Ch.269Chapter 269: Somewhere Between Unfamiliarity and Familiarity (1)

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I tried to turn my uncooperative brain over and over, endlessly trying to make it work.

I needed to figure out why Imperfectio was staring at me with that peculiar gaze, as if we hadn’t been fiercely clashing swords just moments ago.

But honestly, I’ve never been particularly clever, and trying to force my brain to work while frowning in such a short time wasn’t going to yield any answers.

“Haah…”

I let out a sigh, releasing the frustration of searching for answers that wouldn’t come.

It was stifling. As I said before, I’d much rather face this person with a sword, even if they had only wielded theirs half-heartedly against me. That thought completely filled my mind.

To describe the appearance of Imperfectio, who had simultaneously given me this frustration, confusion, and bewilderment:

“…”

First of all, they were silent.

After appearing here, they had thanked me for remembering their name when I called it just once, but now…

“…”

They were simply staring at me intently without saying a word.

Their golden hair was the only thing shining in this obsidian palace where not even a single ray of light entered.

Unlike when their helmet first broke, their blue eyes that stared through me hadn’t dimmed at all, showing no trace of dullness.

The two swords at their waist gave off an aura of perfect orderliness.

They seemed like they were about to say something as they looked at me, and yet…

“…”

Their lips remained firmly closed as they just kept staring.

It was incredibly awkward for me to speak first in this situation.

One might say I’m overthinking their silence, but…

The answer was written all over Imperfectio’s expression—someone with too much to say but unsure where to begin, their indecision barely concealed by their attempt at nonchalance.

…What should I do?

They don’t know what to say either, which is why they’re just standing there like that.

Should I just ignore this and continue thinking about how to escape this place?

Both my reason and instinct whispered that this was the correct answer, but…

My heart, which encompassed both of these aspects, strangely gravitated toward a different choice.

I found myself struggling to come up with something to say, feeling obligated to extract some information from this person.

But that struggle was momentarily interrupted.

Just now, something besides Imperfectio’s appearance caught my eye, causing my thoughts to freeze.

…Huh?

Wait.

…Two swords?

One was certainly Devastator, the weapon Imperfectio had used when we fought our life-or-death battle—a weapon I’d seen countless times in my previous life.

But what was the other one?

Originally, they didn’t carry any weapon besides the demon sword.

…Could it be?

“…Ah.”

As soon as my gaze shifted from Imperfectio to the two swords at their waist, their previously silent lips parted slightly.

“I… borrowed it for a bit.”

Words that made my mind reel came out.

Borrowed. Borrowed…

It was obvious they had taken it after knocking Shizu unconscious, without even asking the owner’s permission.

I was secretly grateful they had only subdued Shizu without causing further harm, but…

To casually steal what was essentially Shizu’s other half and then package it to me as “borrowing”…

I realized it would take that level of audacity to appear before me with the same face as the person I cared for.

The heat that had strangely risen in my head when facing someone showing familiarity toward me quickly cooled down.

“Hmm.”

I expelled the heat that had gathered in my head with a faint groan.

It was meant to tell them to maintain their silence since I had no intention of listening further, but…

They seemed to interpret the meaning behind my sigh and gaze in a strange way.

“It’s okay because this child gave me permission.”

Imperfectio slowly reached toward the hilt of the holy sword—a weapon that would cause tremendous harm to anyone of demonic lineage just by carrying it.

It happened in a brief moment, but everything about their words and actions caught my attention.

I couldn’t help but focus on how they referred to the holy sword as a “child.”

Child… as if the holy sword had its own consciousness, and they had somehow received permission to use it. That tone lingered in my ears even after some time had passed.

Perhaps it was because of the voice filled with innocence that rang so refreshingly in my ears.

Despite knowing full well that it made no sense, I found myself wanting to listen more.

Throughout my life of repeated failures, I had faced the gleaming blade of the holy sword in Shizu’s hands so many times that counting would be meaningless.

