The Jealousy That Rose Up
The word *reolin* referred to the scales on a dragon’s back that faced the wrong way. The legend went that touching them provoked the dragon’s wrath.
Apply the same idea to a person and you had a sensitive topic or a weakness that could never be lightly touched.
These days it was often called a trigger button.
What Edgar had done—pressing it over and over—had been exactly Megus’s trigger button.
After a journey that had left him to root out the source of death itself, Megus had looked at him with disgust.
Her eyes had carried the same disappointment she had shown all along.
And the jealousy that had burned from the inferiority she had always hidden beneath… had finally erupted.
“Megus. Why did you do that? I understand you’re angry, but… rushing in like that out of nowhere…”
Olivia, seated to Megus’s left, asked with genuine pity in her voice.
She was the same as ever—voice rising when she was furious—but she had never seen her charge lose control like this.
The pity in her tone hid something else as well.
“I understand why you’re angry that your honor has been besmirched. But… as Olivia said, the feeling wasn’t as deep as it seemed.”
Riel, standing guard on Megus’s right, felt exactly the same.
She, too, had never doubted Megus’s pride in her warrior’s reputation. Yet what she had done minutes ago had crossed a line.
She had no choice but to speak up.
“Could there… have been another reason?”
Laura asked, locking eyes with Megus directly.
The shock of the moment had wiped away even her usual melancholy.
Her hands trembled as she stared with hollow eyes, and that sight was far too grave.
“…No. Nothing. I’m sorry.”
Megus clenched her twitching hands and pushed herself up.
Not a single word of explanation. Just the single apology.
The grip that had gone limp from fatigue was already returning to normal.
No one in the party knew what had happened to Megus in the past.
They only knew the excuse she had always given: that her home life was stifling, that she resented the dead, and that she had run away like a headstrong young lady.
But today they had all discovered that it was not the whole truth.
“Not yet,” Laura said, taking Megus’s hand and helping her rise. “We accomplished our goal—knowing where he is. We can withdraw for now.”
As she said it, the two women helping Megus up shared the same thought.
Megus alone, her mind still as white as snow, remained trapped in shock.
“Ah… ugh…”
The moment the seeker party drew near, Hans’s mouth fell open.
The atmosphere was too grave for him to ask what had happened.
The others had been standing some distance away; he could not have heard any of their conversation.
He had only seen Megus lunge forward and fail.
“Mount up.”
It was best not to provoke him right now.
Hans had followed his own survival instinct.
It had been lucky for him, and it had been merciful to the party as well.
The tension had been unbearable already.
Seekers were strong, but they were not invincible. They could kneel.
Hans had seen that reality with his own eyes and felt it on his skin.
“Move out!”
Hans’s voice rang out, and the wagons began rolling toward Paestum one after another.
The drivers swallowed dryly, gripped by the same terrible tension.
Any careless word could be the last.
The gloom surrounding Megus was oppressive.
In that gloom lurked something sharp as a blade.
“Ugh…”
When the sound of hooves and wheels had faded for some time, Megus let out a deep sigh.
Even the empty gaze had regained its usual strength.
Just like before.
“I’m sorry. Everything got tangled up because of me.”
She bowed her head toward the party so quickly it looked painful.
The remorse in her voice was genuine, not some casual apology.
The others’ frozen expressions softened a little because of it.
“Now you seem calmer. Thank goodness.”
Laura spoke as leader, and the others nodded without a word.
They had felt the same.
“But why did you do it? I understand your anger at the word ‘disgusting,’ but…”
Riel asked, trailing off. A shadow of sadness crossed Megus’s face.
“I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I did it…”
“You don’t know?”
“The rage at ‘disgusting’ was real… but it wasn’t only that. I can’t say anything else right now.”
Megus lowered her head, truly bewildered.
Riel found the evasion frustrating, yet the sincerity of the apology was clear.
For Riel, who wanted to know the real reason, it was maddening.
Still, she let it pass.
Everyone had a few things they could never bring themselves to say.
“Fortunately, Megus seems to have come back to herself… Shall we talk about what comes next?”
Olivia spoke up quietly. The party’s gazes turned toward her lips.
Olivia cleared her throat several times, clearly uncomfortable with the attention.
“Ugh… I don’t mean to blame Megus, but the situation has become strangely twisted. We learned the truth about the curse, yet… it’s not a pleasant situation to resolve the grudge.”
