Chapter 181
Chapter 181
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Tit for Tat
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“...”
“...”
Klana stared into empty space with somewhat clouded eyes.
And Rishir stared at such Klana.
Time passed in that state—
Before long, a strange tension began to permeate the room.
Gulp.
Rishir swallowed dryly without realizing it and cautiously opened his mouth.
"Klana, did you sleep well?"
"..."
It was at that moment.
Rishir sensed a minute movement from Klana's arm.
“Oh no, Klana!!!”
He immediately drew close to her and grabbed that arm.
Because he had anticipated what she would try first with that arm.
Fortunately, perhaps.
Rishir's prediction hit the mark.
"Klana! Calm—calm down!!!"
Klana's arm trembled violently, straining upwards with all its might.
With nothing above it but her own neck.
Yes.
Klana was trying to strangle herself.
"Let go."
Klana said firmly in her characteristic haughty expression and tone.
It was undoubtedly the merciless, inhuman killer he remembered.
...But was it his imagination?
If that merciless killer's voice seemed somewhat emotional.
If those haughty eyes seemed to glisten faintly with moisture.
If the blood that only the ecstasy of slaughter could heat was pooling in certain parts of her face, emanating subtle warmth.
Yes.
Surely just his imagination.
Even if true, Rishir resolved to treat it as imagination.
Acknowledging it now might provoke unknown reactions from Klana.
How long did that stalemate last?
"Damn it, this wretched body...!"
Klana vented her frustration in exasperation.
Normally, her strength would easily shake off Rishir's grip and fulfill her intent—
But now, her body couldn't manage even that, delaying the end of this nightmare.
"I said let go!"
Finally, Klana shouted at Rishir.
Intended as a warning laced with her authority.
The domineering aura of a killer that could intimidate even swordmasters.
However.
Unlike Klana's intent or hopes, the warning lacked power.
The killer's authority.
Its root—that signature mercilessness—had been thoroughly shattered for some reason.
Starting from the force in her voice—
Her every action now brimmed with raw emotion.
Indeed, the dominant element was uncontrollable shame.
Shame so profound—
Rishir unwittingly felt guilt for thwarting her shameful end(?).
In truth, she deserved pity now.
"History won't remember something, and deep down something...!"
Words she wouldn't utter even at swordpoint.
She had become their blatant mouthpiece.
Considering Klana's usual temperament, the situation felt all the more devastating from her view.
That was why Rishir suppressed her will so ruthlessly, against his nature.
"This person! If I leave her now, she'll really do it!"
Embarrassed to death!
For this killer, those weren't jests but reality.
"Klana! I know it's a tough ask, but please, just calm down...! You plan to wreck the body we barely reclaimed!?"
"This cursed husk! Who cares! You saw what happened after I entered it!"
"...Directionally, not a bad change—...! Ah! No, sorry! I misspoke, Klana!!!"
"Shut that mouth!!! Keep flapping it like that, and you're next!"
Rishir realized her turmoil exceeded the obvious.
"Kill me the day after suicide!?"
Rishir strained to restrain her amid pounding headache.
Could this inhumanly rational being, now a total mess, even be calmed?
"...!"
It was then.
No.
A desperate mutter.
Klana's face twisted into another bewilderment.
She had noticed the change overtaking her body.
Another crisis imminent.
Klana inevitably paused her shameful suicide.
To tackle the more pressing issue.
"Rishir!"
She gazed at him with unsteady eyes.
"Ignore me!"
"Pardon?"
"When I enter that state! Never engage me! Got it!?"
Rishir was inwardly shocked.
Klana without memories.
He thought the blue lotus would reject her outright, yet she affirmed it as "me"—an aspect of self.
"Split personality!?"
Then.
"Ugh!"
Klana groaned, scowled, then flopped onto the sofa like a marionette with severed strings.
Before Rishir could voice concern—
Her eyes snapped open.
Not the haughty killer's—
But a vibrant woman's.
"Ugh~"
Klana sprang up from the sofa and stretched languidly.
Her energy so infectious, the watcher felt invigorated.
"Whew. Why's my body so—"
She twisted her neck side to side, stretching lightly.
"Should've listened to you after all. Felt great lying down, but now up—condition's not great?"
She grinned playfully at Rishir.
"..."
Rishir awkwardly dodged her gaze.
Recalling her desperate plea before this shift.
"Don't engage. Absolutely."
