Chapter 404
Chapter 404
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 404
Chapter Title: Overlook (3)
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1.
Eloa Tiphereth.
Actually, even before regaining his memories, Si-woo had often felt a strange sense of incongruity.
Like showing up in light clothing—mostly pajamas—unlike before.
Or not suggesting the late-night feasts they had enjoyed together almost every day...
Most of it boiled down to one thing: Eloa was strangely avoiding Si-woo.
Looking back, even the minor signs he'd brushed off as nothing had been foreshadowing.
All of it stemmed from Eloa's resolve to draw a line—to reject even the tiniest temptation.
In the Memory Palace, Si-woo could confirm it.
Eloa, who had come to love Si-woo as a man.
And Eloa, who loved Si-woo as her disciple.
He saw the guilt she felt after their bodies intertwined, and the decision she made because of it.
Of course, Si-woo didn't hold teacher-disciple ethics as rigidly as Duke Tiphereth did.
In less uptight eras, weren't there plenty of tales about romance between master and student?
So fully grasping the depth of her guilt and sense of responsibility was beyond him.
But erasing the memory of sharing love with someone dear?
For instance, wiping Sharon's or the twins' memories to become total strangers—what a profound decision, what self-sacrifice. That much, he understood intimately.
"Master, I'm back..."
Sensing a stern scolding at first glance, Si-woo offered an awkward greeting.
"Tiphereth Duke... Oh my..."
Albireo, beaming to welcome the duke, suddenly covered her mouth in shock.
-Smack!
The moment she spotted Si-woo, Eloa strode over and slapped his cheek.
It didn't hurt much—just a sharp sting.
And then she hugged him tight.
"I... have a social gathering to attend..."
Witnessing the passionate master-disciple reunion, Albireo quietly rose and slipped out of the office.
"M-Master... Can't breathe..."
"Stay still."
Eloa was dressed in combat gear, as if she'd just returned from the present world.
Her cherry-blossom hair tied back tightly, she clutched Si-woo like she'd never let go.
If he'd been a teddy bear, the stuffing would have burst out.
While Si-woo flailed limply without support, Eloa had chased Ea around Hong Kong for days over a single photo.
Brooding over emotions she'd thought forgotten, nursing anger and vengeance.
In the end, Deneb and Sharon—realizing something was wrong—had nearly died pulling Si-woo from the sea. Even as he recovered, she hadn't realized her beloved disciple was in such peril.
Another repeat of the same mistake.
She'd nearly lost yet another precious disciple.
Hugging Si-woo—who towered a head above her—with all her might.
Her slender frame, fragile as a waterfowl despite her prowess, trembled violently.
A quiet sob swelled, soon heaving her shoulders as she soaked Si-woo's collar with tears.
"Sorry..."
"No, it's my fault too..."
"Sorry..."
Avenge Rafi—it was vital.
If Ea lived, Eloa wouldn't hesitate to grasp the Sword of Asura once more.
But right here, right now, Si-woo was with her.
Eloa Tiphereth's beloved disciple, Shin Si-woo.
2.
A bit calmed, Eloa and Si-woo stepped into the garden.
Conifers blanketed in light snow from the midnight flurry.
They strolled together after so long, tapping icicles dangling like tiny bulbs from sharp leaf tips.
In the garden now steeped in full winter, Si-woo learned why Eloa couldn't rush to his aid.
That vicious Bianca had apparently used Ea as bait to lure her away.
And it dovetailed neatly with the topic Si-woo meant to raise.
"Master, I have something to tell you."
"Speak freely."
In the Memory Palace, he'd understood Eloa's love.
But right now, something arguably even more crucial loomed.
Ea Sadal Melik—the witch who'd killed Eloa's apprentice.
The truth that she, stripped of her magic by Si-woo, still lived.
"Before I regained consciousness this time, I peered into the memories."
The word "memories" made Eloa's shoulders twitch.
Hands clasped lightly behind her back, she'd been crunching over the thin snow—now she halted dead.
"Memories...?"
Her upward gaze at Si-woo held none of its usual stern benevolence.
Worried.
Hoping.
Disappointed in herself for hoping.
Quietly swallowing fervent longing.
Those moist magenta eyes overlapped perfectly with her memory self.
She must have always watched him like this, from the shadows.
"Ea Sadal Melik might still be alive."
Her expression shifted swiftly.
But no surge of rage like Si-woo expected.
"What makes you think so?"
Composed eyes heard his report, nodding coolly.
