The Devourer
"W-what do you mean by that?" Perlin barely managed to answer.
Ronin nodded, unfazed by her awkward response.
"There's no need to find it strange. It's simply an ability I possess," Ronin calmly continued.
"Ever since I was born, I could see people's souls. Their shapes, their sizes, their colors."
Perlin was temporarily lost for words.
"You can see the shape of souls?"
"Yes."
Ronin stared at her.
"That's why I entered the Magic Tower. This talent of mine is incredibly helpful for magic. Becoming the Magic Tower Master was ultimately an extension of that."
He shrugged lightly.
"But you possess a soul of a shape I have never seen before."
Ronin swept his gaze up and down Perlin once more.
"It has two layers. Your soul, that is. Two souls are overlapping inside one body. The soul that appeared to be the original owner of the body was already dead. An external soul has devoured the owner's soul. I have never seen such a soul before, nor have I seen one since."
Ronin continued to stroke Perlin's hair.
"Perhaps because you possess such a unique soul, I find myself even more drawn to you."
Perlin felt a chill of dread under his gaze, which seemed to pierce through everything.
"Ah."
Ronin let out a soft exclamation as if remembering something.
"The Grand Marshal of the Empire whom I met recently was also quite peculiar. Though he was different from you."
Perlin froze at those words.
"You mean Grand Marshal Berhart?"
"Yes."
"Can you explain in more detail?"
Ronin tilted his head slightly in curiosity, but he did not refuse her request.
"It was simply... incredibly massive and radiant."
"Is that all?"
"It was impossible to look any closer. It felt as though my ability wasn't permitted to see any further."
"……."
She had asked the question wondering if Grand Marshal Berhart's sudden change was due to transmigration like her own, but the mystery only deepened instead of being resolved.
"Get some rest. I'll bring you some food when it's time," Ronin spoke in a kind voice. His smile remained gentle. No matter what she had realized, or how he chose to interpret it, his smile never wavered.
"It will take a few more days for you to assimilate the fragment."
He wound a strand of her hair around his fingertip.
"In the meantime, I will refine you well."
Ronin slowly unraveled the hair from his finger. Then, he planted a brief kiss on Perlin's cheek. His lips were ice-cold.
"See you later."
He slowly turned around.
The sound of the door closing echoed.
Perlin slowly slid away from the wall. Her legs had lost all strength. It took a conscious effort just to take a single step.
She collapsed back onto the fur.
Her hands were trembling violently. Yet, her mind cooled down rapidly, beginning to assess the situation.
"……."
Ronin knew her soul had two layers. He must have known from the very beginning. But that was as far as his sight went. He didn't know what lay inside that soul, where it came from, or what she knew.
That was the only safety line she had left. However, one thing bothered Perlin.
'A form where one soul has preyed upon the other.'
She chewed on that phrasing for a long time.
She had no way of knowing if transmigration was originally like that. She only possessed the awareness of being a transmigrator; she didn't understand the actual mechanics of it.
Yet, from Ronin's tone, it didn't sound like the result of a normal transmigration. He had said her soul was unlike anyone else's. And he had mentioned there was one other person who was just as extraordinary.
Arsen Berhart.
Was he a transmigrator too? She suspected it for a moment, but quickly dismissed the thought. If he were a transmigrator like her, he should have shown at least some vulnerability.
Because transmigrators suffered from gaps in their memories.
Perlin—no, Lee Haneul—had been utterly panicked by those memory gaps when she first dropped into this world. She had to desperately squeeze out information from the original novel to act as Perlin Claire. The only memories she possessed were basic, instinctual common sense.
What Perlin liked, what she hated, whom she loved, and whom she despised—she had to reconstruct all of it from the descriptions she read in the book. But Grand Marshal Berhart was identical to his original self in every way, except for his personality.
Considering there was barely any description of Arsen Berhart in the original novel, such a level of acting would have been impossible.
"What on earth is he...?"
In the end, her questions about his identity scattered incoherently. Perlin decided to shelve those doubts in a corner of her mind.
That wasn't the problem she needed to solve right now.
Perlin slowly stood up and looked around the room again. A glass tube in one corner of the room caught her eye.
It was strange. When she had first woken up, looking at it had only filled her with a vague dread. It was something she instinctively wanted to distance herself from. But now, it was drawing her in.
Perlin watched her feet slowly move toward it. It wasn't a conscious movement.
"……."
She eventually came to a stop in front of the glass tube with slow steps. Up close, the object inside was about the size of a palm. An amorphous lump was pulsating at a steady rhythm.
Perlin slowly placed a hand on the glass. It was cold. Yet, beyond that coldness, she felt something.
Something traveled up her arm, starting from her palm. A massive craving resonated from it.
