Ep. 12 - Molting
Sunlight streamed through the window. A soft voice rang in his ears. The sensation of his dormant senses slowly returning felt like rising to the surface from underwater.
"...You're awake, aren't you? Master...?"
"...Ah. Thank goodness."
When Lilia's smile reflected in his eyes once more, the first words out of his mouth were ones of relief. Because he knew his final choice hadn't been wrong.
"You made it, Lilia."
"Because you foolishly brought me back to life."
You... It was the first time she'd called him that since becoming his familiar. Normally, he'd have snapped at her for it, but for some reason, it sounded good now.
"You saved me too. I just returned the favor once."
"Last time, you said you'd survive to the end no matter what."
"Yeah. I did say that..."
As she said, he'd sworn to survive no matter if the world ended or whatever else came. That was why he'd built up his power in the first place.
"But I don't even know why I did it."
He'd just wanted to. Rather than rational judgment, his body had moved first. He'd used regression for her without a moment's hesitation.
"But you brought me back too. You didn't have to."
When a demon's master dies, the demon is freed. Most people think demons die with their masters, but if that were true, when that guy who subjugated 72 out of the 92 demons died in the past, almost all the demons would have perished too.
"You were free."
What's more, he'd died exactly twice. And twice, by her hand, he'd been revived.
"That's true. But I'm like you, Master. I just did it without thinking."
There wasn't a hint of falsehood in her eyes. He could tell it was absolute truth—no need for Insight to confirm it.
"...Thanks."
"Pardon?"
"For saving me in the end."
Life after possession had always been lonely. Even his family had turned their backs on him. Under the same circumstances, they would have abandoned him without hesitation. But the one who'd chosen him wasn't family or friends—it was Lilia.
She, whom he'd thought could never stand by his side, had somehow become his greatest pillar of support.
"Thank you too. For helping me."
"It was only natural."
He said it without hesitation, and silence settled in. It should have felt perfectly natural, but for some reason, an awkwardness hung between them now. Was it because his consciousness had just returned, making conversation feel unfamiliar after so long?
"By the way, you're not in spirit form anymore?"
"I had no choice while trying to save you, Master."
"...Ah, did anyone else notice?"
"Probably the 8th Circle mage, the saintess... and your swordsmanship instructor."
".........Huh?"
Lilia said it lightly, but this was no light matter.
If those three saw Lilia directly, there's no way they wouldn't know she's a demon.
Demons. The root of all evil and calamity from genesis to the present. Officially, the last sighting of a demon was long ago, but the terror they inspired wasn't to be taken lightly. Even demon worshipers were executed on the spot without hesitation.
"...You okay? Lilia."
"Yeah. They didn't do anything. They just asked a few questions about you. I didn't answer much, though."
"That's a relief, at least..."
Were they targeting him now, judging him connected to a demon? The thought crossed his mind, but it didn't make sense. Not just because they'd revived him.
[Trait: Pure White Heart is continuously healing your body]
The Pure White Heart. A mythical ancient relic with truly infinite potential. Every faction—from the church to mages to nobles—had vied to claim it. And now, it beat inside him.
There's no way something that hostile would give wings to an enemy.
No matter how he thought about it, they didn't seem antagonistic toward him. But then, letting Lilia—a demon—go unchecked didn't make sense either. Normally, if a demon were exposed, the church and even the imperial family would mobilize massive forces.
"Why don't you stop worrying about that for now?"
Had his expression looked that bad? Before he knew it, Lilia had naturally pulled his head to her chest.
"Recovery comes first right now. Rest well."
Normally, he'd have pushed her away without hesitation, but why? For some reason, he didn't feel like it at all.
"Yeah... you're right."
Even he had to admit his current body was a miracle just for being alive. It seemed they'd transplanted the Pure White Heart to revive him, but it had only barely clung to life. Naturally, his physical condition was a wreck.
A new window showing "Physical Activation Rate," which hadn't existed before. He knew what it meant the moment he saw it: the progress of complete reconstruction from the Pure White Heart. In simple terms, his body's condition. Only 8.4% now.
Still, that's pretty good, all things considered.
For someone who'd died and come back, this was decent. It wasn't a normal death—it was survival from total collapse.
"Yeah. Resting up sounds best..."
"Oh, um, can I ask one favor first?"
"Of course."
"Can I stop calling you Master now?"
"............Huh?"
He'd thought it would be nothing major, but it was so unexpected he froze.
Well... "Master" does draw a clear line between us.
Of course, with his revival, the hierarchy between them was clear on the surface. But that was superficial now. They were more like companions relying on each other than just lord and servant.
"Call me whatever's comfortable. I've always done the same."
"Thanks."
"You want to change the title but keep the formal speech?"
It seemed contradictory, but whatever—it was her choice. He wouldn't make a big deal of it. A bit disorienting, sure.
"Well... I'll get used to it. Do what feels right."
"Right."
He nodded at her words and slowly turned his gaze to the window. Students eating lunch in groups outside, others training. The usual lunchtime scene at the academy drew an unwitting chuckle from him.
So peaceful.
Was this really a world plagued by countless calamities? The thought that countless lives hung behind this peace was sobering.
"Half a year already."
Half a year since enrolling at the academy. Half a year since breaking the curse. Midterms and finals done—only vacation left.
...Time to head home.
The time to return to that hellish place was approaching.
Back to the land filled with scorn, contempt, and persecution.
"Sigh..."
He suddenly craved a cigarette he hadn't touched in ages. But it wouldn't be like before, when he'd endured powerlessly. He'd completely molted since then.
"For now..."
"Hm?"
"For now, rest up and recover."
This time had been especially grueling. He wouldn't miss this chance. Home meant hellish days ahead.
The Vergilius family blood ran deep blue. The unrivaled prestige of magic was deemed noble in the empire by that deep blue hue. And extreme cold rationality and mercilessness drew blood.
Thus, the Vergilius prestige in the empire was never low.
And in the iron-blooded land of Vergilius, at the heart of the "palace" throne, sat a middle-aged man.
"Summer will end soon. That failure returns at last. Yes. Is it still alive?"
"...Yes. It seems the youngest young master took first place overall among all first-years at the academy."
"First place overall among first-years? That thing?"
There were no thorns in the man's words. Just pure surprise. The sole, hideous blemish that had always disappointed him had taken overall first at the academy every noble passed through.
It filled the man with immense bewilderment and astonishment.
"Yes... first place. Higher scores than those above me."
Vergilius produced excellence, but not first in everything. Prestige only in magic. Thus, overall first at the academy meant more than it seemed.
"That makes me look forward to it for the first time."
The man lifted his teacup and murmured casually.
"Dante... Vergilius."
The family's—and his—sole remaining stain.
I'll be waiting personally for you.
Until Dante returned home.