Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Residual Scent (2)
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"Prince, wait inside for a bit."
"⋯⋯What? What about you?"
"I have some business to attend to."
It wasn't just talk—if it really was a demon, having other people around would only get in the way.
He prepared the Tear of the Stars and the Eye of Quilia.
And the most important thing of all.
"⋯⋯Huh, what? A sword? Where'd that come from?"
It was just reverting the holy sword, which he'd stored as a bracelet, back to its original form.
His eyes bulging at the sight was pretty amusing.
"Anyway, stay put inside!"
With that, Carlyle gripped the hilt of the holy sword and vaulted over the window frame.
This was a race against every second and minute. No time for leisure.
He spotted his target right away.
[This is the building. Be careful when you breach it. The density of demonic energy feels completely different from those stray ghosts we ran into before.]
Carlyle could sense it himself for sure.
It had vanished in a flash just moments ago, but that skin-crawling sensation was on another level from the stray ghosts he'd faced previously.
Probably a pretty fierce fight ahead. With that thought, he kicked down the door.
⋯⋯What confronted him was someone completely unexpected.
"⋯⋯Oppa?"
Inside the building, reeking of blood so thick it felt like your nose might rot off, someone tilted their head.
"Liza Margrave⋯⋯?"
Moonlight gleamed palely on silver hair amid a pile of corpses.
Carlyle, staring at Liza—covered head to toe in blood, blood dripping from both hands—scanned the surroundings.
Mountains of corpses.
Human limbs scattered everywhere, at least dozens of them.
[These are all well-trained personnel. They wouldn't go down this one-sidedly so easily.]
There wasn't even a trace of resistance anywhere.
These were people even the Hero would call well-trained, slaughtered unilaterally.
"Did you do this, Margrave?"
"And?"
"⋯⋯."
"Got a problem with that?"
"⋯⋯Could you tell me why you did it?"
"Oh, hold on."
With that, Liza stomped on the wriggling corpses around her.
Heads burst like popped balloons.
"Whoa—tough bastards. How are they still alive even after I chopped off all their limbs?"
She said it so innocently, wearing the same cheerful smile from before.
"⋯⋯."
Carlyle fell silent, glaring at her.
Even the holy sword let out a voice dripping with disbelief.
[⋯⋯This woman's insane.]
Seeing her like this, it suddenly hit home.
That this woman was the Emperor's 'executioner'.
Utterly desensitized to killing.
He had no idea what method she'd used to massacre this many alone, but she carried it without any weight at all.
Liza glanced at the silent Carlyle for a moment, then smirked.
"So, Oppa, what brings you here?"
"Liza Margrave. Sorry, but you still haven't answered my question."
"⋯⋯."
Liza stared quietly at Carlyle.
"Hey. You don't like me or something?"
"⋯⋯Pardon?"
"You're not like that with others, but you always got thorns with me. Look, even now you're ready to draw your sword any second."
"⋯⋯."
"I'm just a sword following His Majesty's orders. He told me to 'clean up' any suspicious folks around here, so I did. Pests always swarm from all sides before the Fever Rites."
With that, Liza yawned and pointed to the blood-drawn symbols on the wall.
"See those? Summoning circles. Couldn't pull out a noble-class demon, but throw in a few more sacrifices and who knows. Hell doesn't just spit out demons, you know?"
"⋯⋯."
"You felt something too, right? That's why you rushed here. Everything from Hell is stark raving mad."
Carlyle's eyes narrowed.
"⋯⋯Margrave, do you know about Hell?"
"A bit?"
"⋯⋯."
As far as Carlyle knew, info on demons and Hell wasn't widespread outside the Orthodox Church, the epicenter of exorcism.
Unless you'd gathered it firsthand like he had through his regressions, running into someone this knowledgeable about demons was a first.
⋯⋯This woman, though.
Every time they crossed paths, something felt off.
She knew things she shouldn't naturally know, as if it were obvious.
And using techniques even the Hero couldn't detect.
'What the hell is her deal?'
As Carlyle mulled that over, Liza continued.
"But you keep asking all these questions, so I got one for you too."
"Yes?"
"Oppa, you sure don't act like your looks when it comes to people dying. Super desensitized."
Liza grinned mischievously.
"You didn't even flinch when I was doing all that just now, right?"
"⋯⋯I'm used to violence."
"Nah, nah, if it was just that, you'd at least say something."
"Hmm—" Liza tapped her cheek, lost in thought.
