Chapter 172
Chapter: 172
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 172
>Chapter Title: Logistics Relay Station (3)
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>“I’ve prepared a bed in the carriage for you, Your Highness.”
After a somewhat hectic dinner.
As Sungjin sipped the after-dinner tea poured by Captain Bruno, Edith approached and spoke to him.
The long-distance travel carriages from the imperial palace that Sungjin’s group had brought along were designed so that the luggage crates loaded in the back could be fitted together to form a bed.
Of course, moving those heavy boxes was no small hassle, but it wasn’t difficult at all for Edith, an aura user.
The Wolf Knights, who had watched her with wide eyes as she effortlessly hoisted crates that would take several sturdy men to carry, soon nodded in understanding.
‘Ah, so the maid is actually a guard knight! That’s why...!’
‘She’s hiding her true identity to secretly protect the prince!’
From that moment on, the Wolf Knights began respectfully addressing Edith as “Lady Edith.”
Of course, the utterly oblivious Edith just tilted her head in confusion, so the misunderstanding persisted for quite some time.
[Khehehek. I’m drunkkk.]
As he warmed himself by the cozy bonfire and sipped his tea, the Demon King slurred strangely in Sungjin’s mind again. Right now, the guy was excitedly flitting between the drunken revelers.
This guy’s even possessing people to drink now?
[I’m just borrowing some of their senses for a bit.]
The Demon King, in high spirits, explained in a cheerful hum.
[Even though we’ve left the capital, your father’s barrier prevents soul detection like before. But possessing low-mental-defense creatures to briefly influence their movements or borrow their senses is still possible.]
And right now, the area was full of drunks. Mostly humans whose mental barriers were at their weakest.
‘Is drinking that great?’
Sungjin was dumbfounded by the raw happiness flooding his mind.
But.
[Why wouldn’t it be? Even grass-munching talk makes it taste good.]
The Demon King shot back promptly, then added in a slightly aggrieved tone.
[I’ve been stuck as a soul for months now. Couldn’t eat, couldn’t feel anything. Can you even imagine what that’s like?]
‘Hmm...’
Sungjin had to admit, even superficially, starving as a soul sounded like tremendous stress. Regardless of whether there was a body to feel hunger or not.
Just look at how prickly Seo Iseo had become lately after Cardmos stole her mealtimes.
Then, a sudden thought struck Sungjin.
‘Hey, could you try that with me, then?’
[What?]
‘Borrowing senses. Then you could taste what I taste.’
Wouldn’t that be easier than him buzzing around chaotically?
It was a simple idea, but the Demon King fell silent in surprise for a moment before cautiously asking.
[...You’d allow that?]
Does it even need permission?
[Of course. Normally, it’s only possible briefly when the target’s mental defenses are extremely low. For a healthy person, you need a contract or some other form of consent. And for some reason, Seongjin, your soul is weirdly hard to interfere with. Even though we’re close enough to exchange thoughts.]
Come to think of it, back when he first arrived in this world, the Demon King had grumbled that soul detection didn’t work on Sungjin.
[This could be sensitive. Allowing sense-sharing means permitting some control over your body, in a way. Without precise contract terms, letting just anyone do it could let a demon seize your body in an instant.]
‘Eh...’
Sungjin didn’t think much of it.
Technically, you’re already squatting in my head without permission, aren’t you? No matter how he looked at it, it didn’t seem risky.
‘Just give it a try. I don’t know how to grant permission, but I’ll try not to resist.’
[Okay, not sure if it’ll work, but I’ll try.]
Then, something rustled in his mind. Not like anything was being touched, just the raw feeling of the guy grunting and focusing somewhere.
After a while, the objects in front of him suddenly shimmered and glowed in bizarre colors.
‘Hey, you doing that right?’
[Uh, sorry. Messed up the vision, I guess.]
A red glint flashed in Sungjin’s pupils for an instant, but it was so fleeting no one noticed.
Soon, his vision normalized.
[...Harder than I thought.]
Sungjin waited patiently.
By the time he’d emptied his teacup and Captain Bruno had poured him a fresh hot one.
[Phew. Think it worked now.]
The Demon King finally sighed in relief.
Hmm, what changed? Sungjin tilted his head and gulped down the steaming tea.
That instant.
[Whoaaa!]
An exclamation echoed in his mind.
[What is this? It’s insanely good? Grass-steeped water can taste like this?]
How’s that? Amazing, right?
Sungjin smirked triumphantly and took another sip. Another burst of intense admiration followed.
[Kwaaa! The aroma’s the best! That klutz made something this incredible!?]
The Demon King was instantly hooked on the Melbourne tea. He begged so much for more that Sungjin had to ask Captain Bruno for another cup.
Thanks to that, Sungjin ended up full instead.
‘...Fine, I’ll let it slide today.’
Sungjin decided to be generous for one day.
It had been months since the guy tasted anything good.
Before long, night deepened, and the noise around them began to die down. The Wolf Knights left sentries and retired to their tents one by one, leaving only a few die-hard drinkers still awake.
Nearby, a bard troupe must have set up, as strains of melancholic melody drifted on string instrument accompaniment now and then.
A fair lady’s quiet longing brushes past the stars.
Grant that wish, O silver moon, in the radiant city of love.
The lyrics were kinda cheesy.
Anyway, Sungjin sat by the bonfire, testing sense-sharing with the Demon King.
