Chapter 32
“…Ha.”
“Ahaha.”
A hollow laugh escaped me. He laughed too.
But the air between us was tightening—thick and tense.
Still, that was fine. For now, it was fine.
Because I had a rough idea—of how to control this two‑faced demon.
I softly called the name he had chosen for himself.
“Terion.”
“Yes?”
He answered lazily, lowering his eyelids slightly as he looked at me with a perfectly arranged expression.
It was as if he were saying: If you’ve got something to say, go ahead.
Something to say, huh. Yes, I did have something to say. Something I believed in.
‘Even if I don’t know why…’
“You said you didn’t want me to hate you, didn’t you?”
He had said that—clearly. That he didn’t want to be hated by me.
His cheek, which had been tilting slowly toward me, froze in place.
“Ah…”
He let out a sigh—half‑understanding, half‑confused.
Then he smiled brightly, brushing the strands of hair from his eyes. The smile looked genuinely happy.
“You catch on quickly…”
“You practically made it obvious,” I said dryly.
“Still… you’re brave. You don’t know when my feelings might change.”
He was right.
If my fate could be flipped over at the whim of his fleeting curiosity, then we were never standing on equal ground to begin with.
Just as he had placed me on his lap like a doll.
‘The beginning matters most.’
At this rate, I would never amount to anything.
“……?”
I pried his hand off me—the one that stubbornly held me—and stepped down to the floor.
I staggered for a moment, losing balance, but steadied myself against the altar.
Pressing a hand to my dizzy forehead, I looked up at him again.
“Terion. You understand this curse well, don’t you?”
“…Yes. I know it very well.”
My lips curved upward on their own.
“Then… haven’t you ever thought of this?”
“…Thought of what?”
…Ugh. I hated this part. It was going to hurt.
“If I’ve already gone through hundreds of regressions—if I’m still alive because I can’t die…”
I brushed my hand across the altar. My eyes lingered on the faint markings glowing along my wrist, etched into the stone beneath it.
The stone was solid. That was all I needed to confirm my resolve.
“Then maybe I wouldn’t care if I had to die a few hundred more times—because of you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and slammed my head down against the altar.
“……”
No sound. No pain. Nothing.
For a moment, I thought—Is this what true death feels like?
“…Haah.”
A faint sigh escaped Rimos Terion.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw that he had lifted me into the air with magic.
“…Haha.”
He had stopped my death.
That confirmed it.
I smiled—brightly—and reached out through the air, grabbing him by the collar.
“How many lives of mine are you planning to follow just to get in my way?”
Since I was floating, I was taller than him now. It was easy to seize his collar.
He looked up at me blankly.
“…You’re clever.”
“I’ve lived hundreds of lives.”
‘Yes. Hundreds of them.’
If this demon could freely cross timelines or dimensions at will—
He would have taken back the curse long before I reached even a fraction of those regressions.
Or, even now—he could simply reclaim it since he already knew I had it.
‘But he didn’t.’
There must be heavy restrictions—he couldn’t go back to the past, nor follow me across regressions freely.
He himself had said it once: that he could only return to the past because of the extraordinary causality bound within this curse.
I steadied my racing heart and spoke firmly, without stepping back.
“So, if I die here and move on to my next regression… I’ll find a way to kill myself faster than you can find me.”
The smile vanished from his face.
“…Lady Edith.”
He reached out carefully, placing a hand on my shoulder, lowering me to the ground as he whispered gloomily.
He had looked so pleased just moments ago—why the sudden shift?
‘Did I provoke him too much?’
He didn’t even seem to care that his collar was still in my grip. Once I was down, he said quietly:
“Then I suppose I have no role at all.”
His voice, muttering about how unnecessary he was, carried a strange, sticky bitterness.
…But he wasn’t wrong.
“Yes, Rimos Terion. You have no role in my life.”
“……”
He looked pained—like someone wounded by cruel words from someone dear. The oppressive weight around my shoulders lifted.
…Why did he make that kind of face?
‘…Ha.’
Even knowing it was all an act, I couldn’t stop myself from biting back the words I hadn’t meant to say.
“For now.”
“…And after?”
“After the contract, things will be different somehow.”
After all, he was the only link between me and this curse found in the caverns.
Using him was the only way to deal with the monsters still lurking outside.
‘As long as the priests don’t find out.’
I’d already been pretending to be a holy mage, even faking divine healing—so I’d just have to keep up the act.
I reached out a hand to him.
“So let’s do it. The contract.”
“……”
Terion, who had once grabbed my hand without hesitation, now blushed faintly and gently enclosed my extended hand between both of his.
My blood‑soaked, tattered hand disappeared within his clean, untarnished grip.
“May I… make the contract?”
‘Since when did you start asking for permission?’
Still, his demeanor was oddly delicate; there was nothing to gain from mocking it. So I let it go.
“Yes. As I said before—there’s one more condition. Respect me.”
I held his gaze, emphasizing each word. He nodded softly, lips curling faintly.
“You’re a human worthy of reverence.”
‘No, respect, not reverence…’
Before I could correct him, Terion lifted our joined hands toward his lips.
“I, ■■■■■, as an unspeakable demon of the unknown…”
From his mouth flowed sounds no human could pronounce or comprehend—something far too strange even to be called a language.
“…swear to remain by Edith Crowell’s side through this lifetime, to aid her in ending the curse, and to honor her.”
He turned his eyes toward me without moving his head. I nodded once.
“…Fine.”
“In return, Edith Crowell—you will show me the countless memories that no one else in this world could ever know.”
As Rimos Terion spoke, the darkness around us deepened.
“I want to be the only one to share your mystery.”
By the time he finished his final words, even the light of the lamps had been devoured by the dark. Only his voice—and the cold breath brushing against my fingers—remained.
Without hesitation, I said:
“…Yes, let’s make the contract.”
It was instant.
A chill, solid as ice, surged from my fingertips and spread through my body.
My limbs stiffened. My shoulders grew heavy.
It felt like the darkness itself was crushing me.
But I couldn’t lose consciousness now—not after coming this far.
Barely managing to move my lips, I spoke:
“My first request. Clear out the monsters infesting this gorge.”
“Of course. Since we’ve made our contract, you should learn just how useful I can be.”
In the dark, something shimmered faintly—perhaps a trace of light, or maybe the glimmer of his purple eyes as he smiled.
Meanwhile, from where our hands were joined, pain spread like shards of ice clawing through my bones.
“Ugh…”
I bent over in agony.
He only tightened his grip, as if telling me to endure it—and then…
“…?”
He bit my fingertip.
What the—disgusting. The shock almost made me forget the pain.
His gentle voice came from the darkness.
“It’s been a long time since I looked forward to a feast.”
“…A feast?”
I learned later that when demons say “feast,” they mean the fulfillment of a contract.
If I’d known that then, I might have at least prepared myself.
“……!”
The next moment, I realized that what I had seen before—the darkness I thought I knew—had only been a dim imitation.
Because the true darkness—shapeless, absolute—came surging like a tide and swallowed me whole.
And everything went black.
