Dreams Shine Brightly, Yet Reality is Like the Abyss (1)
Dreams are happiest when you're dreaming them.
...Devro Melrn learned that fact far too early in life. He came to know it all too well.
The Melrn Count's family. His house was a lineage that had continued unbroken since the founding of the kingdom, yet compared to the Edenberts family that had persisted alongside it, his was one that drew little attention. It had endured from the time of the kingdom's founding, and held the rank of count to boot. Yet neither his grandfather nor his father had ever wielded any real influence in politics or business. They had never stood out. No proposals of marriage from esteemed houses had ever come their way. The women who had married into the Melrn family up to now had all been nobles, it was true—but only baronesses or viscountesses, or daughters from fallen houses. Every one of them seemed to carry some unspoken circumstance. That included the current Melrn Count's own mother, who always appeared to be fretting over something.
And he learned the reason for that when he turned ten.
"It's unavoidable, my son."
"This Melrn family bears a most important duty."
It was his father, Jeraf Melrn—who would die young not long after—who told him this with a shadowed face. Claiming he had something truly vital to share, he led the boy, then just ten, down to the underground stone chamber.
A subterranean space the boy had never seen before. There stood a pedestal radiating an ominous aura. Atop it lay a woman covered in wounds, bound fast with rusted chains and all manner of leather restraints, discarded like trash. Her eyes were blindfolded, her mouth gagged. From her head protruded massive goat-like horns.
The tattoo-like script etched densely across her body seemed to be some special incantation that inflicted ceaseless torment and restraint upon her flesh and soul alike.
She was, he was told, a demon from legend—the Demon King's right-hand servant, named ■■■■■.
Demons could still be found aplenty even now. But she was special, they said. Demons were beings who lost their intellect and wandered aimlessly without their head, the Demon King. Yet this one, Mona, retained full intelligence even without her master—and could even serve as the key to reviving the Demon King himself.
It was a tale he'd heard only once as a child, so he couldn't recall it clearly now. But he remembered the terror it instilled. The fear that something might go wrong. That his own mistake might unseal this horrifying demon.
The cowardly Devro Melrn of those days had burst into tears right there on the spot.
"Don't cry. This bitch is nothing but a tool."
"It's no seal a child like you could break. Do you think a binding handed down for centuries would snap so easily?"
Picking up a whip that lay nearby, Jeraf Melrn lashed the immobile demon until blood sprayed, grinning at his son all the while. His eyes mad with fervor, he vented some nameless grudge, whipping her wildly, striking with the handle, even pummeling her with fists. Had his legs been a touch longer, he'd have kicked her too.
In any case, once Jeraf Melrn had demonstrated that the bound demon couldn't stir no matter what she tried, he turned to his trembling son and imparted the duty of the next head of the house. What he must do from here on. The meaning of the demon sealed in this place. The true origin of the status he enjoyed, the food he ate, the bed he slept in.
Thus, at the tender age of ten, Devro Melrn was forced to gaze upon not sparkling dreams, but the filthy, sticky mire of reality.
...Even so.
Even so, even then.
Devro Melrn didn't break from that alone. If it meant becoming a necessary evil, quietly turning a blind eye to the world's storms and living on—that was something he could steel himself for. Accepting the path his father and grandfather and those before had trod was no great burden for one as obedient as he.
'That much, I had no complaints about.'
'That far, it was fine.'
But what truly despaired him. What plunged him into irredeemable ruin.
That was another incident.
Another reason.
It was as if he'd been possessed by the devil himself—
Clunk... screeech...!
Thud, thud...
Thump!
"Hoo..."
Still deep in the night. Having personally carried Emilia to the temporary bedroom he'd prepared for her, the Melrn Count returned to his study and sank into his usual chair, burying himself in it.
Today had been exhausting in all sorts of ways. The day had been busy enough already, and now night brought more troubles demanding his attention.
The silver lining was that physical fatigue was no issue. The more fragments of the Maou's Egg he consumed, the hardier his body grew. He was still in his physical prime; when he had to appear in high society, he even applied makeup to look older.
