The Evil God's Contract

'Charlotte really does have the makings of a swordsman.'

Since she's destined to become the protagonist's companion, it's only natural she'd excel in some particular field. If not academics, then physical ability it is. Charlotte was indeed much faster than Julia when they ran. Her build was also better suited for movement.

'Is she doing well?'

I tilted my head slightly toward the window and glanced out at the training grounds.

"Keep the hand gripping the sword heavy. Keep your feet light. Now, do you understand?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"Tsk. Why don't you get it? Just try it anyway."

"Hyah!"

"Tsk. Why can't you do it? Do you lack talent?"

The training seemed to be progressing smoothly. As expected of Silvia's setting, she possessed excellent skill as a knight. Though she had retired after injuring her heart and losing the ability to use mana, her fundamentals were outstanding—perfect for teaching Charlotte.

I didn't particularly want to imagine it, but what if teaching her proved pointless? That would mean she had neither academic nor physical talent. In that case, I'd have to take her to the church to check for healing talent. Perhaps the Stone of Wisdom would glow and reveal Charlotte as a saintess. Of course, that wouldn't happen. A slender saintess? That would be heresy. If anyone were to be called a saintess, Julia would suit the role far better than a child like Charlotte.

"Ugh. What's with that look in your eyes? You're thinking something sinister again!"

"..."

I was at a loss for words. Did this girl have mind-reading powers? Silently covering my face with the book, I lightly ignored Julia's indignant shout.

'Anyway, this book is complete nonsense.'

To practice black magic, one must offer the head of a male goat slaughtered under a full moon as a sacrifice, and so on and so forth... I saw through it the moment I opened it. This was superstition and pseudo-magic. Unlike properly systematized true magic, the contents of this book never rose above folk religion—nothing but plausible-sounding drivel.

The problem was that every other book Aslan had purchased was the same. This idiot had secretly spent a fortune on crudely written horror books disguised as grimoires. No wonder the empire suppressed black magic when lunatics kept taking this stuff seriously and slaughtering goats or torturing virgins. And the more they suppressed it, the more people like Aslan assumed black magic must be something incredible and doubled down on their nonsense. It must be quite the headache for the emperor as well.

'But something doesn't add up. At the end of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Chapter 1, Aslan clearly uses what looks like black magic.'

Yet it also made no sense for black magic to be nothing but illusion and superstition. In the game, Aslan had attacked the protagonist by manipulating black smoke. If that wasn't black magic, then what was it? Was there something like a real grimoire left behind by an actual black mage, rather than these frauds' books?

'I should search this entire library thoroughly.'

If such a thing existed, it would be here. But this library was far too vast. How long would it take to search every corner? No. Would the inherently lazy, get-rich-quick Aslan even have attempted to scour the library for a grimoire in the first place? I couldn't picture it.

'At the very least, I won't get results just by staring at books like this.'

Between his nagging sister Irene and the need to satisfy the Evil God Kali, I would at least have to pretend to produce results. So for the time being, I would have to continue this ridiculous ritual.

'Looks like I'm suddenly cosplaying as a black mage.'

At minimum, I needed to show effort. That would buy me time while I slowly searched for clues about real black magic. Surely I could accomplish what that brain-dead idiot Aslan managed to do?

The real problem would come after I gained the ability to use black magic... Instead of escaping the family's pressure, I'd have to dodge witch hunts conducted on a national scale. Well, I could worry about that when the time came.

Witch hunts could be dealt with by faking my identity and running away, but I couldn't escape being strangled to death by the Evil God watching from right behind me.

'By the way, why doesn't this body get sleepy?'

I had definitely stayed up all night yesterday. So naturally, I assumed my body had adjusted to a nocturnal routine. Yet even as the afternoon passed and the sun began to set, my eyelids showed no sign of growing heavy, let alone drowsiness. Had I taken some kind of stimulant?

What?

What is this? A contract? Between me and the Evil God Kali? I had wondered why this Evil God kept following me around with nothing better to do, but it was because of the contract? A sudden headache struck me.

'Terminate the contract!'

'Please terminate it!'

'Please!'

Of course it wouldn't work. Even the contract effect was trivial. The ability to recover without sleeping? Where were the mana increases or physical ability amplifications? It was a useless ability for a lazy bum like Aslan. Though it might be different for someone like Julia who never had enough hours in the day...

'Wait, what's wrong with her?'

I turned at the sudden thudding sound and saw Julia repeatedly nodding off and banging her head against the desk. If she was sleepy, she should just sleep. I wondered why she was struggling so hard to stay awake when—

"Ugh. Again... It's so loud..."

That wasn't it. She wanted to sleep but couldn't? She dozed off briefly only to wake up again, furrowing her brow as if forcibly awakened by something. Was she in pain somewhere?

"Is it a headache?"

"No, it's not that... Ugh. More importantly, why are you touching my forehead without permission..."

"No fever. So what's the problem that's making you keep dozing off?"

"It's none of your business..."

"If something's wrong with your body, the medical expenses come out of my pocket. Report it immediately."