Yet in none of those memories had I ever seen Shizu treat the holy sword as a sentient being or share emotions with it.

My reason told me it was a lie—that this impostor claiming the holy sword had consciousness and had acknowledged them was false—and yet…

Despite my mind having coldly concluded that everything was a lie,

My eyes remained fixed on Imperfectio as they slowly reached for the sword.

Even though the sword remained sheathed, any action of presenting a weapon toward someone—and all behaviors preceding it—invariably implied hostility, yet…

Why?

Imperfectio’s movement as they reached for the holy sword to show me, appearing nonchalant yet…

“Look.”

Their tone—whether fabricated or naturally unguarded—sparkled only with pure innocence, seeking my attention.

Perhaps that’s why…

“Hey!”

Before I knew it, my voice came out urgently as I tried to stop them from placing their hand on the holy sword’s hilt.

Even for a being of demonic lineage—not to mention someone skilled enough to overwhelm every opponent they had faced since first revealing themselves—

Would it seem ridiculous that I didn’t want to see them get severely rejected by the holy sword, when they had been satisfied with merely subduing their opponents rather than taking their lives, and had brought me here?

But despite my outstretched hand as I called out to them urgently…

Imperfectio’s movements, displaying the same agility they had shown when subduing me, were faster.

*Chuk-*

The solid sound that came as they gripped the holy sword’s hilt indicated their hand was already on it.

‘Tsk.’

Inwardly clicking my tongue where no one could hear, I turned my head away, not wanting to witness the majestic yet potentially cruel sight of the holy sword rejecting a being tainted by demonic energy.

But that expectation of mine…

*Woong-!!*

Was shattered faster than the blink of an eye by the gentle resonating sound of the holy sword gently humming in my ears.

“…”

I stared at the holy sword that offered no resistance in Imperfectio’s hand, saying nothing.

Without a mirror, I couldn’t even predict what expression I was making, but…

I must have been showing a completely dumbfounded look, beyond the limits of astonishment.

[Wow, that’s one of the most stupefied expressions I’ve seen on your face.]

Thanks to Paphnir’s timely description of my expression as if looking in a mirror, I lost my train of thought.

As if to remind me that time continues to flow even when my thoughts have stopped in astonishment…

Unlike the demon sword, the holy sword’s gentle resonance, which calms the hearts of those who hear it, was bringing coziness to this dark, silent chamber in the obsidian palace whose location remained unknown.

I wanted to just watch, entranced by the comfort the holy sword brought to this quiet space, without taking any action, but…

A question that flashed through my mind wouldn’t allow me such peace.

It was a simple question, yet one without an easy answer.

Wait, was that holy sword always such a cheap, easy thing that would allow just anyone to hold its hilt just because they looked the same?

[Why did your tone suddenly become so crude?]

…Someone who’s no less crude than me shouldn’t be saying this…

No, that’s not the point.

-Paphnir, aren’t you astonished as well?

[What do you mean?]

-Isn’t it astonishing that the holy sword bearing the name of someone you care for would allow anyone—even a being tainted by demonic energy—to hold its hilt?

[That girl… I mean, that sword has always been moody. It stays docile for anyone it likes, regardless of who holds it.]

-What does that…

[Just understand that it inherited the disposition of its first owner.]

….

Am I hearing some ancient language that’s nearly extinct even in the western continent?

Why can’t I grasp the meaning even though the words are registering clearly in my mind?

What kind of disposition did the ancestor, Lord Lumen Ranos, have that would make the consciousness that might not even exist in this fake holy sword bearing his name accept just anyone so easily?

[Don’t misunderstand, Inseok. When I spoke of Lumen’s disposition, I meant his uprightness—his ability to recognize and respect those with strength and character he deemed worthy of respect, even if they had been mortal enemies.]

Paphnir’s words, spoken with a strangely urgent voice, echoed in my mind, but…

“Thank you for listening to my request…”

Watching Imperfectio thank the holy sword that was quietly resonating in their hand, my confused mind couldn’t be settled by that explanation alone.