Chapter 99
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 99
And that child… is the Melek of today.
"The child made a wish," Jelly explained. "Coincidentally, there was a spell circle and a sacrifice right there, so the conditions aligned perfectly."
A wish? A spell circle? A sacrifice? Jelly’s words brought the summoning circle drawn on the floor of the director's office to mind.
Jelly stared quietly at Melek. The usual boisterous attitude had vanished, replaced by a fierce aura that made me shrink back instinctively. Looking at Melek now, Jelly was undoubtedly remembering the real Melek.
"The child made a wish to a demon and took over Melek's body."
"What? Me? I made a wish… and took over Melek's body?" Melek muttered, looking utterly shocked by Jelly's version of events.
I was just as shocked. If I heard correctly, Jelly had just said ‘demon,’ right?
"If it's a spell circle, you mean the one drawn in the director's office…?"
"Exactly. That's the one," Jelly confirmed, delivering the final blow.
So… the summoning circle I found wasn't for summoning spirits, but demons? My head spun, reeling from a truth I wasn't prepared to face. No wonder Jelly had insisted on getting a firm promise from Gabriel not to report this to his superiors.
To think it wasn't a spirit… This was as shocking as finding out Santa Claus wasn't real. It finally made sense. No wonder nobody in this world knew what a spirit was. It wasn't because they were rare; it was because they didn't exist. I couldn't believe it took me nearly a year since my possession to realize it wasn't a spirit summoning circle. Then again, maybe it was a relief I figured it out at all.
If things had gone just a little differently, I could have easily summoned a demon myself. Back then, I’d cursed the incomplete language patch, but it was a stroke of absolute luck that I couldn't read the annotations. I had basically avoided a death flag by being illiterate.
So Donau was trying to summon a demon… and if a sacrifice was needed, Canna would have been… The thought made my blood boil. That bastard Donau. I’m glad he’s dead.
"Melek, what wish did you make back then?" Jelly asked.
"My memory is so hazy, I really don't remember anything…"
"If you can't remember, we'll just have to guess."
At Jelly’s question, Melek searched his memory. He was so gentle; I couldn't imagine him making such a horrific wish.
"I was hungry, and I didn't want to die. That's all I can remember…" Melek trailed off before hesitating for a long moment and quietly adding, "And I hated them. I resented them. I wished the culprit who did that to me and the other children would just die."
It was a harsh wish, one I never thought I’d hear from Melek. But knowing the circumstances, I couldn't blame him or call it evil. Jelly nodded, seemingly satisfied.
"Then that princess can just make the same wish. Though she probably isn't hungry…? Well, she must be in pain, at least."
Honestly, Jelly was all bluster and no consideration, but I suppose that was fitting for a villainess's minion.
I turned to see Jeremia breathing in ragged gasps. There really was no other way. Holy water hadn’t worked, and doctors were useless. In a world where they blamed a cat for Evangeline’s illness and slaughtered strays, I doubted their medicine was very advanced. If it were, Ryder would have recovered long ago.
I had already drawn a summoning circle in the storage room. We had to recreate a situation similar to Melek's, but I couldn't bring myself to sacrifice another person as an offering. As I was agonizing over this, Jelly casually remarked that a delivery would arrive soon.
"It's here."
Pudding appeared, throwing something onto the floor with a heavy thud. It was a familiar face.
"Azazel?"
Azazel collapsed in a heap.
"Since this bastard is the reason the princess is dying, he should take responsibility," Jelly declared.
The logic was sound. Azazel looked to be in terrible shape, and Jelly clicked his tongue.
"Glad to see all that devouring paid off. What a creep."
Was he calling Pudding a creep? As usual, Pudding ignored Jelly’s words completely.
"Wait a moment," Pudding said, before shoving his hand straight into Azazel's open mouth. His arm went deeper and deeper, past the elbow. Azazel thrashed, tears welling in his eyes from the gag reflex. He was the culprit, but somehow, I felt like the villain here.
"Urgh, gag…"
Veins bulged on Azazel's neck as his throat was stretched impossibly wide. Pudding groped around inside as if rummaging through a bag, then grabbed something and yanked it out.
Oh, my god. They say people freeze when they're shocked, and it was true—I couldn't even blink. I was terrified of what Pudding had just pulled out. The long, slender thing in his hand squirmed. Squirmed. It was so goosebump-inducing I wanted to cry. Gabriel, with his nerves of steel, watched the scene unfazed and muttered quietly.
