#088 How Should I Answer?
How should she answer? In truth, there was no need to agonize over it. Mars wouldn't suspect her without solid proof, so the response was already decided.
"That's right."
A long silence descended. Mars tilted his head slightly, slowly closing and opening his eyes. Catherine tensed. He stared at her face for a long moment before spitting out a single sentence.
"As long as you don't lie, I won't have to kill you like last time."
Was this a threat to stick to the facts, or reassurance that he'd at least spare her life? She couldn't tell.
"Who gave you this?"
Mars's rough nail brushed the ring. In that instant, Catherine was plunged into intense anguish. Should she reveal Dantalion's existence?
'That rat bastard lied to me.'
He'd clearly said it was a ring that extended her lifespan, but when she opened it up, it turned out to be a ring that opened a passage through time and space. As the saying goes, you don't get fooled by a liar twice. Catherine spilled it obediently.
"Dantalion."
Mars's reaction was unexpected. No surprise or anger—just a face that accepted it as a matter of course.
"I see... So that's why you're trying to meet Lilith."
A ring transcending time and space. Dantalion. Lilith. What connected these three to lead to that conclusion? With no way to know, she decided to let it slide for now.
"Then was what you said before also true?"
Catherine immediately grasped what remark Mars was referring to.
"That you'd become the founder of the Iterana Empire? Yes."
"And after that."
After that? After that would be...
"That you'd get a contractor? That's true too."
His eyes sharpened. At the same time, the frozen air thawed, and the magic arrows aimed at her vanished in an instant. In their place, Mars's hand appeared. His firm hand touched Catherine's cheek. It seemed like he was stroking her skin, then he gently lifted her disheveled hair.
"Red hair."
His thumb lightly brushed her eye. It was a cautious touch, conveying only the faintest warmth.
"A woman around twenty."
Mars's eyes weren't fierce like before. They simply held Catherine's face entirely. Every time that inscrutable gaze, which somehow stirred something deep in her chest, met hers, waves of unknown origin surged through her mind. Catherine belatedly realized she'd been holding her breath.
"It means that after hundreds of years, you'll become mine."
The fingertips pressing her skin burned hot. Soon, Mars's hand withdrew. He turned, sat on the bed, and called to her.
"Come here."
Bed. Mars. Come here. Somehow, a combination that made her heart churn like a reed field before a typhoon.
"W-why?" Catherine asked, tense as a bowstring. Stammering, uncharacteristically.
"Need to unwrap the bandages. They must be all healed by now, right?"
Ah.
Catherine meekly sat beside him. Mars casually reached out and unwound her bandages. I could do it myself. If she wasn't imagining it, Mars treated her like a child—not like a babbling infant, but subtly caring for the little things.
'That Mars?'
Am I going crazy? But no matter how she thought about it, he had that side. In that way, he differed slightly from Chezare. Chezare cared openly, not subtly.
Catherine touched her now-free neck. No discomfort, but Mars's scrutinizing gaze felt a bit intrusive.
"What's your name?"
Yet that unease melted away like snow at his short question.
'Name?' Is he asking for my name now? I told him like ten days ago, right? Stunned by the unexpected query, she blurted it back.
"How could you not even remember my name?"
Mars replied with a perfectly matter-of-fact expression.
"I only remember what's necessary."
Of course you'd say that with your personality! But hearing it directly was worlds apart from vaguely sensing it. Catherine snorted and decided to ignore his question.
"Fine. What's the point of needing my name? Don't bother using it from now on, just like before. Stick to hey, you there, over there, you, hey."
"Getting worked up over nothing."
Mars looked pensive. His usually indifferent eyes scanned her face and the air several times. With a short click of his tongue, he changed the subject entirely.
"Then let me ask something else. Why'd you cling to me like a leech to meet me?"
It was a golden question that reignited Catherine's recently lax sense of purpose.
"Great question! That's the most important part."
The leech bit stung, but it was true, so no comeback.
"I came back 600 years to meet the Void Dominator. If I don't, I can't return to the future."
Mars furrowed his brow, as if he couldn't comprehend.
"Do you really have to go back?"
Then, as if pointing out the obvious for her sake, he continued.
"Contract with me here. It'll be no different from the future."
A claim that contracting with Mars or Chezare amounted to the same thing. It shut down any retort.
