Chapter 60
Her body had been flung to the floor as if she’d rolled there and briefly lost consciousness.
In front of her was a boy.
The boy, frantic with the terror of having lost his only world, the boy who was about to run wild because he couldn’t bear the loss—where had that bright, awkward smile gone? He cried bitterly, tears streaming, his pupils rolled back, standing cold and hard before his dying mother.
And before them, teeth clenched, stood the Emperor, sword drawn.
Esther’s eyes slowly flushed red.
She rose from where she sat and stepped toward Siderius.
Black magic crackled violently around them.
Thud— thud— thud—
The rapid beat of her heart made the sounds around her seem far away.
“Don’t go near it. It’s about to berserk.”
“Humans are strange.”
“What?”
“When a human baby cries, do they usually draw a sword to calm it down?”
Esther approached slowly.
She’d been called a monster more than once.
But she hadn’t been a monster from the start. She hadn’t been a cruel demon or the seed of a demon lord from birth.
Esther had been like this because when she was born, the world was already hell—flames on every side.
To survive, she had to trample something, to stamp out the fires even with corpses, to keep moving forward.
Are monsters monsters from the start?
Are they born without feelings, destined to be monsters?
Were they demons, fiends from the very beginning?
When others treat you contemptuously and neglect you when you’re lacking, emotions pile up and tangle.
So this—this was tenderness learned from just one person.
The cruel man who saved her, and who, in saving her, made her a demon lord.
Esther opened her short arms wide and stood in front of Siderius.
‘Ah—maybe that’s why I find myself missing that man’s embrace,’ she thought.
Being held in that embrace was warmer than she had expected.
Esther threw herself into Siderius with all her strength.
With his small frame, Siderius was actually quite large to hold.
But perhaps even that small embrace was enough; Siderius, whose eyes had rolled back and who’d been crying so piteously, shuddered violently.
“You can cry.”
“Huh… snif… Es- Esther… m- my mother….”
“Yeah.”
“If I had never been born….”
A voice soaked in sorrow echoed.
“I… I should have died instead….”
She asked Siderius whether he wanted to live. She told him he was strong. But he didn’t believe it.
“Waaaaaah!”
Like a child, Siderius burst into loud sobs.
He looked so much like an ordinary boy that the watching Emperor unknowingly lowered the arm holding his sword.
That heartrending cry, which had made the Emperor draw his blade as if to stop a berserk, only now made him feel empty.
He’d meant to wait to the very last moment, and if the boy truly didn’t calm down, he would have cut him down.
“Do humans—when another human’s child cries—usually draw a sword to soothe them?”
The Emperor realized a beat too late what the child’s earlier words had meant.
“Esther….”
“Yeah.”
“I want to die….”
Siderius said in a voice like torn rags, as if it might break at any moment.
A black exclamation mark appeared above his head, and then a parchment manifested before them.
[The despair of one who has lost the world.
They desire nothing but death.
They search only for a way to die.
The homunculus born in a flask knew misery before it learned happiness, cold before it felt warmth, and desired death more than life.
His world has vanished.
The flask that imprisoned him shattered into pieces.]
Esther tore her gaze away from the parchment.
She hated, with a burning loathing, that this rotten ending always required someone to die.
“Live.”
Esther said.
“I don’t want to… I don’t want to….”
At his sulky, whining voice, Esther seized Siderius by the scruff and gently lowered him.
“Live, and make a contract with me.”
At Esther’s words, Siderius’s eyes lit up like little lanterns.
“What…?”
“If you become crown prince, you’ll make a contract with me. I will become the Demon Lord. You will become the Emperor. We’ll take revenge together.”
She spoke, and a strange light seeped from her crooked, red eyes.
Siderius’s eyes widened.
“Sid—do you know this?”
“Know what…?”
“To help people like you and Lila, you need power and authority.”
“But—”
“Look, right now you’re powerless.”
Not only Esther, but Siderius too was powerless.
Because they were powerless, they could only stand by and watch their world be torn away.
