The Ring (4): A Face I Had Never Seen Before

It was the first time I had ever seen such an expression on her face. A wet, sticky, and utterly eerie look that I couldn’t quite place.

I had always prided myself on being able to read at least some emotion even behind a blank mask, but the face she wore now was completely indecipherable. The only thing I could feel was a creeping, slimy dread that made my skin crawl.

The same girl who had shown no emotion at all when she looked at me together with Kafka was now staring at me alone, radiating that strange feeling.

Seeing this side of her for the first time, goosebumps rose across my body without me realizing it. The thought of waking Kafka up vanished from my mind in an instant.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

But that moment was fleeting. The instant I blinked and refocused on Angelica, the sticky, horrifying aura had vanished without a trace. All that remained before me was Angelica, simply worrying about my well-being.

What the hell was that feeling? Was it just my imagination…?

No way. I knew better than anyone that this wasn’t something I could just brush off as a trick of the mind. The part of Kafka’s clothes I had been gripping was soaked through with my cold sweat. The dampness filling my palm proved it. How could that possibly be a hallucination?

“……I’m fine.”

I answered shakily and helped Kafka to her feet. Then I looked at Angelica again, half-expecting that same expression to have returned. Fortunately, her face was still blank, but hidden within that blankness was clear relief at my answer.

Yet the contrast between her current expression and the one from moments ago was so extreme that for a second, I couldn’t say a word.

……Maybe I had been deliberately ignoring it. Maybe I had been complacent, thinking that as long as I kept the title, nothing bad would happen.

Why had I forgotten?

The person standing right in front of me could one day become one of the Bad Endings that would destroy the world.

And yet.

“Ian…?”

Her eyes began to tremble. So violently that I didn’t even need to use Insight. Her anxiety was plain to see. I had no idea what she was anxious about, but her ruby-red pupils were shaking violently.

I was the one who should be scared to death, so why was she the one looking anxious? I couldn’t understand what could possibly make her feel this way. Especially when she was someone who could cut down even that anxiety with her sword.

Whoever could make her look like this was probably far closer to a Bad Ending than she was. Or rather, I should ask if such a person even existed in the first place.

After letting out a small, bitter laugh at my own pointless thoughts, I looked at her again. She was still watching me with those anxious eyes.

I don’t get why you’re anxious while looking at me…. Don’t be anxious. If you act like that, what does that make me, the one who resolved himself?

That’s right. She could become a Bad Ending. She was a Sword Demon with more than enough talent to make it happen. If she lost interest in me and the title was revoked, even if I reached a Happy Ending, it would still turn into a Bad Ending. That fact remained unchanged.

So what if I had realized that truth and corrected my complacent attitude? Nothing had actually changed.

Whether she carried the possibility of a Bad Ending or not. Whether I knew about that possibility or not. Whether I had been complacent about it or not. My duty remained the same.

To become the best punching bag possible so that this girl would never be disappointed. Wasn’t that my role?

And so what if the gap between us didn’t narrow? If she became a Sword User, I would remain a Sword User. If she reached Sword Expert, I would stay at Sword Expert. If she became a Sword Master, then I would simply become a Sword Master too.

Like the tortoise chasing Achilles, even if I could never truly catch up, I was confident I could maintain that unchanging distance forever.

Sword Master? I was planning to reach it anyway.

So don’t be anxious.

I glanced at the wooden sword Kafka had been clutching until the very end, then took it from her hand.

“Shall we go for another round?”

“Really…?”

At my words, the trembling in her pupils stopped. Her red eyes, which had closed and reopened, now sparkled like polished rubies.

I never thought such crazy words would come out of my own mouth, but today, I didn’t think it would be so bad. So consider this a special service, miss.

However.

“No, I think that’s enough for today.”

Angelica, who had been slowly approaching me with sparkling eyes, suddenly stopped in her tracks and shook her head. I was shocked in a completely different way. That battle-crazed monster was actually refusing a spar?

The same Angelica who had been begging for more duels just moments ago?

I stared at her in utter bewilderment. She slightly lifted the corners of her mouth and slowly opened her lips.

“Ian, you were a patient until just now.”

…? Is that something you should be saying?

I felt my sense of reason fleeing at her words. That didn’t sound like something coming from the person who had been enthusiastically beating the crap out of said patient earlier.

Whether she knew how I felt or not, Angelica simply wore a faint smile.

“Ian when you’re not at full strength isn’t any fun.”

Interest quickly turned to doubt. Doubt turned to disappointment. And disappointment turned into emptiness.

Why? It was clearly the same technique.

Every time our blades met, all I could feel was deficiency.

Because it wasn’t Ian?

But it was the same Mad Orlando.

No. This isn’t Ian.

This isn’t him.

You are not Ian.

You’re not.

You can’t even break my wooden sword. You don’t have that fierce heart, that obsessive tenacity. How can you possibly call this the same Mad Orlando?

As expected.

“As expected, it’s not the same.”

I looked down at the collapsed Kafka. It’s lacking. It’s not fun. It’s not delicious. She isn’t delicious.

I looked at Ian, who was trying to help her up. Satisfaction. Delicious. Fun. Delicious. Delicious.

As expected.

The eyes that had been capturing both of them now held only one person.

“As expected, it has to be Ian.”

It has to be Ian’s Mad Orlando. It has to be his sword. Only when you swing it does it have meaning.

Sparring with Ian is fun. Sparring with Kafka ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is not fun. That’s why it’s lacking. I want it filled. I want to fill this emptiness again.

So, Ian, will you fill it for me?

My gaze continued to chase after Ian. I fixed him inside my own world. Because only you can fill this emptiness.

