#086
The next day, when Catherine opened her eyes, the maddening downpour had stopped. She bolted upright, sensing something off, and ran her hand over the cold, empty side of the bed.
"Mars?"
Mars was gone. Not only that, but the spot he'd occupied on the bed was now taken by none other than Catherine herself. Why am I the one lying here? Don't tell me in the meantime...
"Did you die?"
"Nah, I didn't die."
A perfectly steady voice quelled her fears. Plink, plink. The faint sound of water pouring came next. Mars turned away from her and approached with firm, unhesitating steps. For someone who'd gone through last night's ordeal, he looked far too composed.
"Get ready to move. We're delayed because of you, so hustle."
Catherine stared blankly at the cup of water he held out to her. Who knew the demon Mars was capable of such kindness?
"Take it already. My arm's gonna fall off."
What nonsense. The water Mars handed her was lukewarm.
How was it back then? The next day, Chezare was casually sipping tea like nothing happened, right?
Pretending like nothing occurred—same as 600 years ago or now.
"You okay?"
"What's not to be okay about?"
With his back turned, Mars dumped the camp's belongings into a small wooden box. Magic item or not, it swallowed everything without end, no matter how much he crammed in. Just like always, he was preparing for the return to Iterana Fortress this morning. Completely unfazed.
His nonchalant attitude sparked a surge of anger in her.
"Why? What's the problem that makes you keep trying to die?"
Mars didn't even pretend to listen. That only fueled her stubbornness. We're sharing a soul—how can you play dumb about something this important? If he was like this 600 years ago and a few months back, it'll just keep happening.
Catherine didn't want to lose him. Chezare was the most precious being in her world. If he was enduring unbearable mental agony, she'd share it somehow.
She set the cup down carelessly and strode to Mars, grabbing his collar.
"I don't know the reason, and of course you won't tell me even if I ask. But Mars, you can't die. Never do that again. If you die..."
If you die, then Chezare's gone too.
Only then did Mars turn to her. His sun-kissed face was so serenely calm it made her worry seem unfounded, and his impassive lips showed no sign of turmoil. He stayed silent for a long moment. Then he reached out and pinched the tip of her nose. It didn't hurt like before.
"This dumb face and expression. Still half-asleep? Quit babbling and go wash your face. We're late because of you—we gotta head out now."
His callused, rough fingers pointed outside the tent.
"Hurry."
Under his persistent urging, she finally had to leave the tent. No promise that he wouldn't pull the same stunt even if it killed him. Unsatisfying, but she couldn't exactly cling to his leg and whine. She knew death wasn't something you pried into lightly.
If Chezare pulls this again, I'll show him what for. If that day came, she'd use their soul bond as an excuse for some mental re-education. Course title: Sharing Makes Us Happier. Content... she'd figure it out step by step.
That day's march felt a bit easier than before. They'd entered a flat dirt road instead of the rugged, uneven terrain.
"A few more days and we'll reach Iterana Fortress. You said you've never seen it, miss? That grand sight'll leave you speechless."
Ah, so that's why the path was so neat. At dinner, everyone seemed more lively than usual. With family reunions so close, laughter bloomed amid the chatter.
When do I get to go back? Chezare must be worried. Or maybe not, considering the time difference.
That evening, Catherine took her rationed blue bead and headed underground again.
"You seem unusually down today."
Did Orzen really have no eyes? Just from her popping the bead in his mouth, he read her like a book.
"How do you know that without seeing?"
"I can feel it in the air."
Hard to believe, but she'd let it slide. Demon kings could probably do that.
"Shall we talk about something else today?"
"Worried about my mood?"
"You're the only friend who visits me—I want to treat you preciously."
Smooth talker. The guy who'd chased off her two 'friends' and killed the other two.
Maybe I should just ignore him from now on.
But time was short. Mars was too stubborn for reliable help. Orzen couldn't do much physically, but his mouth worked fine.
Let him use me a bit, then ask about Lilith. At least he didn't inspire elopement fantasies like the other knights—lower risk.
"How'd you end up contracting with a demon?"
Orzen tugged his lips into a sly grin.
