8. Curse Plague (End)
8. Curse Plague (End)
While Yurakne went inside to check on Ella's condition, the rest of the troupe stood waiting in front of the wagon.
Exhaustion clung to all of them, but their faces were unmistakably bright.
Even Umon, lying in the iron cage, had roused himself and was chattering away in an excited voice.
Their elation wasn't simply because Ella had woken up.
Knowing the real reason, I kept my distance, lingering out of their sight.
The weight of their gazes was too heavy.
That they were aware I had saved them was one thing.
Seeing every troupe member's Affection level rise in unison had left me quietly proud.
But as they watched me step down from the wagon, their eyes held something beyond gratitude.
Awe. Expectation. And hope.
From the cautious, roundabout questions they asked, I could tell Valentina had already informed them that I had cured the Curse Plague.
"Is it true?"
"The Troupe Leader...?"
"The Curse Plague...?"
Faced with their trembling eyes, I couldn't form any reply.
I had a good idea of what they were trying to ask.
"If so, then..."
"Could it be that our bodies, as well..."
"Could you heal us...?"
I barely managed to suppress the reflex to shake my head.
[Innate Traits cannot be altered.]
At a genetic level, they were inextricably bound to Devolut.
Not even the power of a BioMancer could change their bodies.
"Troupe Leader...?"
I had to deny them, but my lips wouldn't move.
I couldn't bring myself to trample on the hope they had barely managed to grasp.
In that moment, it was a relief when Yurakne stepped in.
"Let's discuss the details later! First, let's confirm our Deputy Leader is all right."
Once she invoked Ella's name, they relented and stepped back.
"Everyone, wait here. I'll see her first."
There was an odd calmness in Yurakne's demeanor.
She, too, was a victim of the Curse Plague.
She could have pressed me about the cure the moment I woke up, just as the others had. Yet she hadn't uttered a single word about it then, and even now she remained silent.
Why?
From inside the wagon, the low murmur of Ella and Yurakne's voices drifted out.
If I activated the Sound Room Function, I could eavesdrop on their conversation.
But I chose not to use it.
Having just weathered a major crisis, I couldn't afford to spend Devolut recklessly.
I wanted to keep as much in reserve as possible, just in case.
Beyond that, the mere act of opening the Status Window had lost its appeal.
This incident had driven home its side effects.
I sat down on a boulder a short distance from the wagon.
The chatter of the Ratmen from a nearby clearing reached my ears.
"The Deputy Leader! Lost her memory! I wager two strips of dried rat jerky!"
"Wrong! She'll be fine! I wager three strips of dried rat jerky!"
Ridiculously, they had taken bets on whether Ella's memory would be intact.
Those two truly have the easiest lot in this whole circus.
Come to think of it... those bastards eat rat meat?
Just then, the wagon door swung open, and Yurakne called the troupe over.
Worried that Ella might be disoriented, she asked them to approach one at a time.
I rose from my seat to go as well, but a white-haired girl approached from the opposite direction.
"Troupe Leader."
Maya stood before me, her face pale, clutching her cardigan tightly around herself.
I'd healed all her injuries, but the shock and fatigue of the battle hadn't simply vanished.
"Miss Maya, are you all right?"
"Yes. Thanks to you. And you, Troupe Leader?"
Her words were delivered in a brusque tone, but I could read the concern beneath her voice.
"I'm fine."
I watched as the troupe members approached Ella one by one.
She was talking with them, her expression bright and welcoming.
Fortunately, her memory didn't seem to have any major gaps.
"I'm sorry. My own greed put everyone in danger."
If things had gone badly wrong for her, I would have struggled to forgive myself.
She had thrown her life away for me.
And left behind words saying she had been happy beside me.
All the while, I'd concealed the truth and used her for my own ends...
But in every way, she had approached me with an almost naive sincerity.
Her hatred, her affection—all of it.
A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped me.
If anyone called me a demon leader who deceives people, I'd have no retort.
"It's not your fault, Troupe Leader."
I couldn't agree with the words Maya offered to console me.
"No. It is my fault."