"A snake?"
A snake? At his words, I could finally see the thing in Pudding's hand clearly. It really was a snake. And judging by its triangular head, it was definitely venomous.
"This is Astaroth's true form," Jelly announced.
"Azazel's true form?"
So he wasn't just a beastkin? No wonder Pudding detested him so much. Now that its true form had been removed, Azazel's body went limp on the floor.
"That is an empty shell. So it doesn't matter if we use the body," Pudding explained, pointing first to the venomous snake in his hand, then to the sprawled-out Azazel. "This is the sacrifice. That is the body to transfer into."
I’d sound like absolute trash for saying this, but I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer cost-efficiency. It wasn't even a buy-one-get-one-free deal.
Since the preparations seemed complete, I woke Jeremia. I didn't want to push her while she was in so much pain, but if we didn't act, she'd be resting in peace permanently. I hoped she'd understand.
"…I will make a wish."
When I explained the situation, Jeremia accepted without a hint of surprise. Making a wish to a demon, transferring bodies—was she not shocked at all? Perhaps after everything she’d been through, she simply had no energy left to be surprised.
"…I already made up my mind after hearing from Sir Gabriel. To a demon… no, even if I have to sell my soul to you, please…"
Jeremia couldn't finish her sentence. Canna cautiously approached, checked her pulse, and then shook her head. Her heart had stopped. My own heart sank.
Wait, shouldn't a demon appear for a wish to be made? Why wasn't one showing up? Was the method wrong? In the movies, a demon always appears and asks you to state your wish. Since this was a novel, shouldn't one manifest here, too? Yet, absolutely nothing happened. Had I confidently led her to this, only to give her false hope?
Just as I was about to drown in guilt, the collapsed body of Azazel pushed itself up.
"…Haah."
He took a deep breath, as if a blocked airway had suddenly cleared. Reborn, he finished the words she couldn't.
"To be able to breathe again."
The demon had granted the wish.
*
"This body is beyond saving."
Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jeremia pieced together fragments of a voice. It was measuring how much time she had left before death claimed her. The cold voice pronounced her beyond hope.
I'm dying?
Her breath hitched. Jeremia gasped, denying the reality of her own death.
"I—I don't want to die…"
Ever since she had been taught to uphold her dignity as a princess, this was the first time she had ever clung so desperately to life, begging to be saved. Her attachment to life had made her pathetic.
Suffocating under the weight of her misery, Jeremia struggled against her impending end. But her body, on the verge of death, refused to obey. All she could do was weakly claw at the empty air.
Just then, someone took her hand.
Who is it?
Who could it be, holding the hand of Jeremia, who had been abandoned by both her sister and God? Jeremia forced her eyes open.
Through her barely parted eyelids, she saw an angel clad entirely in white.
Silvery-white threads of hair shimmered, catching the moonlight that poured through the window. Beneath them lay a porcelain-white face.
Jeremia realized the angel’s name was Evangeline. Though they had only crossed paths once at a banquet, it would have been stranger not to remember Evangeline Rohanson. How could anyone forget the moment their entire concept of beauty was rewritten?
Her momentary illusion of seeing an angel was because the girl's features were sculpted with excessive beauty. There is always some imperfection in what God creates. But Evangeline was flawless, as if crafted to embody an ideal desired by humans, not God.
Evangeline smiled faintly at Jeremia. It was beautiful, yet ominous. Because a being not granted life by God was moving of its own accord, simply looking at Evangeline felt sacrilegious.
"Do you want to survive?"
"…Even if it means holding hands with a demon?"
Yet, it was Jeremia herself who had summoned the demon. The demon's skin was as cold as glass, but a faint warmth emanated from the fingertips brushing against hers.
Lady Rohanson…
Was the demon acting so tenderly just to lure a human in?
Jeremia closed her eyes. Knowing this might be the end, the last thing she saw was the Milky Way embroidering the night sky. A voice, sharp and clear, pierced through her fading consciousness.
"If you don't want to die, hold on until I find a way to save you."
Evangeline was scolding her, having noticed her resignation. She was right. Having gone so far as to summon a demon, it would be a waste to fade away now.
"Let's go to the Rohanson Mansion."
Jeremia knew that if she ever opened her eyes again, it would be in the Rohanson Mansion.