"Fate, I guess. We clicked perfectly. Shared circumstances."
"World conquest?"
"Well, conversation led there eventually."
"What was it?"
"Death."
Orzen's voice turned eerily quiet and hollow, like it belonged to someone else. The smile lingered, but it felt too heavy and sticky for sincerity.
"We had no attachments to the world. He was weary of his endless life; I, of my impoverished one. Luckily, we got along, so we decided to stir some fun in this boring world."
Fun meaning plunging it into chaos?
Weary life. Chezare's face flashed in her mind.
"I hear they erase memories to fend off boredom."
"Erasure has limits too. Eventually, you don't even feel the need."
"The Bronze Dominator?"
A faint pity colored Orzen's reply.
"He's one of the oldest demons, alongside Lilith. After eons, who'd not tire? I ran into him as he prepared for death. We talked, contracted, and here we are."
"No regrets?"
"Regrets? If only I'd held out five more years."
Regret for not rampaging longer? Utter madman.
Catherine fell silent. Orzen's story didn't feel like someone else's. Chezare had teetered on death twice before her eyes. She'd never dared ask why, but this gave clues.
Was he tired too? Of a long, meaningless, monotonous existence.
"Other questions?"
Orzen broke the silence first, his voice lifting cheerfully at the end. He seemed to relish these chats.
After a brief hesitation, Catherine spoke.
"What does 'preparing for death' mean?"
Was Behemoth lying pathetically in the rain like Mars? Orzen whispered softly—too softly to catch.
Suddenly clamping his mouth shut, he nodded faintly toward her: come closer.
"I've thought it over, and it feels like I'm giving too much away. Untie the blindfold, and I'll answer. Archdemon death isn't in any magic tome—can't just spill it for free, right? Let's chat eye-to-eye, friends."
Won't let it slide even once. But Catherine had no reason to refuse.
If he's some ultimate heartthrob who'd ensnare me on eye contact, maybe not. Sure, handsome, but no Mars. No danger of falling like the others.
If Chezare's trying to die for the same reason as Behemoth...
How do I stop his boredom?
Catherine reached for the cloth over Orzen's eyes. Or tried to.
"...Ah."
But she couldn't. Dizziness hit suddenly, whitening her vision.
What?
Her body wouldn't obey. Hands trembled uncontrollably. Instinctively, she clutched her throat. Something was there—a metal lump the size of her thumb, stabbed into her neck.
"Sorry. On second thought, I think I said too much."
Catherine looked up at Orzen in a daze. Blood-red teeth and lips caught her eye.
"Won't hurt. That little thing's a magic tool that paralyzes and kills painlessly in one go. Named it the Gentle Knife. Fitting, right?"
Mouth. He'd hidden a weapon inside his mouth.
Orzen shook his head, voice dripping regret.
"Smart, good talker—I liked you. Shame. Feels like losing a childhood friend. Gotta keep more distance with the next one."
Mad bastard.
His red lips curved into a perfect arc—the happiest, most joyful smile she'd seen from him.
"Farewell, my 103rd dear friend, Miss Catherine."
And so Catherine met her second death. Utterly, ridiculously absurd.
...What the fuck. That fuckingasshole. You son of a bitch.
Feeling her mind fade and body chill, Catherine ground her teeth with all her might.
You think I'll just take this, you fucker?
Her foggy mind began to clear. Catherine sat up, gulping air.
In the familiar darkness, a rat head stared silently at her.
"Died again, did you?"
Teasing me right now? No time for retorts. Catherine grabbed Dantalion's collar as he loomed over her and commanded,
"Revive me."
"Tch. Should've been more careful? Though the sixth demon king did have a silver tongue. Long-lived humans sure wear good masks..."
Is this guy tone-deaf or what?
"Revive me now."
"Uh... calm down first..."
"Calm my ass—revive me, you rat head. Or I'll yank those buckteeth!"
Dantalion jerked back, raising both hands.
"Got it, got it! Right away!"
The world spun wildly. Her heightened senses from the adrenaline made her stomach churn. When she came to, it wasn't the Abyss's black horizon but a somewhat familiar space—Mars's tent.