episode_0155

I hastily distanced myself from Elle.

“Take my memories? What are you talking about?”

“I can read Eric’s memories and extract only the information I need. We’re bound by a contract, after all. Then I can use the continental language—just like how Eric is fluent in demonic speech now.”

“So you’re scraping away at my memories? What happens to them afterward?”

“Nothing. All I’m doing is reading your memories to learn what I need. Nothing more.”

“There’s no side effect for me?”

“Nope.”

It would certainly be easier to just trust Elle and transfer my mana to her. But right now, every moment felt like walking a tightrope—and Elle was essentially an obstacle placed right in front of that rope.

One wrong move here, and I’d plummet straight down. And the landing would be far worse than death.

“Fine. I’ll trust you. On one condition.”

“Condition?”

“Yeah.”

As I spoke, I pulled out an artifact from my pocket. Not the usual Ironclad Blessing I always carried, but one I had never mentioned to anyone.

“What’s that?”

“You can see for yourself. It’s the Tear of Darkness. You’ve at least heard of it, right?”

“Nope. Is it a gem? It sparkles. Pretty~”

“Uh…”

Elle genuinely seemed to have no idea what the artifact in my hand was capable of. Deflated, I quietly began explaining.

“So, basically…”

After a brief explanation, Elle nodded enthusiastically.

“I get it now! So that shiny thing is Eric’s last resort, right?”

“Exactly. Maybe not against the Demon King, but it could easily wipe out a demon on your level.”

The Tear of Darkness. In the original story, it was just a simple MacGuffin, but its utility was terrifyingly cost-effective. Ever since I arrived in this world, it ranked right alongside the Ironclad Blessing as something I desperately sought—and also the artifact I least wanted to use.

Its effect was straightforward. Drop a single tear, think of the being you want dead, and they die. No defense could stop it—pure, unadulterated death. The method was as simple as a certain infamous notebook from an anime, but there was a reason I hesitated to use it.

“But Eric, won’t you die too if you use it?”

“I know. But unleashing something on par with the Demon King into this world would be a hundred times worse.”

A single-use artifact. Once its curse was unleashed, the Tear would become nothing more than a piece of black, glittering stone.

And there was another catch—the moment its target died, the artifact would also claim its owner’s life. It was the perfect embodiment of a suicide attack, a merciless artifact.

Yet, precisely for that reason, it was one of the first artifacts I sought after alongside the Ironclad Blessing. If this fell into the wrong hands, our party—or anyone of similar importance—could be wiped out without warning.

How do I know? Because in the first playthrough, I had to go through hell to retrieve it from a dark mage’s possession.

After a brutal struggle, we barely managed to subdue the dark mage who kept threatening to take us all down with him.

“Can you kill the Demon King with that gem?”

“You? Definitely.”

That was actually a bluff. The Tear of Darkness supposedly killed anything without fail, but thanks to the original story’s rules, the Demon King was an exception.

The cliché rule—”Only the Holy Sword can slay the Demon King”—rendered my last resort useless back then.

But Elle was different. She didn’t radiate that overwhelming presence I felt from the Demon King. Right now, she was just a demon who happened to look eerily similar.

“If you try anything suspicious, Elle, I’m activating this immediately. Think carefully.”

“Uu… okay. Sorry, Eric. I don’t wanna die.”

Seeing Elle’s childlike reaction, I decided to take a step back. If what she said was true, cooperating would cost me nothing and might even be necessary for the future. But unfortunately, I didn’t have many reasons to trust her yet.

“Does it have to be my memories? Isn’t there another way?”

“Dunno.”

“Right…”

Watching Elle flatly reject the idea, I desperately scrambled for another solution. The only certainty in our contract was that our lives were tied together—right now, I could feel our mana tangled intricately within me. But beyond that, I knew nothing.

The magical framework of demons? Where was I supposed to learn that? The only ones who might know were Elia and Chris, but asking them about demonic magic? That’d be suicide.

Showing up with Elle in tow and casually saying, “Hey, I made a pact with this demon who looks exactly like the Demon King—oh, and if one of us dies, the other does too. Wanna figure out the fine print?”—yeah, not happening.

If I did, I’d probably end up locked in the mansion until the Demon King’s invasion.

“I understand your point. But right now, I need a third party who knows about our contract—and demonic magic. Someone other than you.”

“A human who knows dark magic? No clue.”

Figured. I didn’t know either. Dark mages were elusive, and out of ten, nine were scum who’d long abandoned their humanity.

The last one was just scum who hadn’t given up yet. Asking them about our contract would be pointless—most of them just stole demonic magic by force.

In the end, the only way to understand this contract was to ask Chris or Elia. But how?

As I agonized over it, Elle, bored, flopped onto my bed.

“Eric.”

“Hmm?”

“You don’t trust me ’cause I’m a demon, right? Because demons fight humans.”

“That’s right.”

I admitted plainly. Lying here was pointless—if this helped Elle grasp her position better, all the better.

“Then… would you be happier if I left?”

Elle lay on the bed, her head hanging off the edge, staring upside-down at me. The moment our eyes met, my words died in my throat.

“Well, Eric? If you hate me, I’ll figure something out. The contract can be canceled.”

“It can?”

“If you agree. I’ll… agree too.”

“But then you’d—”

“Just go back to how things were before I met you. It’s fine. This country’s huge. If I hide carefully, no one will find me.”

“That’s not the problem. Right now, you’re—”

“So don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t look at me with those eyes.”

Elle’s expression mirrored countless people I’d seen in the first playthrough.

“Don’t worry! We’ll hold this fortress until you arrive!”

(Guild Master.)

“If we run now, we’ll die anyway. Might as well try.”

“If I’m gonna die either way, might as well go out with a bang. Maybe the goddess will pity me.”

“Just go. For the world.”

“Sorry this is all I can offer. Just take the money and leave.”

“……”

The eyes of those who charged forward, resigned to injury and death. Eyes unburdened by worldly attachments, as if already detached from life itself.

“There’s a lot I wanted to ask, but it’s okay. I’ll find my own answers. Eric saved me. That’s enough—I shouldn’t ask for more.”

That kind of gaze—one that made everyone else feel inferior before selfishly finding satisfaction—I knew exactly who it reminded me of.

“Don’t joke around.”

“Huh?”

Elle was the spitting image of me from the first playthrough. And I hated that version of myself.

“And then what? You die, and your demon corpse rolls around the streets? You think the Empire wouldn’t investigate? If Chris or the others find you, it won’t end well. No—if a dark mage captures you, or gets their hands on your body? Then it goes way beyond tragedy.”

“Eric?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I still don’t trust you. But that doesn’t mean I’m abandoning you. If you can prove yourself, I’ll help you. So quit jumping to conclusions. I’ll pass on the melodramatic tragedy, thanks.”

If she wanted to play the tragic heroine, she could do it elsewhere. Fortunately, Elle, seemingly overwhelmed, quietly nodded.

She was still sprawled on the bed, though, and nodding vigorously while upside-down inevitably led to—

Thunk!

“Ow!”

Watching Elle bang her head against the bed frame, I nodded in approval.

Yeah. No way this could be the Demon King.