'Chezare and Mars are the same person, sure.'
But in Catherine's mind, they were subtly distinct. Their visible actions and speech differed greatly, for starters. If Mars had the raw, untamed aura of a beast roaming the plains, Chezare was every bit the gentleman with his claws neatly sheathed. She liked both, but fundamentally saw herself as belonging to Chezare. And that was right.
"How is that the same?"
"I'll found the Iterana Empire just like in the future you know and give you all the wealth and power."
He looked smug, like he'd made a generous offer. When Catherine's reaction remained flat, Mars bristled openly and sniped.
"What's with that shit-eating face? Not good enough? Greedy bitch. Guess future me gave you something even greater?"
Future you did gift me amazing things. The royal pendant, an imperial knight for the garden, unintended fame...
But none of that mattered much to Catherine.
"If I can't go back to the future, I'll die, Mars."
Setting aside the many reasons piling up, that was the immediate problem. She dies if she can't return to her original world. In other words, if she couldn't secure Lilith within 20 days, it was over.
Mars asked with a hardened expression.
"When's the deadline?"
"Three days left."
Yeah, only three days remained. 'And I've done nothing. Time just slipped away uselessly.' Knowing the ring's true nature could have bought her a few extra days. But she was glad to have conveyed the truth to Mars, even belatedly. In this situation where Orzen's psychopathic side was revealed, Mars was the only one who could help her.
"Then return this ring on the third day."
With those words, Mars produced the crystal rose ring. Unlike its initial pitch-black, it was now pure white. It whitens with lifespan consumed—or so he'd said, but apparently it changed color regardless. The ring vanished from his hand. Catherine grew anxious. If it truly transcended time and space, without it she couldn't even get home, let alone save Lilith. Meaning the ring was her lifeline.
"Mars. You're not thinking of killing me because you hate me that much, are you...?"
"On the third day, I'll take you to Lilith."
Stunned by the unforeseen proposal, Catherine blinked dumbly.
"Really?"
A Great Demon wouldn't lie, surely. But in this world where contractors of Great Demons backstabbed each other without batting an eye, she extended her pinky and pressed Mars.
"For real? Promise."
Mars hooked his pinky with a less-than-thrilled face. He does it if I ask, huh. Is this sweet? Maybe this gentleness evolved year by year into the current Chezare.
"But why wait the full three days? ...Ah. Because of the demon king meal duty? I am pretty good at it. Didn't fall for you at first sight and run off, didn't get scared and bail."
Now she thought she knew why Mars was giving her this chance. Just as the ferret mask advised, she'd earned his trust!
'He really does like competent people.'
Even back home, she'd have to work hard. Mars extended his hand as if he'd heard something utterly distasteful.
"Don't ever go see that damn bastard again. Hand over the key too—gonna burn it."
Catherine obediently returned the key. It turned to a handful of ash amid his threats. Arms crossed, leaning against the wall, Mars jerked his chin lightly.
"From now on, for three days, do exactly as I say."
"Why?"
"Don't like it?"
From "why" to "don't like it?"—what kind of conversational pivot was that? Catherine stepped back awkwardly, eyeing him suspiciously. The day he'd said "order anything," he'd assigned demon king meal duty. So what would it be this time? She'd been led by the nose again. This time, not just tugged, but swung side to side, however slightly.
"Not gonna eat you, so drop that annoying look. Too young to eat—gotta raise you at least 600 more years."
How to interpret that? A warning she'd have to become the meal itself next time, not just serve it? Or...
"Got it."
Better not dig deeper. Thinking more would make it impossible to keep a straight face.
Mars summoned her again right after lunch during the march.
"Is it okay for us to sneak off like this alone?"
They dashed into the underbrush while the march resumed.
"If they were the type to get lost without me, they'd have been wiped out long ago."
A pointless question met with a pointless answer.
"Where are we going?"
No reply. Soon, they entered a wide meadow. Standing in the center, Mars finally parted his tightly shut lips.
"I hate waiting more than anything. It shreds what little will to live I have."
Catherine bit her lip at the sudden statement. An unimaginably long time. At the end of that monotonous life, the answer called death. Hearing it straight from Mars felt like her heart plummeting off a cliff.
"So I need to check if you're worth waiting 600 years for."