Chapter 180

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: crow

Chapter Title: Revival of the Murder Ghost (3)

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Klana tried to recall her memories of Rishir while bathing.

Memories from their time as lovers, or perhaps even as husband and wife.

"Why is this happening...?"

In the midst of that, she noticed something strange about her body.

Her left hand began to tense up against her will, moving in a peculiar way.

There was no discomfort or pain.

It couldn't be helped. This was simply the manifestation of a deep-seated consciousness within her.

But Klana didn't know that—

And so, with a mix of curiosity and concern, she quietly watched her left hand.

Wriggle.

Wriggle.

It was too odd to dismiss as a mere twitch.

Almost like it was writhing in response to some specific emotion.

"Ah."

Eventually, Klana realized it.

This was a natural reaction stemming from her subconscious.

Her body remembered, so to speak.

For example.

Before losing her memories, whenever she thought of her "lover Rishir," her body would react like this.

Now that she understood that, her curiosity only grew.

What could it be?

Just thinking of a man she was romantically involved with made her body writhe like this?

What reason could there be for that?

With her murderous intent gone for some reason, and even her memories of killing and combat erased—

Klana was now just an ordinary woman.

'Ah! My subconscious is so embarrassed right now that it's trying to kill me itself!'

She could never arrive at such an extraordinary, domineering line of thought.

In the end.

She reached an utterly ordinary conclusion through utterly ordinary reasoning.

"Is it embarrassed...?"

What other reason could there be for her body writhing so violently at the thought of her relationship with her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lover(?)?

"Come to think of it—..."

Amid her jumbled memories, Klana recalled those that stood out relatively clearly.

The most recent ones.

The ones that had given her the greatest thrill.

In those memories, she was speaking to Rishir.

Promising to let him touch her breasts.

Looking back now, her attitude had been a bit peculiar.

It was a situation where she was permitting her lover access to her body, yet her emotions felt so dry and detached.

Like handing candy to a child who didn't seem all that rational, out of mere generosity?

Of course, that was absurd.

"Rishir..."

A shy smile played on the lips of the woman who uttered the man's name.

His noble, refined appearance.

His unaristocratic, down-to-earth personality.

What woman could completely suppress her rational desires when facing such a man?

What woman could treat giving her body to such a man like handing over an object?

Only those who lived antisocial lives could manage that.

'Could I have been... that kind of person?'

The thought flickered through her mind, but it lacked any real convincing power.

'No, that can't be. If I were, he wouldn't treat me so normally.'

The way Rishir treated her felt far too natural to be how one would handle an outlaw.

It might be possible for someone who frequently dealt with killers, bandits, and mercenaries in the underworld—

But at least Rishir didn't seem like someone close to that world.

"Hmm..."

And so.

Klana pruned each branch of thought, steering her reasoning toward what she believed was correct.

Eventually, she arrived at a question and answer.

Question.

You are a woman who could indifferently offer your body to Rishir.

Choose the reason that made it possible.

1. You don't see him rationally at all, feel no value in the features of the female body, and possess an antisocial, inhuman personality.

2. You're simply clumsy at expressing your true feelings.

Klana naturally chose the second option.

It was far more realistic than being an outright crazy woman.

'I thought if I acted indifferent and uninterested, he'd come to me first on his own.'

Klana stood before the bathroom mirror.

"..."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she stared at her reflection.

"I was such an embarrassed little thing."

Hm?

Klana looked down at her body.

There it was again.

Her body was writhing subconsciously.

At this point, it bordered on frenzy—less embarrassment, more like murderous intent.

Of course, it was just an illusion.

Murderous intent?

An emotion utterly unrelated to a "normal" woman like her.

Therefore.

This was embarrassment.

She was definitely feeling shy right now.

She was a troublesome woman who couldn't be honest with her "lover."

With that, Klana felt she'd come one step closer to understanding her true self(?). A satisfied smile spread across her face.

"Hehe."

Soon, mischief glinted in that smile.

Klana made a pathetic face at her reflection in the mirror.

'What are you doing? With such a cool, wonderful guy.'

She didn't know him well.

Of course not. All they'd shared was a short time since she lost her memories.

Even so.

She could tell.

He wasn't the type to treat others carelessly.

He'd respond to sincerity with sincerity—

A genuinely honest man.

With that appearance.

That aura.

That personality.

He was the ideal man ordinary women could only dream of.