I want to have this.
I want to possess this.
I want to claim this.
I want to absorb this.
I want to devour th—
"Ugh!"
Perlin gasped. She grabbed her own wrist with her other hand and forced it away. The moment she broke contact with the glass, the sensation rapidly vanished.
Panting heavily, she took a step back from it.
Her hands were still trembling. But she couldn't tell if the trembling was from fear or something else entirely.
'He said strong desire attracts the fragments.'
She recalled a setting like that in the original novel. Perhaps her desire to survive was what drew her to the fragment.
"But I can't become a demon."
She had to survive somehow. But the method couldn't be turning into a demon.
The guest room of the Imperial Palace.
I immediately left the room, taking the Hero and Hailyn with me. Our destination was the communication room.
"It seems best to seek the Saintess's permission first," the Hero said.
"Let's do that."
Upon arriving at the communication room, I had Hailyn sit to one side and approached the communication magic tool with the Hero.
"Where shall I connect you, Marshal?" the operator asked.
"The Holy Kingdom. To the Saintess."
Following my instructions, the communications officer activated the magic tool. After waiting for about ten minutes, a figure materialized from the device.
It was the Saintess.
She wore a light coat over her white priestly robes. Her long, light blue-tinted white hair cascaded down. Her eyes shared the same hue.
"Hero. And beside you is the war hero of the Empire. I heard this was an urgent contact."
"Yes, Saintess," the Hero replied.
"Greetings," I said.
The Hero and I took turns giving brief replies.
"Is this regarding the demonization of the Empire's Magic Tower Master?" the Saintess asked calmly.
"Yes. Someone has appeared who possesses information about him."
"That is fortunate."
"However, that person is a demon."
The Hero paused for a moment before continuing.
"She was forcibly turned into a demon by the Magic Tower Master, so she has agreed to cooperate with us and has accepted the seal I cast. Even so, a demon is still a demon. Therefore, we believe we need your permission, Saintess, to make use of her."
At the Hero's explanation, the Saintess's expression grew complex.
"Is she there?"
"Yes."
"It seems she has quite a story behind her demonization."
The Saintess's voice gently reached Hailyn.
Hailyn slowly stepped forward, showing her face to the communication magic tool. Her gaze met the Saintess's through the projection.
In that instant, a golden light flickered in the Saintess's eyes.
"Have you ever succumbed to demonic instincts?"
"……Once."
The Saintess nodded slowly and continued.
"Are you confident you won't be dragged down by those instincts again?"
"……I'm not confident. But I won't do it."
The Saintess nodded once more. The golden light faded from her eyes.
"Hero. What form does the seal take?"
"It seals her demonic authority and all of her demonic energy."
"A high-tier seal that requires the demon's own consent, then."
"Yes. Furthermore, the Marshal and I will monitor her closely so we can execute her immediately if any suspicious signs appear."
"I see."
The Saintess fell silent for a moment. Various complex thoughts seemed to weave behind her benevolent expression.
"I will grant my permission," she replied calmly.
"For anyone can repent. The Goddess says so as well. Whether using a repentant soul as a tool is right or wrong... is a matter of human responsibility rather than the realm of faith. If you two are willing to bear that responsibility, I am in no position to stop you."
"Thank you," the Hero said, bowing his head in gratitude. I also showed my respects.
"I will report this to His Holiness the Pope myself. I will tell him that I support your judgment."
The Saintess's gaze lingered on Hailyn for a moment.
"Please, hold fast to that resolve until the very end."
"I understand. I will."
Hailyn replied, bowing her head toward the Saintess.
"Very well."
The Saintess averted her eyes from Hailyn. Then, she began to stare at me.
Her eyes were dyed in gold once more. At the same time, a soft smile graced her face.
Unlike before, however, there was a strange playfulness laced within that smile.
"By the way, I have many things I am curious about regarding the Empire's war hero."
It was an abrupt remark.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I have heard a few things through an oracle."
The Saintess's smile deepened.
"Though, it is not a story to unfold right now. It would only burden you."
"……."
"Please return safely, both of you. And no matter what you see there, do not look too deeply into it."
With those final words, the Saintess ended the transmission. The light of the magic tool faded, and her image dissolved.
Come to think of it, the Saintess had sent a letter to the Hero in the past.
Was it, 'There is one who has changed there'?
I had briefly wondered if that letter predicted the Magic Tower Master's demonization. But looking at her reaction just now, that didn't seem to be the case.
Did she truly recognize my transmigration, then?
"Hmm."
Well, it didn't really matter.
Even if she did, my priority was still to decapitate the Magic Tower Master first before worrying about anything else. Caring about other matters this early was a luxury.