I didn't know what she was thinking, but knowing the full truth, I could answer with conviction.
This entire mess was because of me.
Just before we hit the road, Valentina had completed her epidemiological analysis of the ruptured Abyss passage.
She concluded that rites directed at a Demon God accounted for more than half the cause.
A rite.
I recalled a phrase I'd once skimmed past in a book.
The term "rite" in reference to a Demon God covered every method of communicating with a Demon God.
The book said that a Madosa received commissions or rewards from a Demon God through a rite.
When I first read that line, a thought flickered through my mind and then faded.
'That sounds a lot like the Status Window.'
I received quests from the "System" through the Status Window, collected rewards from the System through it, and wielded the supernatural abilities the System granted through it.
If I swapped the word "System" with "Demon God," then "Status Window" effectively became synonymous with "rite."
I'd had a vague inkling about the entity that had given me the Status Window.
The biggest clue was the ordeal Ella had once suffered at the threshold of Affection level 15.
When her Affection level hit 15, Kirkeus had bestowed Inspira upon her. When it dipped to 14, he had ripped it away.
I'd grown suspicious then.
Why on earth would a blessing from a Demon God hinge on a single value—her Affection level toward me?
The answer left only one conclusion.
Behind what I called the System stood the Demon God Kirkeus.
The Status Window was, in effect, the Inspira he deigned to grant me.
Inspira—the blessing said to be bestowed as praise for a performer's displayed skill.
Unlike other Demon Gods' authorities, it was considered special, precisely because of its unpredictable, chaotic nature.
What kind of performance had I ever given?
Back then, I couldn't even go to the bathroom without help.
And yet, there was one skill I had possessed.
Playing games.
And among them, TTT stood above all others.
I had been a professional gaming YouTuber.
If a "performance" meant displaying a skill before a vast audience and receiving their cheers and applause, then I was more than qualified for Kirkeus's favor.
Didn't they say Inspira grants an ability suited to the skill each person has shown?
If so, receiving a Status Window pulled straight from a game was the Inspira most fitting for me.
Everything clicked into place.
But I hadn't taken it seriously.
After all, whether it was a "System" or "Kirkeus," the power ultimately derived from some transcendent being. Knowing its name wouldn't change anything—or so I'd assumed.
But I had failed to consider the side effects that a rite could carry.
Just the day before, I had "overloaded" the Status Window by subjugating Devolut.
I had also burned through thousands of Devoluts gained from that subjugation to reinforce my abilities.
If the Status Window functioned as a rite, then what I'd done was no different from conducting a rite on an immense scale.
That act of communing with Kirkeus had blown the passage to the Abyss wide open.
Using the Status Window weakens the barrier with the Abyss!
I had only ever spent small amounts of Devolut before, and always within city limits—that was the sole reason I'd never experienced the side effects until now.
The residents of Dvalchev had condemned me.
They said every last tragedy had befallen them because of me.
They hadn't been wrong.
The Curse Plague was tied to me. Driving the Fanatics into a frenzy was my doing. Tearing open the passage to the Abyss was my doing, too.
Beyond that, I was the reason my own troupe members had been born as monsters—and I was the one who now had to look them in the eye and say that while I could manipulate everything else, I could not fix their bodies.
The weight of ill deeds was staggering.
Now, the very act of deepening my bond with them felt like another layer of deceit.
And yet, even in the midst of this, the damn Smiling Man was still there, grinning.
"Troupe Leader, you don't need to blame yourself."
"Is that how I looked?"
I turned toward Maya and offered her a smile.
"I was just... a little worn down. Just that."
Maya's eyes trembled as she looked up at me.
At that moment, Yurakne called out to both of us.
"You two, come over here!"
Maya and I walked toward Ella.
The girl in the red tailcoat sat among the chattering troupe, grumbling loudly.
"I'm telling you, I'm perfectly fine! I remember everything! Why is everyone walking on eggshells?"
Her voice was as lively and spirited as ever.
Seeing her fully herself helped me shake off some of the gloom I'd been carrying.
We pushed through the gathered members and stepped forward.
