105. You Shouldn't Be Doing That
105. You Shouldn't Be Doing That
The mess area at the excavation site handled meal preparations for the laborers and soldiers.
Under normal circumstances, outsiders were strictly forbidden from entering to prevent food contamination. But today, the person in charge had made an exception for a certain bard.
She'd spent the past month wandering the excavation site, lifting the spirits of its members, and the cooks were among those who'd drawn strength from her songs.
"Thank you so much for accommodating such an unreasonable request."
"Not at all, think nothing of it. I hope it makes a wonderful gift for that special someone."
Around lunchtime, Marilyn said her goodbyes to the staff member who'd helped her and stepped outside.
The bag cradled in her arms was stuffed full of bread she'd baked herself, having borrowed the kitchen early that morning.
The professionals had already vouched for its taste and texture.
All that remained was to give it to the person who occupied her heart.
"Hehe, better get this to him before it gets cold~"
Of course, it would be a lie to say she wasn't anxious.
For demons, faithful only to their own desires, appetite was generally considered something you satisfied just by filling your stomach—unless you'd deliberately cultivated that particular desire as a central focus.
She'd tried to understand this culture of 'gourmet food' to blend in while living undercover, but even that had only been a shallow effort to avoid standing out. She'd never truly enjoyed it.
'Is this really okay?'
And now she, of all people, had made a homemade snack for the very first time.
She'd once heard that humans sometimes gave each other sweets like chocolate or candy to express their feelings.
If she wanted to convey her feelings for him, she'd figured doing something like this once in a while wouldn't be so bad.
'Maybe I should just make something more proper now...'
But now that the moment had actually arrived, anxiety crept in, and her steps toward him wavered with hesitation.
Was it really okay for her first overture to be something this crude? Wouldn't it be better to take a little more time and give him something of better quality?
'...No, this should be fine for now.'
Even that inner conflict turned out to be brief.
Marilyn soon cast aside her worries and tried to move her halted feet again, determined to be true to the surging emotions inside her.
Dragging things out just so everything could be perfect from the start would only mean fewer chances to be with him.
As long as he didn't push her away, she could use those opportunities to close the distance between them, little by little.
'Yeah, it's okay to be clumsy the first time.'
What mattered more than the first time was being there together for the last.
The demon who'd resolved to cast aside her impatience with that conviction clutched the bag of bread to her chest and felt her heart pound.
'If I keep moving forward step by step, then surely I'll be able to stand by his side in the end.'
Quietly, yet distinctly.
Simply feeling that heartbeat forced her to confront her own emotions. She buried her reddening face in the bag and quickened her pace.
Praying with all her might that this gift would help strengthen their bond.
****
...Right.
She had definitely come here with that heart.
-Squelch!
But when she actually reached the spot he was using as a training ground, what greeted Marilyn was a ferocious rampage she'd never imagined seeing from him.
Or rather, as if some terrible incident had already taken place before she'd arrived, the walls and floor of the space he occupied were completely splintered and torn apart.
-Squelch! Squelch!!
Even after all that rampaging, he apparently couldn't suppress his emotions. He kept raising his spear and bringing it down, over and over, onto a corpse on the ground.
The ominous magical power emanating from the corpse told her it had been one of those dead who refused death and rose again.
"I'm, sorry."
In between, a faint voice reached her ears.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so......"
As if in a daze, his body already long drenched in putrid blood, he repeated the same words.
Yet he paid no mind to his own state and kept lifting the spear lodged in the corpse.
"Hyosung. Why on earth...?"
She had no idea what was going on.
But it had to be something serious.
"Because I was too weak!!"
The moment she instinctively tried to approach, a shout burst out.
And finally, he threw aside his spear and his knees buckled miserably before the mangled corpse.
"If I... were stronger, you wouldn't have had to push yourself so hard. I'm sorry, I'm sorry......"
-Rustle.
The bag dropped to the ground, its contents spilling out and becoming soiled on the dirt floor.
That food, made in the hopes he would sincerely enjoy it—made after she'd overcome her initial anxiety.
