimes cute.

At times he could be quirky and mischievous, but fundamentally, he was someone who took good care of his people.

That causeless consideration and kindness was familiar to her eyes. It was a kind of softness unfamiliar to Lorian.

‘But why… do I dislike it?’

She liked Llewellyn. As a friend, he passed the mark. If anything, he felt like a close friend with whom they could lightly tease each other.

But Lorian didn’t want to be friends with Llewellyn.

It was a kind of emotion that even she couldn’t easily explain. Beneath the pitiful expression he had deliberately put on, Llewellyn showed concern on his face, and even that looked painful to Lorian.

Lorian’s hand rose to clutch at her chest. Her expression was one of distress. Despite being a being whose heart didn’t even beat, Lorian felt an unpleasant tightness in her chest.

So Lorian couldn’t answer.

She didn’t have the chance to answer anyway.

“Excuse me, Lord Llewellyn.”

A voice came from outside the door. Llewellyn turned his head slightly to look at the door.

“The Court Count has arrived. He said it’s an urgent matter and ordered us to bring you immediately.”

A different servant from the one who had left earlier. Llewellyn looked at Lorian, knowing the messenger wouldn’t wait.

“Are you okay? Your expression suddenly turned bad… Should I go alone? Do you want to rest?”

Concern and consideration raining down on her head. Lorian desperately composed herself and shook her head vigorously. Her hair flew about, and Llewellyn was startled by how frantically she shook her head.

“R-really? Alright then…”

Llewellyn picked up Lorian’s decapitation sword and handed it to her. Lorian received her beloved sword, reattached it to her waist, and took a deep breath.

‘I definitely wasn’t like this before I left.’

She wondered if it was because of coming to this place, this fortress, as she followed Llewellyn.

The door opened, and she saw the blood kin who had come to guide Llewellyn and Lorian to the Court Count.

She saw him smiling and fawning close to Llewellyn.

For no reason, she felt bad. Unlike the usual comfort and familiarity she felt toward blood kin, whom she considered her kin and those she should protect…

It felt like a sticky emotion settling in her heart. A feeling of anger and irritation, and beyond that, an unknown murky emotion filling every corner of her blood vessels.

Lorian didn’t know the name of this emotion. She was experiencing a feeling she had never felt in her life.

She had no way of knowing that this was the process of her emotions, her soul, and even the stagnant blood in her vessels changing to those of a woman. How could she, having never experienced being female before?

Such a Lorian simply walked behind Llewellyn, clutching the hem of her dress, and soon reached a vast hall.

There was the Court Count.

A face with indistinguishable gender, snow-white hair, a solemn figure with hands clasped behind the back, and a uniform that fit perfectly and fell cleanly.

A beautiful person with thin limbs, tall stature, and a somewhat sickly impression, contrasted by a distinctive short bob haircut.

The Court Count looked at Lorian, then stared at Llewellyn.

Just that was enough to make the sticky blood in Lorian’s heart seem to thrash about.

Lorian belatedly realized.

That her mind had completely lost its way.

Receiving Lorian’s jealousy-filled gaze, the Court Count spoke.

“The Empress sent you.”

With unmistakable certainty.