Per Klana, "she" wasn't a separate self.
Just another facet of Klana.
"Like drunk? Looks different, but same person—"
When Klana reverted.
She'd recall everything.
"Rishir?"
"..."
Aware, Rishir struggled to treat her naturally.
Hoping faintly, he probed.
"Klana, remember what just happened?"
"What just... happened?"
Klana pondered, hand to mouth.
"...!"
Her eyes flew wide.
"Oh—"
Rishir glimpsed hope.
Perfect memory-emotion sync would ease future dealings—
"Di-did I sleep-talk!?"
"..."
Hope dashed.
"Oh no..."
Klana clapped hand over mouth in mortification.
His grave look suggested epic blunder.
Soon, lowering her hand slowly.
"How... was it...? What'd I do to earn that look—..."
"Well—..."
"Ugh, forget it!"
Klana cut in desperately.
"I-is that okay!? Gazing at a sleeping woman sans consent. Even us, I have privacy!"
"...The one who suggested bed-sharing yesterday?"
"That's...! Different! Totally!"
"Is it...?"
"Obviously! Mental prep differs! If bed-shared with you, prepared, no sleep-talk!"
"Sleep-talking yields to grit... Fitting Lady Klana..."
"Mocking me!?"
"Halfway..."
"Ugh! Whatever..."
Hiiiing.
Klana wailed, face buried in hands.
Moment later.
She peeked from palms.
Glassy-eyed glare, prepared.
"So. What'd I do?"
You tried voluntary shameful suicide; I stopped forcibly.
Couldn't say straight.
Unlike blue lotus, delicate, ordinary thinker.
"Rash info might harm psyche."
Rishir worded carefully.
"Uh... nothing."
"Nonsense!"
See!
Klana thrust out both arms.
"Hand marks here!?"
"Ah. That—er... You seemed mistake-bound; I intervened forcibly?"
"Mistake...?"
Gazing at arms.
Eyes widened.
Her "frustration" reinterpreted wildly.
"Di-did I strip in sleep!?"
Sleep nude or suffocate, unconscious undress.
Common type.
Klana pegged herself.
"Strangle, not strip."
Unsayable; Rishir zipped lips, looked away.
"Ah... idiot... moron..."
Thus, Klana squirmed in shame, self-reproach.
Twitch.
Left hand spasmed unconsciously.
Afterward.
Confirming calm, Rishir shifted topics.
"Klana. Anything surface while asleep?"
"Memories... right."
Shake head post-deep thought.
"Sorry... Too comfy, I guess. Should've tried recalling, not blissed out—"
"No. Effort won't fix now, right? My needless words worried you. Sorry."
"..."
Klana eyed him, chuckled softly.
"Actually, fine, no?"
"Pardon?"
"My memories. Chat enjoyably sans 'em—right?"
"..."
"Ah! Maybe because absent!"
"Because?"
"Yes! Enjoyable chats! Ponder my norm!"
-When I enter that state! Never engage! Got it!?
Her words evoked usual voice.
"Damn. Sorry Klana. Can't ignore memoryless truly."
Rishir agonized.
She burst merry laughter.
"See! But really that dire? Face darkens thinking!?"
"No, this—"
"Ah~ fine. No excuses. Not scolding. And! No sorrys after?"
Playful arm poke.
"Pre-recovery—no, henceforth! No sorrys. Rare real guilt? Crazy woman's bad habit. Fix it."
Gauging reaction, looking up.
Lively smile on haughty-suited face.
"And I'll fix mine."
"You too?"
Heh heh heh. "Honest: happy now? Me unhinged?"
"Er..."
"C'mon~ Honest fine. Thoughtless me beats naggy one. Sorta! Right? Rhetorical."
Smirk.
Stood from sofa.
"So—"
Eyes darted.
"What now?"
"Pardon?"
"Usual mornings? Ah! Guess?"
"Ah. Go ahead."
"Hmm... chin."
Tap cheek.
Imaginative glee.
"Ah! Cafe!"
"Cafe?"
"Yes! Morning pester pretty fancy shop! Love this bit."
"...Cafe?"
"~Precisely, nice spot with you. Same. Early options limited. Cafes fine? Like: fragrant tea, leisure. Who hates? Right?"
"True."
"Grade: correct?"
"Close miss."
"Aw! How close?"
"Very."
"No cafe?"
"Nope."
"No time together?"
"..."