Even as it fell, the very thing she'd clutched to her chest worrying it might get cold—Marilyn couldn't even think to pick it up.
She could only stare at him before her, feeling the turmoil rising within her heart.
'Why on earth...'
Ironically, she didn't know what exactly had happened here.
The only reason she'd followed him this far was simply because she wanted to be with him just a little longer.
Even if they were a bit apart, as long as they could share a meal, that was enough for her. She hadn't interfered deeply in his circumstances.
'What on earth, is this...?'
But at the end of that path, faced with this reality, Marilyn felt an unfamiliar emotion she had never experienced before prodding fiercely at her chest.
'Why... am I feeling this?'
Wasn't it strange?
Someone else's anguish was supposed to be a good opportunity to close the distance.
A demon, selfish from birth, would normally be thinking of ways to seduce him regardless of his situation.
Then why, in this moment, was she afraid to approach him?
'I... don't know what to do.'
She'd steadily built up her understanding of humans since arriving in this world, and she rationally understood that the standard response here was to go up and comfort him.
But her heart wasn't following suit.
If someone like her, who'd never been sincere for anyone else's sake, tried to comfort him here, it would undoubtedly be an act of pretense.
If pretense got mixed into the sincerity she felt for him, then maybe it could no longer be called love.
'Hyosung is suffering, and I don't know what to do.'
Even as she was gripped by that inner turmoil, she couldn't just abandon him. But her vacant, helpless staring lasted only a moment.
"...Hyosung."
Soon, someone approached from behind, passed right by her side, and began walking toward him.
Airi Heven. Her rival in love, and the woman who had become his first.
"Hyosung, please look this way."
Yes. If it were her, she would have expected him to break down like this.
So she could at least do that much—encourage him on her behalf.
In place of someone like herself, who'd lived her whole life not knowing how to comfort others, she would sympathize with his pain and give him the strength to stand up again.
"...Airi."
"Pull yourself together. From now on, I will lead your training in the Elder's stead."
But what actually came from her mouth was nothing more than a cold, callous urging of his mission.
Realizing none of the consideration she'd expected was anywhere to be found, Marilyn's eyes hardened as she glared at her.
"We'll resume training soon, so please get up."
She'd sensed something was off ever since they'd entered this garrison zone.
Unlike herself, who actively spent time with him whenever she got the chance, Airi often disappeared, claiming she had things to do.
She'd considered it fine as long as it didn't interfere with him, so she'd paid it no mind. But if that attitude extended to her beloved, the situation changed.
"Ah, yes. It's, not over, yet. Since you... must have spoken with the Elder. Yes."
And he didn't reject those words.
Even after committing an act that desecrated his master's death, he was still readying himself to accept what lay beyond.
"What... do I have to do?"
But his complexion was still dark, and his body seemed drained of all stamina, to the point where even the hands he lifted were trembling violently.
His steps were shaking so badly he could barely manage a few more. If he went on like this, he might break down irreparably.
"That is..."
"Wait."
Unable to watch any longer, Marilyn finally parted her stiff lips and cut in between them.
Her steps crushed the bread underfoot, but she didn't care.
Because right now, something far more important than that was at stake.
"What on earth are the two of you saying?"
"...Marilyn."
"Airi, Hyosung is clearly suffering right now."
She'd never imagined such words would leave her own mouth.
Someone else's suffering—wasn't that something a selfish demon would never, ever say?
"And yet you talk of training. There's something you should do before that."
But even if this too was a foreign feeling, Marilyn didn't try to suppress it.
For a demon, love itself was an alien emotion to begin with.
Perhaps that alien emotion had, in turn, cultivated in her what humans call 'sympathy.'
Even if it was a wrong emotion for a demon, if it too served to prove her love, then she should accept it boldly.
"Hyosung is... suffering..."
She just didn't know how to reach him in this situation because she was feeling this way for the first time.
But she had thought a human who'd bonded with him before herself would surely be able to understand his pain and offer him sincere comfort.
"...And so?"