He'd braced for an outburst—her unflappable calm surprised him.
"Did you... know?"
"I suspected as much."
A sigh trailed her words as she nodded acceptance.
Shocking.
Her demeanor softer now than at first, yet Si-woo recalled her fury-twisted glare as she punched his liver.
"Why stare like that?"
"You're too calm, um..."
"With you—who nearly died—right here. What matters revenge now?"
Eloa smiled it off lightly, but her eyes ran deeper than usual—Si-woo could tell.
She'd returned because he was in peril; no fuss outwardly, but turmoil within.
Truth be told, he'd planned to mention her sealed memories resurfacing today.
The love they'd shared. Her confession.
But say it and then what?
Si-woo already had the twins, Sharon.
Not to mention his messy entanglements with other women.
Yet leaving her to suffer alone—right?
"Master, you're chilled. Shall we head in?"
"Yes."
"I'll pour you a drink—it's been ages."
"Couldn't ask for better."
But broaching it amid this thickening tension felt impossible.
As he pondered warming their feet by the fireplace over drinks...
Eloa asked hesitantly.
"Si-woo."
"Yes."
"Any... other memories come back?"
She regretted the words instantly.
Clinging to futile hopes, perhaps.
"...Master, let's talk inside first."
"......"
That might suffice as reply.
Joy? Sorrow? Something in between?
Her crumbling expression hinted at her ordeals—making her all the more pitiable.
Eloa's face flushed pink as her hair.
3.
Silent awkwardness filled the return to the parlor.
Si-woo poured for Eloa by the fireplace.
Her lap-blanket fidgeting screamed urge to hide.
"Forgive me speaking first?"
"Of course."
He sat diagonally opposite, thawing frozen feet by the flames.
"First—sorry. I promised proper responsibility, yet fled by erasing memories. Utterly irresponsible."
Words flowed smoothly, mulled en route.
Her face told otherwise: scorching red without touch, hands twisting the blanket ceaselessly.
"But please understand—as I said before... I love you. Yet as your master, I couldn't drag you into my failings."
Eloa's hands stilled.
Veins faint under pale skin.
Tears plopped atop.
"Can you forgive me?"
Understand?
How could he not.
He barely grasped grounds for forgiveness even.
Her care shone in every glance.
Countless gifts, gratis.
Si-woo rose.
"Master."
Unsure if worthy.
Brief hesitation—then he spread arms, drawing her gently close.
Her small, plush form tumbled into his embrace.
"...What a wretched master I am..."
Her voice thick, choked.
Si-woo cupped her dainty nape tenderly.
"Flirting with my disciple wasn't enough—I erased memories from fear of responsibility..."
Gone was stern poise; she burrowed into him like a spoiled child.
"Shedding tears of joy from just your embrace..."
"No—I should've noticed sooner..."
No one led.
This moment's instinct synced them naturally.
Mid-embrace, Eloa's lips tentatively met his.
Her long-missed breath—ripe peach, fruity sweet.
Matched memory habits perfectly.
The firm collar-grasp of tentative hands.
Lips nipping his lower gently.
Long lashes quivering from tension.
All identical.
His tongue tip slipped between yielding lips.
Eloa startled awake, jerking back.
Yet...
"Mmm... Chup..."
Si-woo's arms locked her firm.
Bold lips crashed; tongue delved deep.
She shuddered like a tranquilized doe—then yielded to the kiss, cherished and missed.
Not from scent.
Not suspicious elixir.
Simply—he wanted this.
Moments later.
Lips parted amid quickened breaths.
Eloa's shaken gaze met his unflinching eyes.
"Master."
"......"
"I'm fine. Thrilled, even, for this bond with you."
To her torn between joy and sorrow.
To her who'd hoarded half-memories in solitary torment.
"I'm no prize either... And frankly, my romantic tangles are a mess."
"......"
"But like you hold me dear, I treasure you too."
Si-woo no silver tongue.
No slick persuasion ploy.
Just raw, honest truth—shameless or not.
"So no running this time. Stay with me."
"......"
"I'll bear responsibility my way."
Eloa blanked, frozen.
Her stare—solely on him—rippled like stirred water.
Hands veiled her face; head bowed.
"Master?"
"Sorry..."
His words met apology.
Not enough to sway her code?
Disheartenment crept in.
"Too... happy... Can't tell what face to make... Or what I'm making..."
Through parted fingers, her smile gleamed.
Tears held back—bliss incarnate.
The most beautiful expression Si-woo had ever seen on her.