Fill me. So I can be satisfied. So I can be full.

I was so worked up because of your spirit, yet I couldn’t feel satisfied at all.

In that case…… shouldn’t you, the contractor, take responsibility?

Yes, that’s not bad. This is all Ian’s fault. You made me expect so much on my own and then failed to satisfy me at all, didn’t you?

So come on. Hurry.

I reached out my hand. The most delicious food in the world. The grand feast that would fill me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the brim. It was right in front of me.

I want to eat. I want to eat again. No matter how much I ate, I never got tired of it. The one who brought novelty into my world.

I want to eat your sword.

So please, fill this emptiness with your sword—

At that moment.

———Monster.

A single word flashed through my mind.

Why…… suddenly, why did that word come up?

When I blinked once and looked at him again, I could tell that Ian’s complexion was poor.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

His complexion is bad.

“……I’m fine.”

No, it seems he is fine. I’m relieved.

———Monster.

But then something occurred to me.

Really. Was it truly his complexion that was bad?

The person whose complexion was truly bad…

“……Ian?”

Wasn’t it me?

Monster.

The more I looked at his face, the more that single word ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠filled my head.

The word I had always heard and always seen.

No. No no no no no no.

That’s not it. It’s not.

Ian said it. Even if he saw me as a monster, he would become a monster like me. He wouldn’t leave me alone.

He said that. Even if I was a monster—

———Monster.

I knew you saw me as a monster. But when you look at me with those eyes, it still hurts my chest.

Aah. My mouth began to open. I’m scared. I don’t know what you’re going to say. No, I’m scared because I think I do know.

Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t call me a monster…

Pfft.

But what flowed from his lips was the sound of air escaping. A dry laugh. He ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was laughing without saying anything.

And the next words that came were—

“Shall we go for another round?”

It was a duel request. The second duel request he had ever made, when he had always stopped after just one.

When I closed my eyes and opened them again, when I looked at him once more, he was smiling like usual.

For the first time, he was preparing for a second spar. He picked up the wooden sword Kafka had refused to let go of, as if saying he would continue the fight that had been left unfulfilled.

The moment I heard those words, the single word that had filled my head began to slowly fade away.

“……Really?”

I took one step after another toward him. I could only eat once a day, so it was always unsatisfying. But I endured. Because I could eat again tomorrow.

But when I ended up lying unconscious for three whole days, I was starving. So unbearably hungry.

Still, I held back. So it should be okay to eat one more time, right? Since you gave me permission.

I approached slowly like that, about to reach out my hand—

No.

I shook my head.

“Ian, you were a patient until just now.”

The Ian right now had been lying in the infirmary for three days. And not long after waking up, he sparred with me. He can’t be at full strength.

Would it even taste good then? Ian always tastes good no matter when I eat him. But if I want to enjoy him even more deliciously…

I don’t think fighting him right now is right. If I fight him tomorrow, when he’s even stronger than before and at full power… wouldn’t it be even more delicious?

So.

“Ian when you’re not at full strength isn’t any fun.”

Yes, it definitely wouldn’t taste good. So I’ll hold back until tomorrow. Since I already endured three days, I can endure one more day. It will taste even better after holding back. Because delicious things are meant to be saved for later.

So, Ian. I’m asking you.

Become stronger and stronger. Stay in that strong state forever. Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that. So that I can fill my stomach to my heart’s content.

Today was quite a dizzying day. The sudden ring incident, and that girl Angelica too. Still, learning that transferring skills to a squire was so simple was a huge gain.

But why am I this tired when I didn’t even do that much?

When I arrived at the dormitory, I roughly washed up and collapsed onto the bed. The moment my body sank into the soft mattress, an enormous wave of fatigue crashed over me.

To think I would be this exhausted even after sleeping for three whole days. By the way, that trio… they only glared at me and didn’t say much. I thought they would at least ask about the ring, but they only stayed wary. Not a single one asked me directly about it.

It seems Iris handled it well in her own way…

Still, Asdel and Charles in particular kept glaring at me. I can understand Charles. Their kingdom’s secret technique basically got NTR’d and turned into public property. But why was Asdel staring at me like that? He looked like he had something to say.

Was it because of the ring? An object filled with that much holy power wouldn’t be common even in the Holy Kingdom. I suddenly had it and then suddenly gave it to Iris, so maybe he was curious.

Well, if he’s really curious, he’ll probably come find me later on his own.

By the way, Dante is late.

I glanced at the empty bed beside me. Is he out on another night walk? He did say it was part of his routine. There was no need to wait up, so I simply closed my eyes.

I thought I saw a shadow flicker, but I didn’t pay it any mind. I figured it was just Kafka tossing around while sleeping inside the shadows, and I was too tired to care.

And then.

“———Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

A high-pitched, thin scream suddenly rang out, forcing me awake. What the hell? An attack? No matter how immoral the villains are, there shouldn’t be a midnight raid event, right?

I opened my eyes and looked to the side. Dante was there. It seemed the thin scream had come from him.

But wasn’t that strange…? For a guy, that scream was incredibly high-pitched. And that wasn’t all.

“Y-you… Ian, you.”

How should I put it? Dante was making an expression I had never seen before. Was it contempt? Or utter incomprehension? Just what was he looking at to make a face like… wait a second.

What is this heavy, suffocating sensation? There was a soft, squishy pressure against my chest. And something furry was brushing against my legs, trembling.

I looked down and my mouth fell open.

Because Kafka was sleeping while clinging to me like a dakimakura. Completely naked.

Haha. So this is what they call pleasure without responsibility?