"Scum..."

Julia scowled with bloodshot eyes and swatted my hand away. But her voice and touch lacked the spirit she'd shown on the first day. She looked thoroughly exhausted. What I'd initially dismissed as mere tiredness now seemed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠quite serious. It wasn't just one or two nights of lost sleep. Was she ill somewhere? Had Irene done something to her?

All sorts of possibilities flashed through my mind. Then—

"Voices... Voices... Huh? Why can't I hear them now..."

"..."

Thud. As Julia muttered in an irritated voice, she slumped over weakly. I quickly caught her. Checking to see if she'd collapsed from exhaustion, I found she had simply fallen asleep. She was sleeping so deeply and peacefully it was almost absurd. Was this really the same person who'd looked like she hadn't slept in a week?

Well, whatever the reason, it was fortunate she was sleeping soundly. Thinking this, I laid her on the sofa and was about to return to my seat when—

"Ugh..."

"Whywhywhywhywhy."

She suddenly furrowed her brow and groaned, looking distinctly unwell. She seemed on the verge of waking. Startled, I approached again, only for her expression to return to peaceful as if nothing had happened. When I took a few steps back, her brow furrowed in pain once more. When I returned, she immediately relaxed.

"Hah."

She tried to wake when I moved away. She fell back into deep sleep when I came close. What kind of person was this? I laughed in disbelief, then suddenly recalled what Julia had muttered just before falling asleep.

'Voices? Ah.'

Julia was a talent who would awaken as a spirit mage in the future. One of the representative symptoms of those with the vessel for spirit magic was insomnia. Spirits' voices echoed ceaselessly from all directions, and without any way to control them, sleep became impossible. So why could Julia sleep soundly by my side? Because I was an existence that spirits found repulsive. Aslan, unloved by mana, was naturally a detestable being that spirits wanted nothing to do with. And if I used my active skill in addition to that passive skill?

'Skill. Touch of Death.'

Shhhhh. For a moment, the surrounding air seemed to grow cold. All the nearby spirits should have perished. Before I knew it, a faint ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smile had even formed on Julia's lips.

'She really is pretty.'

When awake, she only complained, leaving no room to find her cute. But sleeping peacefully like this, she truly looked like an angel. I was afraid of the tantrum she'd throw when she woke up, but for now, she was cute enough. That was fine.

"You only let your guard down when you're asleep, huh."

"Hnn..."

Poke. Press, poke. As if venting the day's frustrations, I poked and stretched her cheeks, playing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with them. The way the soft flesh stretched like rice cake was strangely addictive.

"Hnnn!"

"Ah."

I'd been caught.

. . .

Evening, as the sun slowly set. The green-haired girl sat down, panting heavily.

"Haa! Haa!"

"Drink some water. That's enough for today."

"H-How was I?"

"Well, you seem to have athletic sense, but that's about it. Good dynamic vision, good field of view, good reaction speed, good multitasking ability, good momentary concentration, but there are many areas lacking. So we'll continue training tomorrow. It'll be harder and harsher than today. Will you be alright?"

"Yes! I like it when it's harder!"

Charlotte answered loudly, pausing mid-drink. This was the first time anything had been this enjoyable. No matter what she'd studied before, she'd never been able to take interest or do well. But today, even though she'd spent the entire day jumping rope and running under the pretext of sword training, it had been fun. If it was this, she could work hard. She wouldn't lose interest. Maybe she could even earn her keep!

Just thinking about it made her chest swell with anticipation.

"If I work hard too, could I become a great knight like you, ma'am?"

"I... am not a great knight. Don't try to become like me."

"Pardon?"

"Go wash up first. It'll be time to eat soon."

Silvia's expression darkened. A great knight, huh... There had been a time when she'd dreamed of such things. Why was someone like her now working under this wicked family? Gritting her teeth, Silvia shook her head and scattered the pointless thoughts. Those days were long gone.

"Young Master. It's almost mealtime... Hm?"

Creak. The library door opened. Silvia's body stiffened at the scene visible through the gap. Aslan Belmont sat on the long sofa, reading a book with one hand. That much was fine. But the fact that his other hand rested on the cheek of the child sleeping with her head on his lap was more than enough to be problematic.

"This bastard finally laid hands on a child...!"

"Ma'am. Could you please not make too much noise?"

"What? Why?"

"Julia hasn't been able to sleep much lately. It seems like this is the first time in a month she's sleeping so comfortably. So could you please just let her sleep for now?"

"..."

Charlotte clung to Silvia's hem and pleaded earnestly. Looking again, Aslan's hand was being held by the child's own hand. It looked as though Julia herself had pulled it over in her sleep. Silvia clicked her tongue and stepped back.

"I'll let it slide this once."

Swish, thud. The library door closed quietly. Even if she had insomnia, using sleep magic on a child? What a beastly bastard. In the past, she would have stormed in immediately to separate the child from Aslan, but strangely, she didn't feel like doing so now.

'Trusting him? Me? Trusting Aslan?'

Hah. Ridiculous. No way. That couldn't be it.