Recalled routine.
Morning training first, inner Klana always.
"Did spend together."
"Yes! Good."
Tense listener smiled content.
"Prep out. Ah! Dress up? Makeup, flashier?"
"You shine comfy."
"Ugh!!! Perfect. Reward prettier me—but can't, so comply today."
After.
Turns bathroom: wash, groom simply.
"Ready!"
Clap.
Eyes shine.
"What now?"
"Training."
"...Huh?"
Face: unimagined twist!?
"Training!? Me, you!?"
"Ah, you watched usually."
"~Phew. Thought sword duel sure."
"Honestly, you'd overwhelm pre-swing."
"~Yeah~ crazy me, nice you~ Ah! That!?"
Pointed corner sword.
Holy Sword of Yakjin, Zakrak.
"Whoa! Room full oddities!?"
"Zakrak. Can't today; blue lotus training."
"Hahaha, what? Talking sword? Fun~"
"Holy Sword of Yakjin, Zakrak."
"Pfft! Holy sword. Hilarious. Why here?"
"No clue."
"?"
"Huh? Right way?"
Klana, corridor with Rishir.
"Not exit-like—separate dojo?"
"Ah. Pre-training, brief chat someone."
"Me-related?"
"Yes. Your state."
"...Want memories fast? Dislike now?"
"Your state? Too good; lost on conduct."
"Ahaha! Spot-on. Lousy query. Sorry. Mean in hindsight. Amnesia no personality shift."
"Fine. Like both."
"Good~ then~"
Humming~
Hands back, hummed.
Fluttered butterfly-near Rishir.
"Rishir. Arm-link okay?"
"Eek!!! No. Never."
Rishir recoiled.
Friendly link; blue lotus wake—unpredictable outburst.
"Whoa! That panic? I hurt, yet sorry!?"
"Apologies. Both our sakes..."
"Grand? Tch. Fine. World fate; I'll spare."
"Thanks."
Soon.
Destination: Palag's office.
Halona staying till resolved.
"Halona. Inside?"
Silence.
No reply.
"...Out?"
"Now?"
"Postpone."
"Yay~"
Backyard training per plan.
"Wow! What! Rishir skills insane!?"
That day. Training diverged.
Yakjin power aside; pure swordplay.
Lest stimulate Klana.
Klana afar, rapt on swings.
How long.
"Rishir! Me swing?"
"Sure."
Handed iron trainer eagerly.
Gauged reaction—
"...!"
Hairs prickled.
Air chilled sharp.
"Rishir."
Vim voided.
Killing intent surged.
Klana's tone shifted stark.
"Said ignore thoroughly."
Rishir wronged.
Too vibrant ignore fully.
"Didn't pan; you saw?"
"No!"
Shout.
"I saw zilch."
"...True."
Huff.
Huff.
Killer panted rare ragged.
Soon, lips sly smile.
Unlike prior; beast fangs bared.
"Recall: no real-combat coaching yet."
"...!"
Klana spar.
Top anticipated post-reclaim.
Intent aside.
His sword source, teacher—
Her precision on level, flaws.
Sudden chance; heart raced.
"...Guidance truly?"
Rishir shelved fears; focused spar.
His zeal; she smirked derisively.
Truth.
She too itched clash proper.
Watched inner countless.
Saw flaws.
Frustration immense.
Verbal-void defect linger.
Helpless foes felled.
Ah.
Why.
Inward repeats, swallowed myriad.
However.
Ends.
"Come. Your standing now."
Nose sky-high; position teach.
True master reveal.
Envisioned: condescending overlook.
"...How?"
"Best shot."
"My best?"
"Yes. Demon sword art. Late say: gaps aplenty."
"...Are there?"
"Core my sword."
"Yes."
"Multi-power slips galore. True swordsman exploits."
Stanced.
"Words fail. Show now."
Haughty mien. Aura.
Blue lotus beckoned.
Come.
Nod.
Rishir stanced.
Demon art prep.
Simple after.
My countermove?
Her oft-thought watch.
Head: all contingencies set.
Nigh prophetic.
First move.
Feet. Breath. Eyes.
Mana flow.
All predicted.
Predetermined response.
Distance gauge.
Breath steady.
Feet plant.
Strike counter done.
"Now magic amid—"
Instant.
Stance jarred.
Magic distraction; flow lost.
"...Hold."
Composed face warped.
Different feel inside-view?