Blood trickled down her cheek.
"How to put it. It's weird, really weird. Not just used to it—it's like it's worn down completely, eroded away—"
Having seen too much, numb to any stimulus.
Crushed by time, experience, memories—instincts worn to nothing.
⋯⋯Beyond human.
"I'm kinda similar? I feel nothing from stuff like this anymore. You and me, we're alike, right?"
"⋯⋯I think our trajectories differ a bit."
At least Carlyle couldn't smile casually while killing like this.
"Hey—! I'm no psycho! I never touch anyone who doesn't deserve it! Never swung at innocents!"
Liza puffed her cheeks and huffed in protest.
⋯⋯That was true enough.
Devil Worshippers deserved death.
Even Dean Shea, whom Carlyle trusted, had no ill words for Liza.
Just that, in Liza's case.
"I just can't feel most things."
Liza said it still smiling.
"⋯⋯Pardon?"
"Emotions... they just fade. Unless I'm exaggerating on purpose."
"⋯⋯."
"Guess I'm wired that way from birth. Weird, huh?"
⋯⋯Her mouth smiled, but her eyes held no emotion.
"⋯⋯."
"So maybe that's why I like you."
Carlyle blinked blankly.
[What the hell is this crazy bitch babbling about?]
⋯⋯No idea why the Hero was raging when the person involved was staying quiet.
"Margrave. Was that a confession just now?"
"Not that serious. Just that I'm curious about you, for real. You're fun, at least—"
Liza giggled on.
"Oppa, truth is, aren't your emotions fading too?"
Carlyle's eyes narrowed further.
"Like, mostly just 'faking' it already, same as me?"
"⋯⋯."
"Can't help but be intrigued. We're the same type."
What to say.
This time, he felt it clearly.
⋯⋯This woman was sharp.
Digging into him.
Piercing his mental barriers with razor precision.
Enough to make even Carlyle unconsciously hold his breath.
"So, Oppa. Wanna hang out more from now on?"
"What do you mean by 'hang out'?"
"Just."
Liza shrugged.
"Come do jobs with me sometimes. Life in the Poheaven Margrave Territory ain't bad?"
"⋯⋯Are you asking me to become your retainer?"
"Hmm, well, something closer would be fine too?"
"⋯⋯."
"I don't find many people interesting. When I do, I keep 'em close no matter what. For those, I'd give my liver and gall."
"⋯⋯."
"Promise. I'll treat you right?"
"I'm already serving someone."
"Look, be honest."
Liza sighed deeply.
"The Hero's a total punk, right?"
"⋯⋯."
"Has she ever treated you well even once?"
"⋯⋯."
"Shown human warmth, consideration, anything? Bet not. Probably just beats on you all the time."
"⋯⋯."
"I'd never do that. Treat you right, human to human."
"⋯⋯."
"Better than that brute, right?"
⋯⋯This.
No words, even with ten mouths. Spot-on insight.
Carlyle gave a wry smile and stored the holy sword.
'Heard the courtship would be intense.'
He'd heard he'd have to pledge loyalty to someone during the Fever Rites.
But not this direct, this soon.
"An attractive offer, thank you."
[⋯⋯You?]
The holy sword's voice suddenly chimed in.
[What's attractive about it? Why entertain that lunatic?]
⋯⋯Sounded a bit anxious, somehow.
"Margrave."
Still, one thing first.
Carlyle spoke in a serious tone.
"You're not really my type."
"⋯⋯."
"How to put it—kinda middling."
Liza's face went blank.
"⋯⋯Wh-what? Middling⋯⋯?"
"Not a serious confession, but a serious rejection seemed necessary."
"⋯⋯."
"I like 'em with more extreme edges. Sorry."
The Margrave still stared at him blankly.
Clearly never imagined this reaction.
"⋯⋯Did you just say I'm not appealing?"
"Yes."
"⋯⋯."
"And I never permitted you to call me Oppa."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
"We'll meet during the Fever Rites too, but you'll get a similar answer then."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯."
Carlyle bowed politely to Liza.
"Liza Margrave. For me, that punk Hero makes the best liege."
Hearing that, the Margrave.
Still wore a dazed expression.
"Well then, excuse me. Got to head to the imperial palace tomorrow."
As Carlyle left the building.
"Ah—seriously."
Liza's voice trailed after him, laced with a hollow laugh.
"You're seriously fun."
⋯⋯Definitely.
Felt like they'd meet again.
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