I Was a Sinner
I was a sinner. A sinner with so many apologies to make. So maybe becoming a fugitive like this really was karma, not some false accusation—something I had to accept with calm resignation. Crunch. A crushed carrot rolling across the floor. I found some water and took a bite anyway, determined to eat it somehow. There was even a part of me that thought it was subtly sweet and not bad at all. Crunch, crunch. But as I chewed, Lobelia's face floated into my mind again, and I chucked it away half-eaten. What the hell was wrong with me that these repulsive memories I wanted gone wouldn't fade, just flooding me with disgust?
I never imagined I'd feel pity for a demon—let alone guilt. It made me feel like a madman, tormented for no reason. But what could I do? It was my fault. No matter how far back I thought, I'd never seen Lobelia smile. That meant I'd tormented her relentlessly. Self-recrimination like that led straight to her ear-splitting screams, etched into my ears like shrieks of agony. Her tears overflowed, her vomit spewed out in excess, but she'd eaten even less than that—it was almost laughable. No wonder my appetite vanished too. Staring at the discarded carrot, all I could do was sigh. Even my belly, somewhat satisfied now, filled me with loathing. This wouldn't do. I had to go to Lobelia.
Anyway, branded a traitor and great criminal in the Lugbelk Kingdom, I couldn't stay here long. Hiding out in Bellante, where humans feared to tread, wasn't all bad—but if I lingered, I'd starve doing nothing. If I wanted to act, to survive, I had to chase the biggest opportunity. There were two ways to clear my name: seize the nobles' weaknesses and flip the narrative, or gather the forged documents and evidence they'd cooked up to frame me and refute it all. The kingdom might issue the verdict, but it was the people watching. Shouting it loud among the masses would sway public opinion more effectively than any trial. But I couldn't do that right now. The alternative? Sever the Demon King's head and present it. Except... I couldn't even imagine acting on that. Not when guilt toward Lobelia gnawed at me now. How should I atone? How beg forgiveness? Could I even seek pardon as equals, not master and slave? The question tangled my thoughts.
Under the thick blanket of night, I sat lost in thought before heading to a ruined weapon shop and grabbing a few blades. Better to go early if I was going. I prepped the weapons before bed, planning an early morning departure, and settled in. No inn worth checking—most were two stories or more, collapsed entirely, no beds in sight. After agonizing, I opted for the floor. Washing was already a luxury; eating bordered on one. Being picky about where to sleep? No room for laughter anymore.
Was this how Lobelia felt? Unable to wander alone, terrified of me, blocked from washing, eating, sleeping—just enduring day after endless day. How agonizing must that have been? What apology could I offer for the pain she'd borne? With that, I finally closed my eyes on the cold, hard floor. It took ages to drift off, discomfort gnawing at me.
Morning light crept in, and hauling myself up proved sleeping on the floor was inefficient. Stretching my stiff neck side to side, I heard loud crackles—pop, crackle. Time to go. To Lobelia, to beg forgiveness. If I could even excise that alien force dominating her body, better still. With that, I stepped forward.
Black soil. Mana-saturated land. I drew my sword ahead of time and exhaled sharply. This must be what walking alone into enemy territory felt like. Tension slicked sweat onto my sword-grip hand.
Normally, entering the Demon Realm demanded heavy prep: comrades to fend off swarming demons, rations to reach the Demon King's Castle. But I had none of that. No comrades to preserve my mana and condition for facing the Demon King, no food packed. My mana was low too—nearly depleted getting from the capital to Bellante, with only what I'd regained sleeping left. Honestly, reaching the castle was a gamble. Back when I fled, abandoning my soldiers who'd died protecting me, I'd poured mana into a mad sprint without noticing how few magic beasts lurked nearby. I was banking on the same luck now. Hoping for none again.
I set out at dawn and walked until the sun peaked and began its descent.
"Shit."
The ten-day trek I'd blitzed with body enhancement felt endless on foot. I'd considered walking a few days to build strength, then running—but scrapped it fast. What if I arrived and Lobelia snapped her fingers for magic? No countering that. Self-loathing and guilt had me ditch even the scavenged carrot, and now starving all day made me crave it. This suffering made her potato obsession click. Constant mistreatment wore her down, so she brought a fork? Understanding her crept in again, furrowing my brow.
I groaned, sword at the ready as I walked, and soon the sun dipped low. Killing a magic beast for its mana stone would help. Groaning like that, the sun sank further, and I slipped into a forest of black trees. Vast plains lay aside, but no need risking open ground. Needed shelter at least. Maybe a fruit tree if lucky. Though who knew if Demon Realm trees bore fruit.
Pondering, I found a sleep spot. Used a massive tree as base, dug the ground beside it. Gathered darkish leaves after. Sweating buckets, I finally had a bed. Heaven compared to bare hard floor. Fluffy earth even, leaves cocooning me cozily. Alone, no night watch needed. My barrier would block one attack mid-sleep.
Lying down to rest, hunger hit—no food all day. Growl. Groaning, I shut my eyes. One day fine. Forage tomorrow. Vowing that, I slept to drown the hunger.
How long? Screeeeech!
"Wh-what?!"
Not rising sun or birdsong woke me. My ever-active sleep barrier. I flailed up in panic, snatched my nearby sword, scanned wildly.
Grrrrr.Awooooooo!
Ah, Rascal's pack. Red beast eyes fixed on me. The first attacker hesitated, wary after barrier block, but the largest shadow behind roared furious.
Awooo!
Worst case. Darkness hid it, but Rascal was here too. Pack howls echoed the leader's, grating my ears unpleasantly. Chills ran deep, but survival first. Demon Realm soil leaked mana while I slept—a bit recovered. Enough to hold. I swung my sword, hurled grabbed daggers. They bounced off hides or vanished into dark—useless. Direct hits only worked, but beasts melted into shadows, denying think time. Nocturnal pack? No tree collisions in gloom. Frowning into my darkened vision, I was at disadvantage.
"...Can't even sleep right."
Planned night rests with caution, but beasts thrived nocturnal here. Should've slept days, moved nights. Wouldn't have entered forest. Thinking that, I mana-infused my sword and swung.