Chapter 187
Chapter 187
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 187
Chapter Title: Echoes of Dia
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Nihil chewed on the meatball skewers the merchant lord had brought him while idly watching the nobles.
Someone had invested somewhere and gone bankrupt, the third daughter of some count's family was getting engaged soon, the kid was throwing a tantrum demanding an expensive magic toy...
'Hmm...'
As he eavesdropped on snippets of information here and there, Nihil started to grow a little worried.
He'd heard that reservations for magic tools were already booked solid through the second half of the year. It seemed his side hustle had ballooned a bit too much.
'Can't let it distract from the main gig.'
Of course, his main gig was seaweed farming. Lately, it seemed to be growing nicely, which secretly filled Nihil with pride.
As he munched the last meatball off the skewer, a plate was suddenly thrust toward him. This time, it was a meat pie.
Nihil glanced up at Karus, who was grinning from ear to ear, and took the plate.
Since the kid had begged for more meat, everything he'd brought so far had been meat-heavy, which was delicious but left Nihil craving dessert now.
Hmm, yeah. Something like... a strawberry cake without any strawberries. A truly awful one.
"Grand Duke Lepne has arrived!"
But no such cake existed anyway, and the chance to indulge in dessert vanished with the dramatic entrance of the capricious demon.
Mana churned slightly, warping space to open a passageway. Nihil had expected him to be skilled, but he was even stronger than anticipated.
'In my current state, I'd be lucky to walk away with my bones intact if I picked a fight.'
Soon, a man emerged from the rift, accompanied by an overwhelming wave of demonic energy.
Thud.
The meat pie slipped off the plate.
"My friend, where are you off to?"
Nihil instinctively stepped forward at the familiar profile, only to freeze as Karus grabbed his wrist.
Karus gestured to a waiting servant to clean the floor, then scooped Nihil into his arms. Pressing close, he whispered just loud enough for the wind to carry his words.
"If you cause trouble, won't your demon big bro give you a spanking?"
"......"
Who exactly the demon big bro would spank—himself or the teacher—remained to be seen.
Nihil swallowed his retort, pushing Karus's face away firmly while shifting his gaze back to the man. His heartbeat quickened.
'...Dia.'
He barely suppressed the urge to call out.
Of course, his little one had brown hair, not black; ordinary brown eyes, not heterochromatic; and neatly trimmed short hair, not that wild, unkempt mane.
And he wasn't a demon.
Right, even if Dia had transcended humanity, he was no demon. And this man was unmistakably one.
'But... it's the same soul, without a doubt.'
Nihil's violet eyes widened in shock before he quickly composed himself.
Had he already ended his previous life and reincarnated?
If so, that would be a relief, but those guys wouldn't let a child who escaped karma slip away so easily.
What on earth had happened in the meantime?
Nihil tamped down the rising anxiety and twisted in Karus's arms to break free. But a pleading whisper made him halt.
"My friend, you promised not to cause any trouble. If something happens, His Highness will surely worry."
"......"
Right, he couldn't worry the kid. A guardian's anxiety transfers straight to the child, harming their emotional development. Guardians must remain a positive pillar for the child to lean on without worry...
Nihil recalled a parenting book he'd read once and took a small breath. His mind cooled.
Yes, even if that demon was indeed the boy, charging after him rashly wouldn't be right.
Forgetfulness might already dominate him, or five centuries might have naturally erased the memories anyway.
'Traitor.'
The little one's tearful voice—now a fragment of a memory too ancient—flashed through his mind.
'Why are you crying?'
The little one, sent to the village on an errand to interact with humans, returned sniffling.
'Sniff, Traitor.'
'Did someone hurt you?'
But the response was utterly unexpected.
'A wrinkly human scolded me for being rude.'
'...?'
I couldn't make sense of it, but I quickly pulled the sniffling child into my arms and kissed his teary eyes.
'Don't cry.'
The child continued mumbling.
'I spoke clearly, word for word.'
'Really.'
'He told me to bring potatoes.'
'...?'
My head tilted slightly. Just as confusion set in, the child looked up at me with eyes brimming with tears and continued.
'Sniff, sniff. Did I maybe mispronounce it?'
'...'
From that day, I decided to change my manner of speech.
But problems kept cropping up soon after.
My little one lagged behind his peers in pronunciation, vocabulary, and physical abilities.
Realizing it stemmed from my own excessive silence and constant coddling came as quite a shock.
After that, I sought out books on child-rearing and studied them.
Of course, it wasn't smooth from the start. I didn't begin weaning a five-year-old until much later.
'Traitor, sir, what's my name? The kids said "little one" isn't a name.'
The child, back from a village errand after a long while, asked about his name.
But the books said nothing about giving a name, leaving me flustered.
'All the kids in the village had names.'
I looked up the dictionary definition of a name.
-A word attached to people, objects, phenomena, etc., to distinguish them from others...
Yet I tilted my head again. Wasn't "little one" already distinct enough from everything else?
There was only the "little one" by my side, after all.