Ella, who was perched at the wagon's entrance, spotted Maya and spoke in a distinctly unimpressed tone.
"Maya."
"Deputy Leader."
She gave Maya a long, sweeping look before murmuring,
"You're in one piece."
Maya's brow furrowed at her remark.
Before the two could clash again, I cut in swiftly.
"Miss Ella, Miss Maya fought elsewhere as well. Alone, at that."
At my words, Ella leaned back, peering up at me with a fixed stare.
Then she tilted her head to the side.
"And who are you?"
A chill swept through the group at that single line.
Every face went rigid.
Yurakne pressed a hand over her mouth, her eyes darting between me and Ella.
My own heart clenched tight.
She had seemed fine...
Don't tell me the memory loss had a selective effect, wiping away only the unhappy memories—erasing all recollection of Wonderstein entirely...?
"Deputy Leader, you can't mean..."
"Ella..."
"Miss Ella... your memory..."
Everyone stood there, barely managing to force out a few stammered words, when a whistling burst of air broke the silence.
"Pfft."
Ella's lips twitched.
She surveyed our faces one by one before doubling over, clutching her stomach as laughter erupted out of her.
"Bwhahahaha!"
She pounded the floor of the wagon and rolled back and forth.
We were all too dumbstruck to do anything but stand there, staring, while she caught her breath and wiped the tears from her eyes.
"H-how is everyone this gullible? Falling for something so obvious... really?"
The impish smile that surfaced on her lips made it clear—it had all been a prank.
Beside me, Maya swallowed an indignant groan.
Ella jabbed a finger at me and declared,
"How could I possibly not recognize that face?"
She pursed her lips, then snapped her arms across her chest with a grumble.
"Seriously. Even if I forgot everything else, how could I forget that demon? The way he works people like they're his personal slaves."
A disgruntled look.
An irritable tone.
It was her, just as she always was.
The troupe members exchanged glances and nodded among themselves.
Ella rubbed at her chest and muttered,
"That Reaper's Scythe—or whatever it was—wasn't such a big deal, was it? I think I've been hurt worse from a kitchen knife."
She leaned back against the wagon wall and idly swung her leg.
An inward sigh of relief escaped me.
My heart had nearly given out there at the end, but I was grateful her memory was intact. I couldn't verify her entire past, but at the very least, everything we'd shared together seemed to be there.
"Heh, it was thanks to a stroke of luck."
Apparently finding my smirk odious, she fixed me with a glare of pure displeasure.
Then she launched herself to her feet and strode over to me.
Right in front of me.
Close enough that our noses could nearly touch.
She looked up at me and spoke.
"What were you worried about? There's no way I'd fail to remember you."
"Of course not. I'm quite..."
Before I could finish, she suddenly thumped her forehead against my chest.
I froze in surprise, and as I moved to gently push her back, she murmured something.
"You're my very first audience, you know..."
Her voice carried none of the irritation from before.
Instead, it was saturated with warmth and a deep, abiding fondness.
"You're also the person I respect most after my master..."
"Miss Ella?"
A sudden surge of anxiety gripped me, and I caught her by the shoulders.
When she lifted her head, I faltered.
Her eyes, looking up into mine.
They were glistening with tears.
"More than anything..."
She wrapped her arms tight around my waist and pressed herself into my embrace.
The thought of resisting never crossed my mind; I simply accepted her hug as it was.
She nuzzled her cheek against my shirt and said,
"You're the person I love most in this whole world."
A sudden hush fell over everyone.
Shock registered on the troupe members' faces.
If my own face were capable of the expression, I'm sure I'd have looked the same.
Ella swiped at her tears with her hand and pushed me away.
"That just slipped out! So embarrassing! Ugh, what's wrong with me... What's so great about a villainous employer who exploits a maiden's innocent heart..."
Muttering to herself, she scrubbed furiously at her eyes.
Then she lifted her head, looked at me, and beamed brightly.
"Anyway, I'm glad you're safe, Troupe Leader."
None of us could even breathe. We stood there, rooted to the spot as if nailed in place.
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The Curse Plague (End)