So bodily weariness was nothing. He could go a week without sleep if needed.
'Emilia... Mona... Mine Hwangnyeo...'
About ten years, perhaps. A plan he'd pondered and refined and obsessed over for that long.
He thought it through once more. Recalled it again.
Would some problem arise somewhere? Would something go awry? Might a tiny distortion somewhere snowball into fatal error?
'Mine Hwangnyeo... no, pointless worries. I did the right thing.'
Drawing Mine Hwangnyeo in as he had was partly because she was one of Emilia's few friends. But the Melrn Count himself had always had his eye on her. Not out of any noble intent, mind you—just a vague 'irritation' with her existence.
In any event, reducing such a woman to a mere puppet slave felt like a waste. So he'd handled her specially, and he had no regrets there.
'It's fine, it's fine. The plan won't fail over one girl... so it's fine.'
What a wicked wench, Mine Hwangnyeo, unsettling his mind like this. Later, he'd punish her relentlessly for it. Subject Mine Hwangnyeo to humiliations beyond her wildest imaginings—
"Ugh...!"
As the Melrn Count inwardly gnawed at thoughts of Mine Hwangnyeo to soothe himself, he suddenly clutched his head and groaned.
He grimaced at the unpleasant sensation crawling from inside his skull. A loathsome revulsion, like bugs skittering through the folds of his brain. It wasn't just his head, either—it spread through his body wherever the Maou's magic and yin energy had eroded him.
"Ah... ah... ugh...! Ah...!"
Thud...! Thud...!
He writhed, pounding the desk and gripping the chair arms with his fists. His clenched hands drew blood as nails dug in; his navy-blue eyes flushed red.
From within came a grinding crack-crack-screech, as if his bones were twisting.
He wanted to collapse to the floor, roll about, and scream. But pride as the count forbade it.
He felt his member stiffen and rise beneath his trousers. Even after spilling inside Mine Hwangnyeo countless times, it reared up fresh and eager.
A side effect of consuming the Maou's Egg. Just as anomalies had appeared in Mine Hwangnyeo's body, unfit for a Hero, so too was the body of the Melrn Count—an ordinary human, neither Hero nor Demon King—unable to remain unscathed.
——He knew.
He knew.
He knew.
He knew his body couldn't go on like this. That it would surely become dangerous.
But even so...
Knock knock.
"Master, pardon the intrusion. I've brought tea and refreshments."
As the Melrn Count sat trying to quell the pain and catch his breath, a knock sounded. Hilde's voice.
...Still working at this hour? He'd ordered her to prepare a room for Emilia to rest, then commanded her to retire immediately after.
He didn't want her seeing him in this savage state, yet he found himself replying, "Come in," before he knew it.
The door opened at once, and Maid Chief Hilde entered with a tray bearing tea and refreshments.
Entering the study, she approached the count with elegant steps, showing no surprise at his pallid face. She set the tea and a plate of sweet cookies before him.
"This is a soothing herbal tea. Not ideal for late nights, but I've prepared sweet treats especially, so please enjoy without worry."
"......"
"And if I may."
The Melrn Count leaned half against the desk, slick with cold sweat, gasping for air. Hilde set down the tea and treats, her expression unchanging, and slipped smoothly between him and the desk.
She leaned in, peeking her face between his legs at his crotch.
"Please, give me your command. If you order it, I shall serve you, my lord Count."
"......Don't you need rest for tomorrow's duties, Hilde?"
"Please, give me your command, Master."
"Enough. In my current state, being served would harm you too. Leave before I make a mistake, Hilde."
"Please, give me your command, Master."
"......"
The Melrn Count sighed in resignation. Hilde's face was impassive, but not emotionless. And no one was more stubborn than her—something even he, as her superior, couldn't break.
Though she was his subordinate. He always lost to this maid chief.
"......Very well, then. If you insist."
"As you command, my Master."
At his reluctant words, Hilde's impassive face curved into a faint smile... as she reached for his trousers and carefully drew out his manhood.
She brought her soft lips close to the vigorously erect shaft, kissed it, then began servicing him deftly with her mouth...