The moment Olivia’s words left her lips, Megus lowered her head again.
She had no right to speak when she was the one who had caused this.
“Still, we must acknowledge our own mistakes and seek proper forgiveness. You cannot simply brush it aside—God would not forgive that.”
Laura, raised in the temple, mentioned God naturally.
The others felt the same.
The lingering guilt and sins were too heavy to dismiss with “just forgive us.”
They could not carry such guilt for the rest of their lives, nor were they bold enough to look away.
If they had been perfectly selfish to the end, they would not have suffered this pain.
But for now, there was no clear answer.
So they drifted in meaningless sighs.
Olivia spoke in a tone that felt prickly.
“The pink-haired woman at the inn… that horned race must be her.”
“Mm… I suppose that information was mentioned as well.”
Riel nodded, playing along with the story, then tilted her head.
“But how did a horned race enter Paestum? Even if her face was hidden, it would have been hard to avoid the guards entirely…”
“Probably paid them off. The guards were desperate.”
The kingdom was in chaos, its lands leaderless, its people impoverished. Black markets were inevitable in such times.
Many countries were desperately trying to solve the crisis, but progress was slow.
Destruction came in an instant, yet building something lasting required endless time.
Worse still, certain factions were actively undermining the effort from the shadows…
Laura and Megus both nodded in quiet sorrow, each having seen the same grim reality.
“Yes. That does worry me… but let’s leave that for later. I wasn’t going to say anything, but right now…”
“Yes. First, we need a way to meet that man again.”
Megus tried to steer the conversation away, and Olivia followed her lead.
They could discuss later how and why Freesia had come to Paestum.
For them now, something far more important existed.
How to atone for this fatal and colossal mistake.
Megus’s troubled gaze turned beyond the horizon, toward the direction where Edgar lay.
*
*Being taken care of feels strangely good…*
Thanks to the magic she had used for the first time in a long while, she felt oddly refreshed.
When the seeker had lunged at her like a beast, she had wondered what was wrong with him.
But anyway.
Freesia glanced sideways at Edgar, then turned her gaze in the same direction and spoke.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Huh? Yes. Go ahead.”
*What is it?*
Edgar answered quickly, eager to hear whatever she had to say.
“It’s not about anything else… Were you really that close to those people?”
“Well… I thought you already knew everything about them…”
*Would I have gotten along with them?*
Edgar expressed the meaning indirectly, and Freesia understood it perfectly.
Of course she already knew Edgar could never be close to them.
Still, she could not stay silent.
It was almost impossible to grow truly angry at someone who felt nothing.
“Indeed, from beginning to end it was all so serious. It looked incredibly complicated.”
“Hmm…”
Edgar paused, then recalled the past.
Carefully, thoroughly, even from the very beginning.
“At first, things weren’t bad between us. You could even say we were getting along.”
“Really?”
“Yes. At that time the curse building up in my body was still weak, and I was receiving temple blessings as well.”
Then, once the early phase passed and the middle phase arrived, the amount of curse that accumulated on the body increased rapidly.
Not the legendary boss-grade curse, but even the named-grade curse of a wandering undead was no small matter.
“So I couldn’t exert myself. Just walking made me short of breath. Helping in that state was insane—it would only trip me up.”
“It must have been very precious to you back then.”
“Probably. When my body was fine…”
Edgar swallowed the words.
Instead he spoke of how things had been then.
It was the first time he was revealing this.
Precious.
Freesia felt a strange pang in her heart despite the question.
The story of sacrificing for the others flowed smoothly, yet something else stung.
“Then… how much could you do for me?”
Perhaps that was why.
Freesia’s question came out unintentionally, carrying a hint of displeasure.
But the instant she asked it, she was startled by what she had said.
She wondered how she could smooth it over.
She wanted to gloss over it quickly, yet the words would not come.
She grew anxious.
In the midst of Freesia’s eyes swirling with confusion, Edgar answered in an utterly calm voice, as if stating the most obvious truth.
“Umm… everything except telling you to die, I suppose.”
Everything.
The moment the words left his mouth, the grievance that had sprouted in Freesia’s heart vanished like melting snow.
Even the chaos in her head disappeared without a trace.
Everything.
That single word kept echoing in Freesia’s mind.
Strong enough to decide the direction she would take going forward.