But I changed my thinking. I now knew I couldn't impose my standards on the child. Humans were social creatures, and the little one would eventually have to live among them.
So I gave him the word I cherished most.
'Dios? Is that my name now?'
The child spent days repeating his new name, committing it to memory.
A few days later, he asked again.
'Then what's your name, Traitor sir?'
His speech had already grown a bit more natural. Interacting with peers had helped, as expected.
But I had no name, so I shook my head. Or more precisely, my name had to remain "empty."
It needed to accommodate anything.
Unaware of this, the child—no, Dios—thought I was withholding it on purpose and sulked, barricading himself in a fort made of blankets.
To coax out the pouting Dios, I pondered a temporary name. Unsure of naming conventions, I consulted a human with ample experience.
'Names? Just slap something on 'em. This one's black as night, so Blackie. That one's yellow, so Yellow. Oh, this barker gets Barky.'
I nodded at the wrinkly-faced human's words. It seemed names matched traits.
So I chose the emotion I felt most often.
'Nihil? What does it mean?'
'Emptiness.'
When I explained, the child's eager face crumpled.
'I don't like that. If there's no other, I'll make up a pretty one for you.'
The little thing rummaged through a dictionary as big as himself, determined to name me.
'Read this one.'
Having never properly taught letters, reading fell to me.
'Requies.'
'What does it mean?'
'Sanctuary.'
'Perfect!'
It even sounds cool! And so, I acquired a "name."
But the hard-won name rang hollow since only the child was by my side, making him its sole caller.
'Requies sir, give me a nickname too.'
'Dios, isn't your name enough?'
'Families and close friends use nicknames.'
Dios picked up all sorts of odd human habits from his interactions, and I adapted to match.
Human lifespans weren't that long, so it wasn't hard.
'Sniff, Requies sir, they say this is girl's clothing. Boys don't wear this.'
I'd once bought the fanciest, flashiest outfit and made him cry, but I adapted to human society quickly.
'I wish my hair grew faster.'
One day, while trimming the ends of Dia's hair as usual, he said that.
'Why is that?'
'Because I like when you touch my hair, Requies sir!'
With that, the child combed my hair even more diligently.
'Requies sir.'
One day, the child approached hesitantly, holding out a white dough topped with red berries, glancing at me nervously.
'I made this strawberry cake. No strawberries, but... you don't celebrate birthdays or anything, Requies sir...'
Perhaps that cake was a subtle protest to celebrate his own birthday too. Even that delighted me.
'Requies' felt joy and satisfaction watching the child grow by the day.
[O Traitor, fulfill your duty.]
And anxiety in equal measure.
'Can I call you Father?'
'Do as you like.'
'You'll stay with me forever, right?'
'...'
[O Traitor, your duty...]
'Huh?'
'...Yes, I will, Dia.'
For the touch of those small hands combing diligently, for the taste of strawberryless strawberry cake. I rejected 'forgetfulness' for the first time.
Nihil gazed down at the scrap of cloth in his hand. More precisely, a piece of the puppy's cape.
'...How nostalgic.'
A sneer tugged at his lips. Nihil unconsciously folded Sir Evan's cape fragment repeatedly.
"Look at it all pretty-like."
The sneer turned to a smile then. The innocent kitten, the puppy burying his flushed face in his paws up to his ears, and the teacher poking the puppy's side teasingly—they were all hilarious.
'So peaceful.'
Yes, just knowing the child was alive like this was enough. He'd been through this several times before. It would be fine.
Time would dull the pain.
It might take longer than with the others since they'd spent more time together, but it would be fine.
Nihil tucked away the cape scrap he'd been picking at unconsciously. Then he noticed something hard in his pocket.
A music box.
He'd made it thinking of a simple funeral... but now it was useless.
"...The sheet music... no, never mind. I'm heading back now."
Just then, the child showed interest in the score. He didn't remember, but maybe he liked the lullaby.
'Music box... should I give it to him?'
But what if his selfish whim caused unintended side effects? If the child harbored hostility here, the fate of the banquet hall—no, the kingdom—could change.
'Maybe ask Rian to deliver it...'
Then mana surged violently, opening a portal. The child had cast it.
'Too late to pass it on.'
He resignedly watched the child vanish into the portal. The long, trailing hair swept the floor behind him.
His little one always had short hair...
'Dia, isn't it time you handled your own hair?'
'I don't know how.'
'That's not what I meant. Do you really need to wait for me to cut it, even if it's inconvenient?'
'Father, don't neglect me.'
'...I'm sorry.'
The gentle child who stayed by his side amid the flailing loss, pulling him back to reality.
'If you don't want to see me sweeping the floor with my hair, you'd better snap out of it.'
No way.
A memory flickered and faded, jolting his heart like a drop.
No, it couldn't be. Just coincidence.
But Nihil's body moved against reason, lunging forward.
He barely yanked the black locks just as they disappeared into the portal. It was already too late to turn back.
'Too impulsive—!'
Regret flooded him for his thoughtless action,
when
Stab!
"Guh...!"
Something pierced straight through his body.