If they hated that, they simply had to grow strong. If they ascended to the highest throne, everything would follow—money, power, honor, strength.
To give or to take life, in the end, you needed power.
“I’ll make you the king of humans.”
“…But I’m a monster….”
“Sid, you’re not a monster.”
A homunculus with emotions—no one had ever heard of such a thing.
Originally, they were fragile, helpless beings born in flasks.
They became only a little stronger through chimera synthesis.
But Siderius had been carried in a human belly. He had been loved, gestated for ten months.
So in truth he was closer to human than to monster: a human with the power of a homunculus.
“Even if you were a monster—if you became king and declared yourself human, you’d be human.”
Esther said.
“How about it?”
“If I become your contractor… will you be by my side? Will you stay by my side?”
“Uh… hm… I guess so?”
“Are there many contractors…?”
“Not right now…?”
“…So I’m the only one.”
At those loaded words, Esther’s expression flickered.
‘That’s true enough…’
For some reason she couldn’t shake a strange feeling.
“You’re all I have now. You said you were my only ally… you only have me, right…?”
Siderius rested his forehead against Esther’s small chest and muttered.
Esther tilted her head slightly.
Is he saying he has only her as a contractor? It’s rare for humans to be contractors, after all.
She nodded.
Siderius’s cheeks flushed and then he pressed his face into Esther’s shoulder.
“…Okay. I’ll try my best.”
He whispered very quietly through swollen eyes.
No sooner had the boy finished speaking than the black exclamation mark above his head shattered and disappeared.
‘…It’s gone.’
That meant he had abandoned his wish to die.
[For greater rewards.
By refusing a commission someone requested, you have altered a great fate.
It was admirable to give up the tempting flower before you for the fruit that will bear after the bloom has fallen!
A large curse will be granted to you!]
Esther’s eyes widened at the unexpected boon.
‘How much returned?’
As the thought finished, a parchment spread out before her.
[Haegu (Favor) Completion: 18.8%]
She had gained over five percent at once.
Esther gaped. It felt like an even bigger boon than completing the black-exclamation quest.
‘…What the—?’
Maybe it would have been faster to simply change minds, she thought wryly.
Esther let out a hollow laugh and looked down at Siderius, who was buried in her arms with a tear-streaked face.
Behind her, she felt the Emperor’s incredulous gaze. One clear thing: she wanted, above all, to go home.
And that day, Esther brought home a forlorn little wolf of a boy.
It was the sort of thing that made one want to grab the Emperor by the collar and shake him—stunning, speech-stopping behavior.
Esther returned with the Emperor’s illegitimate child tucked at her side and proceeded to shower Marie Egbert and Ernhart Egbert with cuteness.
They didn’t seem keen on Siderius coming into their household.
When she told them the Emperor had asked her to look after him for a while, they insisted they would take Siderius somewhere else.
“Esther?”
“I’ll behave and come pick him up soon. You and I, we’ll be strong.”
“No, I want to stay by your side….”
“You’ll see him again soon. Wait.”
Although Siderius looked displeased, he obediently followed the duke away.
And Esther was placed under house arrest—no going out.
‘I’m exhausted.’
Honestly, it had been a day of too many shocks.
Unexpected failures, strange abilities, and the sudden burden of Siderius.
If it had ended there, maybe a short rest would have fixed her fatigue.
But as soon as she lay down, a string of uninvited guests burst in roughly through the door, and instead of relaxing, she felt even more weary.
“Hey! You!”
Not just one—there were a whole crowd.
“Hey, you!”
“Uncle, move aside! We came first!”
Nigel Egbert and Dylan Egbert. Behind them sighed Aaron Egbert.
“Tch, don’t you know adults come first? It’s probably not that important anyway—step back. I have very important business.”
“I’m important too, you know?! Uncle, I heard you’ve been collapsing wherever you go lately; isn’t it better you stay home?”
And those idiots, paying no mind to their ages, started bickering among themselves.