After some practice, intense senses like smell and taste became easier to share. Hearing and sight could be conveyed briefly too.
But those didn’t need practice since the Demon King’s soul could perceive them well enough anyway.
Surprisingly, touch and pain didn’t transmit no matter how hard they tried. After a few more attempts, they gave up cleanly.
‘Like sight and hearing. Maybe no need to share...’
There was another result. After focusing on transmitting senses for a while, fragments of memories started flowing over too!
The Demon King couldn’t actively probe them, but for memories Sungjin recalled and willed to share, they transmitted vividly, just like soul detection.
Thanks to that, Sungjin could convey his memory of the Rift at the Nativity Festival more accurately.
[Whoa, this is dizzying.]
The Demon King peeked at the scene in the memory and clicked his tongue.
[No wonder you couldn’t hear me calling. With space-time so jumbled, it’s no surprise I felt like your body was in two places at once.]
Definitely, time and space senses were twisted arbitrarily. Just recalling that space now made him queasy again.
[Probably a device to minimize causality defiance. High demons twist and warp space to interfere with the Delcros dimension without directly manipulating causality.]
According to the Demon King, high-ranking demons like them bore unimaginable causality loads with every action.
Unless they descended directly via ritual, they couldn’t meddle freely in other dimensions without causality.
So they spread attributes symbolizing themselves—Famine, Plague, War, Death—to lay the groundwork for invading dimensions first.
‘Then why is Father bound by causality restrictions? He’s not even from another dimension.’
The question arose naturally. Back then, he’d said something about lacking causality and it taking time.
The Demon King nodded puzzledly too.
[Dunno. I don’t get it either. Makes sense if he forced into another dimension, but defending his own? And he’s monstrous, sure, but still human. Should be freest from causality...]
The Demon King pondered briefly, but no answer magically appeared.
He changed the subject.
[More importantly, those attackers. They came as thought-forms to minimize causality, but they’re definitely those demons targeting Delcros before.]
The Demon King affirmed Sungjin’s sense of familiarity.
The ones from the dimensional border. Just in thought-form, lacking the terrifying pressure of their true selves.
[And I can guess their epithets...]
‘Really?’
[Yeah, probably ‘Famine’ and ‘Plague.’]
[Famine], devouring all in sight, often appears as a black hound. His hellhounds and demonkin guards mostly resemble dogs too.
[Plague] tends to take forms reminiscent of plants.
[And something weird: how do they know about Morres?]
Right, come to think of it.
Too urgent back then to notice, but they’d said:
-But that face, why so familiar?
-Of course. Didn’t you prepare him yourself and fail to recognize him?
What did they prepare about Morres?
The thought didn’t continue. A sorrowful wail suddenly came from over there.
“Kuheheuk!”
The bard who’d been singing mournfully tossed his lyre to the ground and collapsed. A young man with long braided hair.
Ting!
One lyre string snapped with a sharp noise.
The sudden commotion made the pleasantly drunk mercenaries, dozing off, grimace and rise.
“What? What’s going on?”
“Why’s that guy suddenly bawling like a beggar?”
“Uhuhuheuk!”
The youth’s wails rose to match the mercenaries’ gruff voices.
Soon, the now-awakened mercenaries began glaring at him one by one.
As the air grew tense, another bard quickly stepped in front of the youth.
“This friend’s just too drunk, please understand. Back in Carthage, he’s pretty famous for impromptu poetry performances. Invited to Bertrand Street for the Nativity Festival, but he’s off his game—totally bombed. Three days of boos, not a single coin earned.”
Then, another fellow bard nearby snickered.
“Coins? Be grateful no rocks flew!”
“Hey!”
“What? Wrong? Always stubborn with his talent and improv, but on Bertrand Street, he sang the most outdated crap!”
The youth on the ground rose and wailed.
“Kuheuk! Radiant city of love my ass, screw it! Delcros is a dead city! Cursed place!”
His sudden blasphemy chilled the air instantly.
What did that fool call the millennium holy city!
“That city stole my inspiration, my talent! It’s like a still-life painting—everything frozen!”
“Hey, calm down. You’re too drunk!”
His comrade grabbed him, realizing the gravity, but the youth’s cries continued.
“Don’t pretend, all of you! Wanderers from everywhere get lavishly invited, but after a few shows, they flee home. You all know why!”
He sprang up and shouted.
“Because staying long kills your artistic soul! The spark that can’t become flame just burns out futilely!”
“Enough!”
“Passion! Love! Yearning! I felt no fierce desire there! That’s why my songs abandoned me!”
At those words, Sigurd Sigurson’s recent remark flashed in Sungjin’s mind.
-In this halted world, you alone were my one true friend who understood me.
Meanwhile, the drunken youth kept ranting.
“Even the street’s fairest maiden couldn’t bring back my songs! The capital became my soul’s grave!”
Now the mercenaries hurled sharp rebukes one by one.
“Blame the capital for your own shortcomings!”
“Yeah, yeah!”
“Shame on you! If the Lord’s grace took your song, it means your art was debauched and impure!”
The youth screamed back defiantly.
“My art impure? Then gladly, I’d sell my soul to the devil again! Without those radiant songs, what meaning does my life have!”
Like ice water doused, the air turned frigid.
Everyone fell silent, glaring at the youth. In the chilling atmosphere, the sobering youth’s face drained pale.
Then, from behind, someone shattered the silence with a sharp cry at him.
“Devil worshiper!”