A Cold
"Fuck."
"It's just a hypothesis, at best."
"...No, it's not impossible."
Rowen watched the people from beneath the eaves of a roof. If the day came when they went to war with the demon cult, could these folks even survive?
When the Arkanthia bastards conquered this land, countless people had been sacrificed. They'd met their ends as mere research subjects for magitech.
"We have to protect them."
"Damn right. They're innocent."
"The only guilty ones are the demons. Demons... are beings that shouldn't exist in this world."
A good demon? Sure, they probably existed. At least the ones that didn't harm humans. But did he think they were the majority? No. Good demons were generally weak. In the lawless hell of Pandemonium, weak demons were doomed to die.
Yeah, the weak demons die. What remains are always the ones that prey on humans.
"...Cain comes first, though."
"Indeed."
"I don't know what Kalia Rune thinks, but we'll have to talk to their leaders."
"A coalition?"
"Yes. They'll agree with me. Arkanthia, that demon-infested pit, is a threat everywhere it spreads."
"I'll go speak to them."
"You will?"
"Yeah."
Rowen expressed his gratitude to Lucius. He had a headache from the growing pile of tasks, so this was a relief.
Thanks to this battle, the North had regained its freedom. Sure, some Arkanthia scum lingered in the lower regions, but the unit following Arahan was mopping them up.
"It's about time."
The Soul Spring. And the Holy Sword. The sources of both powers were right before him. If he could harness them, victory against the demon cult was more than possible.
By his deductions, there were definitely seven demon cults. He didn't know where they hid. But one thing was certain: they'd all die by his hand anyway. They'd be engulfed in surging blue flames and shatter in ice.
Please let it be so.
"So, when do you plan to depart?"
"Eager to get rid of me already?"
"You're ditching me without even protecting me from Arahan, whining about how precious my life is while running away. Why should I stick around with you?"
"...Didn't you call me a bastard last time?"
"Yes. I did. You're an unpredictable bastard, a moron with no loyalty—a total piece of trash."
"Ugh..."
"...But I'm counting on you, in my own way."
Rowen clapped Lucius on the shoulder. He flashed a bright smile at his friend, who was about to leave.
"Don't take it too hard. Hurry back. The more allies we gain quickly, the better off we are."
"...Got it."
"Feeling salty?"
"No. I'm not salty or upset at all."
"You're pouting."
"I'm not."
"You totally are. Why deny it?"
"...Your speech is starting to sound like Arahan's."
Was it? Rowen blinked in confusion for a moment. Lucius just laughed at him.
They climbed down from the roof and walked the streets. An old woman hawked cheap fruits on a roadside stand, piled atop a frozen chair. Icicles dangled long from an ancient cart. It had been so long since he'd seen such sights—Rowen couldn't hide his satisfaction.
"Once Cain's situation is resolved, we'll all head back to Snowfall together."
"Back? You're not staying here?"
"I need to find the Holy Sword."
"...The Holy Sword?"
"You don't know the blade of the great knight, Rian Rose?"
"I do. That's why I'm asking."
"Rian used it to seal Belzebub, but at least part of it is said to be in Rian Rose's tomb."
"What does that have to do with you?"
"I need the Holy Sword. I can't tell you everything, but it's definitely something I have to find right now."
"I have no idea what you're talking about..."
Rowen burst out laughing. Of course he didn't know. Who would believe him if he spilled that he'd been reincarnated? They'd call him crazy, accuse him of slandering the dead. Arahan was a special case. Or maybe it was her overflowing obsession and love for Rowen from the start. Mio had eyes that could see the truth, so she'd pierced his identity. But Lucius? Just an adult now, still a young man. It was no wonder he couldn't make sense of Rowen's ramblings.
"Whatever. If that sword helps you, fine."
"Wise words."
Rowen and Lucius kept walking. They bought a couple of fruits from the old woman, each popping one into their mouth. The crisp texture and sweet flavor filled their senses. They wandered the streets for a bit until the sky began to darken, then returned to the castle.
The Ice Throne. A massive audience chamber where that blue, transparent frozen seat dominated the view. Beyond its grand doors stretched a corridor lined with countless rooms. Knights patrolled it, their shoulders squared rigidly, as if making an example for someone.
In one of those rooms off to the side was Arahan.
"Are you alright?"
"...Does this look alright to you?"
"No. Your face is beet red—you don't look like a king at all."
"You should at least pretend to worry."
Cough! A cough burst from Rowen's mouth. Maybe from wandering the streets with Lucius last night until evening... he'd caught a cold.
Arahan tucked him in with a blanket and tended to him meticulously. She stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and set them aside. She wiped his sweat with a damp cloth. Her cheeks felt a little flushed.