And yet.

Having the fortune to be his lover, and behaving like this?

'Allowing him to touch my breasts...'

Klana shook her head.

She thought.

She was hopeless.

The pre-amnesiac her was beyond redemption, a total airhead.

Therefore—

"Maybe this is an opportunity."

If she were to act—

Before regaining her memories would be the perfect time.

Stubbornness. Pettiness. Mind games.

Things inevitable in normal relationships.

However.

Normal relationships were fragile enough to shatter at any moment.

Klana didn't want to lose a good man like Rishir over such trivialities.

"Alright."

With her resolve firm, Klana left the bathroom.

"Rishir? What are you doing?"

It was the first sight that greeted Klana as she entered the room from the bathroom.

Rishir.

He was preparing a bed on the sofa.

While ignoring the large bed behind him that could fit two people with room to spare.

"As you can see, I'm getting ready for bed."

"How considerate. Preparing a place for me to sleep?"

"..."

Rishir looked at Klana in surprise.

"Huh? Why?"

"Ah, it's nothing. Don't mind it."

"Come on, you can't tease me like that."

Klana approached Rishir and lightly poked his arm.

"Tell me. You want me to regain my memories too, right?"

"Well... if I say that has nothing to do with it, does that make me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too oblivious?"

"What I lost were everyday memories. So wouldn't casual conversation like this help jog them?"

"..."

Rishir looked at Klana in surprise once more.

"Seriously, what's with you this time?"

"For Klana, that was awfully... rational phrasing. Caught ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me off guard."

"What?"

Klana let out a chuckle and playfully glared at him.

"Sounds like you're saying I'm usually irrational?"

"...Who knows."

"Pardon?"

"Irrational, or perhaps too rational to the point it's a problem..."

"..."

At Rishir's meaningful attitude, Klana was reminded once again.

Of what her original self had been like.

'Dishonest and troublesome... She'd pick fights needlessly when he showed concern.'

Minding that, Klana continued the conversation.

"Rishir."

"Yes?"

"In situations like this normally, how would I act?"

"Act how?"

"Like, would I say thanks for caring, or express it some other way?"

"..."

Rishir thought for a moment, then burst into amused laughter.

Klana shook her head.

"Yeah, I figured. Must've been a real hassle, never hearing a simple 'thanks.' Right?"

"Hassle or tiring, I don't know... But you weren't one to say thanks easily."

"Isn't it ridiculous?"

"Klana?"

She drew closer to Rishir.

Leaning in with her hands behind her back, her posture held a secretive playfulness, like gossiping about someone.

"What's so hard about saying thanks? Who does she think she is, acting all high and mighty? Right?"

A memory-lost woman badmouthing her pre-amnesia self.

Naturally, this was a first for Rishir, and he had no idea how to respond.

Fortunately, Klana's mischievous smile offered a big hint.

She wasn't truly disgusted by her past self.

Matching her playful smile, Rishir replied lightly.

"Actually, she is that impressive."

"Pardon?"

"Even in the whole world, there aren't many as impressive as Klana."

How many swordsmen could look down on swordmasters?

Klana was undoubtedly one of that elite few.

"..."

At Rishir's words, Klana first felt a deep satisfaction.

She sensed his respect was genuine, not mere flattery.

But that satisfaction was short-lived.

"Sigh."

Klana let out a sigh like she couldn't believe it.

"That's the problem."

"Pardon?"

"You spoil me so much, that's why I never got my act together."

"Your senses..."

Thinking of the murder ghost, Rishir chuckled with a hollow "Heh heh."

"Klana and 'right mind'—connecting those might require more than just not spoiling you."

"...Surprisingly, you can be sharp-tongued?"

She hadn't expected such a biting reply from the ever-kind and polite Rishir.

Klana looked at him in surprise.

The interest in her eyes deepened.

"Oh, was it too sharp? Sorry if it bothered you."

"Argh! Why apologize— it was perfect until then!"

"Hahaha, then I'm sorry for being sorry too."

As they bantered, Rishir finished his task.

He placed a pillow from the bed at the head of the sofa, completing the second sleeping spot besides the bed.

Klana naturally lay down on it.

Looking up at Rishir from there, she said.

"..."

Rishir felt a strange freshness from this angle.

The murder ghost who would look down on foes even on the brink of death with her aloof gaze.

Her looking up at someone.

And with such a playful gaze, no less.