But what came back to meet that expectation was a chillingly indifferent reply, like a dagger.
"'And so'...?"
"This was always part of the plan from the beginning."
Yes, she had already foreseen this future.
Jang Cleo knew he would die today and calmly headed to the training grounds. Even with his aged body, he chose to use his own corpse as a tool to fulfill the 'final condition' to become a hero.
"And from now on, he'll have to face even greater hardships. What Hyosung is striving toward is something he can't grasp unless he endures all of that."
Even so, she had respected him and steeled her heart.
Because she wanted to carry on that will, Airi was now trying to set her partner upright when he was about to collapse on this very spot.
"Hyosung must become a hero. For his own sake, and furthermore, for the sake of everyone who has helped him."
If she had to kill her own heart for that, then so be it.
Even if it hurt her partner—if he couldn't overcome that pain and stand back up, he wouldn't be able to endure the future to come.
"...Don't give me that bullshit."
Even while understanding that logically, Marilyn ultimately could not bring herself to respect the person standing before her.
"Marilyn."
"Is being a hero really that important? Something like a world that an individual might possibly save—is that more important to you than the pain your loved one is feeling right now?"
Hadn't she given up on being his first, fearing she might lose control and break him?
Yet the rival she'd trusted to take that place instead was now trying to inflict wounds on him.
"Even if that is so important, you could at least offer him some comfort. You know that better than I do."
That sense of betrayal mingled with her sympathy for him. It began tearing through her heart like a stake hammered in after a dagger was already lodged there.
Even as she felt the rims of her eyes redden from that anguish, she couldn't hold back her emotions and lashed out with resentment at that woman.
"I don't know about anyone else, but you..."
"You're the one who shouldn't be doing that! Am I wrong!?"
A resentful scream she let out for the first time in her life.
Faced with that, Airi's expression crumpled. She soon averted her gaze, her clenched fist trembling.
That alone revealed that this forced course of action was not something she wanted either.
"Marilyn."
Yet, as if understanding there must be a reason she still had to act this way, he did not voice any resentment. Instead, he approached the one worrying about him.
"I'm okay. I'm fine, really."
"Hyosung. But..."
"I was just... a little confused. If the Elder had already resolved himself, then I should respect that choice too."
A voice hoarse from wailing, and torn flesh on his cheeks.
Yet as if trying not to cause her worry, a forced smile was drawn across his face.
'Hyosung, no.'
A false smile to hide his true feelings.
Marilyn was someone who had worn that smile countless times herself.
'Suffering is something you get used to. You can never be truly okay with it. If you just endure, you only break apart more.'
Maybe she felt this sympathy precisely because she understood that pain. But even so, Marilyn could no longer bring herself to say anything to him.
Even if it was painful, she loved him.
And because she loved him, she must not stand in the way of the path he chose to walk.
"...Airi. Please tell me what I have to do."
Airi, who had been staring vacantly at Marilyn, now averted her gaze. She unclenched her bitten lip and, directing her eyes toward the spear on the ground, spoke.
"Pick up... the spear."
The starting point of this conflict, the cause of all the training so far, and the weapon that would be the strength to face the future ahead.
Once he silently took it in his hand, Airi, standing before him, began gathering power into the crystal orb she held.
"From now on, using the power I possess, I will project the memories of the soul within this spear onto you, Hyosung."
"Project...?"
"Tasian Failoy... You will experience the life of the woman once called a hero, and make her power completely your own."
Yes, every shred of training up until now had merely been 'preparation' solely for this.
By building up a similar foundation, they aimed to raise the probability of success for the memory projection, even by a little.
"...So brace yourself, Hyosung. From here on out."
And what was to follow was something that even she, a prophet, could not guarantee the outcome of.
Yet, believing it had to be done, Airi spoke in a grave voice, as if re-emphasizing her warning to him.
"Because experiencing someone else's life... could very easily lead to the extinction of your own personality."
She emphasized that the danger—the complete erasure of the individual named Woo Hyosung from this world—was soon to befall him.
A risk essentially no different from death itself.