"...Arahan?"
"Ah, it's nothing."
"Mm... If it's too much, don't push yourself. I can manage—"
"No. This is something I must do."
"Must? I never imposed that kind of duty on you."
"Young master. Have you forgotten? I'm your maid. Your servant and attendant. Everything I have belongs to you, my very existence is for you, so I must stay by your—"
"Ah, I get it. Just... stop staring so intently."
Arahan smiled seductively.
"Hehe, are you embarrassed?"
"I'm not embarrassed."
"Then why can't you meet my eyes?"
"...Stop teasing me."
"Or are you getting excited just looking at me?"
"Arahan...!"
"Young master, you're so lewd. The night before last, you were like that too..."
"That was because you forced it!"
Arahan covered her mouth with one hand and giggled. Rowen's reactions were just too fun. She could tease him because she loved him. It was childish, like something little boys did, but she couldn't help it. In front of Rowen, her actions came naturally no matter how she tried to hold back. To stay by his side any way she could, to say even one more word. Arahan always watched Rowen, talked to him, felt him. She loved him from the depths of her heart, unaware if it bordered on obsession.
Arahan sat demurely beside him.
"Your reactions are so cute, I couldn't help myself... hehe."
She placed a hand on his forehead. It didn't feel hot enough by touch. No, it was definitely burning. But like this, she couldn't cling to him. When Rowen tried to turn away, she made him face her. If he saw her face now, she'd die of embarrassment. She wanted to pounce, inhaling his scent, but... for later, she'd hold back a little. His shirt was insurance for that.
"Young master. Rest well tonight."
"I have so much to do."
"That's for Mio—that wench... no, Lady Mio to handle."
"But..."
"You need to listen to your elders in times like this."
"Feels like I've lived longer than you."
"Tsk. That doesn't work on me. Age is age. Whether yours is more or less isn't my concern."
On the contrary.
"I've adored you since before I knew of your past life. Think that excuse will fly now?"
"...Ugh."
"Hehe, so rest a bit. It'll cure your cold faster. Or... there's an even better way."
Arahan glanced at him coyly. It was embarrassing to think about. But if she could use this chance to sway his heart...
Rowen, oblivious to her intentions, nodded.
"It'll heal me quicker?"
"...Yes."
"Then don't keep me waiting—do it."
"It might feel a little hot."
"Doesn't matter."
"W-well then..."
Arahan gently laid Rowen down. Then, forehead to forehead. Warm—no, scorching heat transferred directly.
"You're burning up..."
"Obviously. I've got a cold..."
So close their lips might brush. Arahan seized the moment, lowering her head slowly.
"Arahan...?"
"Shh."
Their lips met. The soft touch of tongues transmitted fully. Saliva mixed and flowed; Arahan savored the instant.
"Pha...!"
Their mouths parted, breaths escaping in a rush. But only for a moment. Smack. A light kiss followed. Without separating, they felt each other's tongues. Arahan hugged him tighter in ecstasy, licking his saliva before kissing again. A lover's kiss. Deep down, she wished Rowen would recognize her true feelings.
"W-what are you doing?!"
"Sharing your cold. Hehe, this should cure it faster."
"...You're joking, right?"
"Does it look like a joke?"
Arahan lay beside him. She turned his averted face to meet hers. Her hands gently caressed his cheeks. His face was incredibly red. Not from the cold yet, but Arahan's was flushed like Rowen's too. Or perhaps it was the mix of shyness, awkwardness, and excitement they both felt.
"I'm embarrassed too... This unusual situation makes me shy."
"...Arahan."
Every time Arahan had pounced before, there had been kisses. But none this tender and heartfelt. Was it because Rowen was sick? His mind felt a bit hazy.
"Arahan, I..."
"You don't have to answer now."
"...Sorry."
"Why apologize? I haven't been rejected yet. You've just postponed your answer."
So.
"Don't make that face. Just focus on getting over this cold for now."
Their lips met again. More carefully, more sweetly than before. It looked like Arahan straddling and pinning him, but now Rowen's hands rested on her back too.
"If that redheaded wench Mio bothers you, ignore her."
"...What?"
"I know. You can't accept me because that bitch confessed too."
"...Yeah."
"That's the problem. You're too damn attractive. That vixen in heat won't let go."
"What the hell...!"
"That's why I trust you, young master."
Someday, surely.
"I believe you'll choose me."
Rowen couldn't continue. Her expression, her blue eyes, her black hair—they were all too lovable, too endearing. His head spun. Could he follow his feelings? Was it right to abandon his past life's bond? Amid that turmoil, Arahan extended her hand.
"Don't think. Just feel me."
And so, the next day...
...Arahan caught a cold, and Rowen was completely cured.