Suddenly, Rishir grew worried.

'Klana... will she be okay once she regains her memories?'

Unaware that things had already gone off the rails long before his concern.

Then, Klana spoke.

"Is this how it usually goes?"

"What do you mean?"

"That little jab you just made. Do you normally talk back sharply when I act all high and mighty?"

"I'd love to ask your intent, but... sure, let's say yes. Truth is, it wasn't arrogance or sharpness. We weren't exactly formal with each other."

"Hm..."

Klana was fairly tall for a woman.

Lying in the middle of the sofa, her long legs dangled off the edge.

She swung them idly as she pondered.

"That explains it."

"Pardon?"

"Even when you behave properly, I'm like this?"

"...Well, Klana wouldn't change for just me. Even if the whole world acted right, she'd probably stay stubborn as a pine tree."

"Way too flattering in the middle there?"

"Ah, I meant stubbornly rotten like a pine tree."

"Ah!"

Giggle.

Klana burst into laughter for some reason.

"..."

Rishir reflexively squeezed his eyes shut.

A pang of guilt—he felt he shouldn't let her innocent brightness sear into his retinas.

"What's this? You're nothing like I imagined."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. I thought you were this poor, kind guy just indulging a pathetic woman."

"Turned out neither pathetic nor pitiable?"

"Hm. More like, I'm impressed with myself."

"For what?"

"For not getting my act together despite a guy like you."

Snicker.

Klana sat up on the sofa.

"Anyway. I have something to say, so don't freak out."

"...Did I unknowingly kill someone? Or cripple them half to death—"

"Hahaha! Your jokes—"

"..."

Not a joke.

As Rishir muttered in a sinking voice, Klana looked at him seriously.

"Thank you."

"Whaaat...!"

"I said don't freak— ...No, are you freaking out too much?"

"Sorry, reflex."

"You're sorry? I'm sorry. What kind of person was I that a simple thanks shocks you like this."

"...A ruthless hunter who enjoys massacres?"

"So, interpret that as 'one crazy bitch'?"

"...Surprisingly accurate."

"What the hell."

Giggle.

As Klana burst into innocent laughter again—

Rishir voiced a belated question.

"By the way, what are you thanking me for all of a sudden?"

"What else?"

Pat pat.

Klana patted the blanketed sofa.

"For preparing my bed like this."

"It's not yours, Klana."

"Huh?"

"You sleep over there."

Rishir pointed to the spacious bed.

"Come on, even if I'm a crazy bitch, how could I kick the room's owner to the sofa and hog the bed?"

"...Your standards for crazy bitch are awfully low?"

"Are they? Well, then should I go out and beat up some people?"

Klana playfully swung her fist.

"...Your standards for crazy bitch are very low?"

"Jeez! What do you even think of me normally?"

Rishir gazed into the distance.

"Anyway! I'm not doing something that low!"

Thump thump!

Klana slapped the blanketed sofa emphatically, declaring.

"Tonight, I'm sleeping here, got it!"

"..."

"Ah!"

Suddenly, Klana brightened.

"Rishir! Wasn't that just like pre-amnesia me!?"

"Oof... Not at all?"

"Really? Wow. Still a long way to go...? What am I..."

She muttered as she lay back on the sofa.

"Klana, please just take the bed. It'll put my mind at ease."

"I'm really fine..."

But!

Klana shot up.

"Stubbornly refusing your consideration and insisting on my way—that's too me, isn't it?"

"I don't know the details of this 'me-ness,' but sure, let's go with that."

But!

Klana lay back down.

"If my stubbornness is to consider you—that wouldn't be me, right?"

Therefore!

Klana shot up again.

"How about this."

Klana eyed the bed.

"We both sleep on the bed?"

"Sadly, there's only one bed in my room."

"I know."

"Sadly, there's only one bed in my room."

"I know that."

As Rishir fidgeted under Klana's onslaught(?),

"Kyaa!?"

A sudden bellow from somewhere.

Klana startled and clung to Rishir.

"Zuinni...?"

Klana glanced between Dangaleon and Rishir.

"Ah, Klana. It's fine. No need to be scared. This guy's Dangaleon—a sort of spirit."

"And my friend. He won't harm us, so no worries."

Dangaleon ranted on, burning his own body (literally).

Klana, still confused, addressed him.

"...A sort of spirit, you say?"

"...Impressive."

"Spirits can be that loyal to one person?"