Unshakable Loyalty
…….
Ian blinked, unable to comprehend the serpent's words.
The existence called "I." It had been unnecessary for Ian from the start. His body, his mind—everything existed solely for one being.
[Abigail Carpoem.]
“……!”
[You've sworn loyalty to that woman.]
The serpent slithered up Ian's leg, drawing close. It coiled leisurely around his waist, narrowing its eyes in a smirk.
[That's what you are. A being that discards what's no longer needed, clings to it grotesquely, and lives like a puppet.]
“…….”
[Can such a creature even be called a living human?]
The serpent's insidious voice echoed softly through the darkness. For some reason, anyone hearing it would feel compelled to nod in agreement, entranced.
Yet Ian's expression remained utterly unmoved, showing no flicker of emotion. In a flat, indifferent tone, he murmured,
“…It doesn't really matter either way.”
[What?]
The serpent was the one caught off guard instead. It narrowed its eyes, as if verifying that Ian truly meant it.
Ian simply met the serpent's gaze with calm composure.
Just from that look, the serpent saw straight through him—and clicked its tongue.
[Tch, you're out of your mind.]
What remained inside Ian was nothing but scraps. From the moment the serpent had nested within him, his human soul might as well have vanished.
Yet a remnant of soul lingered, enough to animate the body. It should have grown more human-like through learning and living among ordinary people, but this remnant was far too abnormal.
Then again, upon reflection, none of the hosts he'd inhabited had been normal.
[Hmph. Every host I've borrowed has been stark raving mad.]
The serpent shook its head and flicked out its bifurcated tongue. Its eyes gleamed like a predator eyeing prey.
This one didn't seem to care what sort of being it inhabited, but what would its horrific master think? Ordinary humans would find another presence within themselves repulsive.
Expecting to stir other emotions in this emotionless doll, the serpent spoke.
[Even if you don't mind, what about your master?]
“…My master?”
Ian's face clouded over. He recalled Abigail's image.
At first, she'd found him terribly burdensome, unsure how to deal with him.
But when she learned he was half-crippled, unable to control his own power, he'd assumed she'd cast him out. Before cruel words could leave her lips, Ian had knelt first and begged her to dispose of him.
What had she said then? Ian remembered it as vividly as if it were yesterday.
Abigail had accepted him without a second thought. She'd even instructed a senior knight, who had struggled with his clan's power, to train him.
Ian didn't want to disappoint her. So he'd thrown himself into training earnestly, and eventually, he could wield the berserker's power without losing his mind.
Of course, the power he could handle in full control was minuscule. He knew that himself, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Abigail honestly. He didn't want to be deemed useless and sent away from her side.
[What if we lop off one of her arms, like your father's? Could you still stay by her side? Especially when you're not even human?]
“…….”
A gleeful cackle rang in Ian's ears.
Just imagining it made his stomach churn. When he came to his senses, his hands were drenched in blood, his father's terrified eyes stared back at him—and that face overlapped with Abigail's.
“Ugh…….”
[Kekeke.]
The serpent burst into delighted laughter. Ordinary humans were so frail; even a little prodding shattered their minds. This one seemed no different, the serpent thought with narrowed eyes, convinced.
But this remnant of a soul—not quite human—was anything but ordinary.
“…It doesn't matter.”
[Yes, it must hurt, but… what?]
The serpent wondered if it'd misheard.
Ian had lifted his head at some point, his face still impassive.
“A worthless thing like me could never even hurt her.”
Ian, who had stayed by Abigail's side, knew her strength better than anyone. Even if he lost his mind to the berserker's power, she wouldn't go down easily.
He only hoped that if that day came, she'd show no mercy and end him swiftly.
A resolute light burned fiercely in Ian's eyes.
[…You're insane.]
Peering into Ian's mind, the serpent clicked its tongue again.
To share a body with such a lunatic… Grimacing in disgust, it uncoiled irritably.
[Argh, this is ruining my mood! Staying with trash like you will rot my brain too!]
“…….”
Ian blinked at the serpent's sudden outburst and retreat.
And then, a voice called to him.
…Ian!
[Hmph, speak of the devil—your master's calling.]
The serpent spoke indifferently and slithered away. Ian followed without thinking.
He couldn't say why, but it felt wrong to separate from it.
[Birds of a feather, huh. That woman's probably just as crazy.]
“…Don't speak ill of her.”
Ian warned in a chilling tone, sensing the insult to Abigail instantly.
The serpent just snorted dismissively.
[Whatever. Remember this: next time you use my power, you won't control it.]
“…….”
The serpent stopped somewhere and turned.
Ian realized they would part soon.
[You have only one way to survive.]
A faint light shimmered behind where the serpent had paused. Abigail's voice continued to flow from there.
[Devour the main body.]
“The main body…?”
[You'll understand when you meet again.]
With those cryptic words, the serpent vanished without a trace.
The light grew brighter, reaching out to Ian.
[Got it? Don't get eaten again.]
“…….”
The serpent's voice faded like a dream.
But Ian's senses were already drawn to the enveloping light.
[Next time, you eat it.]
As the whisper grew faint, a loud cry engulfed him.
Ian!
* * *
Following the high priest into the room, I was startled. Was it a room? It felt more like a chapel for prayer. Yet too modest for a chapel, too grand for a mere chamber.
“…Ian!”
Ian lay in the center—not on a bed, but on a stone altar. It looked as if he were being offered as a sacrifice in some ritual.
I rushed to his side.
“Ian, wake up!”
“He won't stir like that,” the high priest said in a gruff voice, approaching as well. He still gazed down at Ian with cold eyes.
But his feelings toward Ian didn't matter to me. Waking him did.
I prodded the statue-still priest. “Then how do we wake him?”
“…….”
He stared at me silently. I met his gaze without flinching. I wouldn't back down until he revived Ian.
Finally, he turned away with a faint sigh.
“Hoo, I'll wake him properly, so don't look at me like that.”
“Then get to it.”
Urged on, he extended his hand to me.
Hands? Why? I eyed him suspiciously, and he spoke bluntly.
“Give me the pendant.”
“Huh? Pendant?”
“Yes. Don't you have Fenrir's pendant?”
I nodded and pulled it from my bosom.
“…….”
The black gem pendant remained still. Pell, who used to pop out so brazenly and hover around me, hadn't appeared since leaving the dryad's space.
Pretending it was nothing, I handed it to the priest.
He placed the pendant on Ian's chest and glanced at the darkening sky, murmuring,
“Perfect timing.”
In the north, the sun set early. We waited until it vanished completely.
Northern temples held rituals in darkness, they said.
Soon, the sun was gone. The pitch-black space flickered only with candlelight. In the shadows, Ian looked even more corpse-like and pale.
I gazed down at him anxiously.
Just hold on a little longer, Ian. I'll make sure you open your eyes.
As I whispered inwardly, the approaching priest looked at me with a troubled expression.
“What's wrong?”
“I… apologize, Little Duchess……”
It was odd seeing him hesitate—he'd never been so deferential, even bordering on rude to me, a little duchess.
As suspicion narrowed my eyes, he spoke with difficulty again.
“Forgive me, but… Ian's hand……”
“His hand?”
“Please… hold his hand……”
“Hold his… hand?”
“…Yes.”
His request was a bit absurd, but not impossible. I'd grabbed Ian's hand plenty of times before.
I nodded without hesitation and clasped Ian's hand firmly.
“Like this?”
“…Yes.”
He looked at me—showing no reluctance—with complicated eyes. Ignoring him, I checked Ian's pallid face.
With preparations complete, the priest began a low chant.
“O Knox, god of darkness and martial prowess.”
I let his steady prayer wash over me. It resembled Lumine faith's incantations yet differed.
“Grant these souls the strength to overcome their trials.”
The priest's body began to glow softly. When Yurina used holy power, it burst blindingly; Rald's was like gentle moonlight.
“Here gather three creations of Knox.”
His hand extended toward Ian. Holy power flowed naturally to him—and to me and Pell's pendant, linked to Ian.
“……!”
I gazed in wonder at my own glowing body, like the priest's. Knox's holy power felt warm, like a heating spell.
“By the covenant of creation, let them open their eyes.”