Chapter 193
In the deep night, thick with darkness, even the cries of insects had vanished.
Cheyen liked the night.
Because the stars—usually hidden during the day—could be seen clearly.
Stars, mages, his teacher.
Amid memories worn thin with age, the emotions remained vivid.
Perhaps the good thing about becoming an immortal was that, unbound by the flow of time, he could stay faithful to whatever he felt in the present.
He recalled the time he was shoved deep into some nameless sub-world and sealed away.
It was a group of humans who broke that seal.
They had mindlessly thrown human after human into the abyss until, at last, he awakened.
‘Lead us.’
The bastards of the stars who called themselves black mages.
Chosen by the stars, yet unsatisfied with that power alone. Terrified that they would one day become tainted and die, they wished instead to become stars…
So they awakened him—betrayers of the Magic Tower.
‘How amusing.’
Humans with power wished to become gods.
If they could not be gods, they at least wanted to be immortals.
Ordinary humans would have dismissed such thoughts as delusion, but mages possessed knowledge and ability.
And they had chosen the perfect being to help them.
Cheyen was a manufactured immortal—and within the Magic Tower, he had been called:
‘The Incomplete Mage God.’
Perhaps they had come for him precisely because they knew that truth.
Not that it mattered.
Being awake—whatever form that took—was better than lying sealed forever. If he remained awake, then someday…
He would see his teacher again.
Ah yes, she used a different title now.
The Archmage, Mercedes.
[A yearning star gazes down at you.]
Cheyen smiled sweetly as he gazed up at the first star—the one who watched him from somewhere in the night sky.
“Hello, Teacher?”
Cheyen was a nameless star.
At the same time, he was a dark star that had lost its light, a fallen star.
The star that shattered into dust as it fell became mist and lingered beside him.
That was when he first gained his moniker.
After devouring so many stars, all that remained of his name or records was a single epithet:
“The Nightmare of Stars.”
How he had laughed when he saw that pitiful remnant.
[The brightest star insults you.]
[A dark-burning star curses that it will surely burn you to ash.]
Cheyen listened to the curses of stars whose power was being sucked into him—and smiled.
“Go on, then. If you can.”
* * *
The Halbern estate was always filled with an unpleasant aura.
The barrier spells that pushed out unpermitted visitors or killed intruders were useless against Cheyen.
He had, after all, once stood at the pinnacle of magic.
‘Those were the days.’
His short-lived playacting as a child ended quickly. There was no longer any reason for it.
He approached as moonlight streamed through a wide-open window.
When he let a bit of his energy seep out, the closed eyelids slowly lifted.
“Still not dead yet.”
The heart—normally lively and fluttering rapidly—beat sluggishly today.
It wouldn’t be strange if he died at any moment.
“Did you come to watch me die?”
Arerlin’s voice, rough and low from long sleep, spoke sharply.
No matter how Arerlin tried to sound fierce, his hoarse whispering only made him look like a sick child—sensitive because he hurt.
Cheyen tilted his head, listening, and then chuckled.
“Why would I?”
Humans died so often that he had no need to go out of his way to watch.
Arerlin frowned, then those long, elegant fingers brushed over the soft skin of his own frail arm.
“Humans really are fragile.”
So fragile that even a weak grasp of mist could make them burst apart.
“You say that as if you’re not human.”
“Because I’m not.”
“I see.”
“You’re not surprised?”
“Should I be?”
Cheyen recalled his past and nodded.
“I used to be human.”
“I see.”
“A very long time ago.”
“Ah. Yes.”
He looked at Arerlin’s pale cheeks. The life was draining from them. Cheyen realized his own emotions were clouding. His thoughts grew fuzzy.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“It hurts.”
“You can still feel pain?”
“What, you think I can’t? Are you kidding?”
Arerlin snapped irritably—which only made him cough suddenly.
Cough, cough.
Unable even to sit up, he coughed into his sleeve. Red blood stained the fabric.
Cheyen simply watched.
“Blood…”
Arerlin’s eyes welled with tears as he grabbed his throat, voice rasping.
“Why isn’t anyone coming…?”
“Because I stopped them.”
“To kill me?”
“Why would I?”
He only put everyone else to sleep because their presence annoyed him. He had considered killing them, but he didn’t want Arerlin to hate him—so he merely put them to sleep.
What had he done wrong?
He gazed calmly into the reddened eyes glaring back at him and suddenly wondered what the inside of that little head would look like.
What had he expected?
To have Arerlin beg for his life? Fall to his knees, saying he’d do anything?
He had never imagined Arerlin would instead ask—so casually—whether he had come to watch him die.
Was the boy truly unafraid of death?
“Are you still thinking the same thing?”
He had expected fear.
Arerlin was still a child—surely he had not suffered enough to break that stubbornness. Once he experienced true pain, that stubbornness would fade. Then Cheyen could coax and mold him as he wished.
Or so he had thought…
“What thing?”
Even in the darkness, Arerlin’s eyes glowed faintly pink—not lively, but unbroken.
A will strong enough to stir even the bored, jaded heart of an immortal.
Ah.
Staring into the blazing determination in those eyes, Cheyen realized why he was so obsessed with Arerlin.
He had thought Arerlin was a unique anomaly.
Until he saw those eyes.
You used to have the same eyes as me—so when did you change?
Cheyen remembered the first time they met—the ashes-of-a-burned-world apathy in Arerlin’s gaze.
The look of someone who found everything dull, hateful, and wished the world would vanish.
So how… how had he gained eyes that shone this brightly?
It was strange.
Could a person really change this much?
Or was it because he was human?
“Are you really still planning to just die?”
He wanted it—wanted him.
If Arerlin possessed some unknown power… then maybe he too could be saved.
“Is it not painful? Even if you endure, you’ll gain nothing. You’ll just die soon.”
Cheyen knew very well what the dying feared most—he had once been human.
“When you die, that’s it. Nothing remains. You accomplish nothing. Everything you have disappears. Isn’t it better to cling to life no matter what?”
At his soft whisper, Arerlin’s eyes wavered for the first time.
Yes. That’s more like it.
A gaze wavered by sweet temptation—Cheyen knew that look all too well.
Just a little more… just a little push…
“You don’t want to make the people who love you sad, right? It’s better to live, no matter the method. I’m the only one who cares for you. Just take my hand. I’ll handle everything. Okay?”
Arerlin’s trembling gaze filled with confusion. Cheyen smiled more deeply.
“This is my final offer. Well?”
“……”
“Don’t you want to live?”
You know, don’t you? That you have no other choice.
A small hand trembled upward. Seeing Arerlin reach toward him, Cheyen barely suppressed a laugh of triumph.
Just a bit more… yes, that’s it…
But just before their hands touched—
Smack.
Arerlin slapped Cheyen’s hand away.
“I refuse.”
* * *
Dawn broke with chaos at the Halbern estate. The maid on night duty had urgently summoned the medical team after checking Arerlin’s condition.
Mehen, who had been dozing over paperwork, burst in, along with Uni, Rena, and the entire childcare group.
“His body is burning!”
“Bring the fever reducer!”
“This has never happened before—what on earth?!”
The commotion lasted until sunrise, when Arerlin’s fever finally subsided.
No one understood what had caused it—but the truth was simple: Arerlin’s brief conversation with Cheyen had overloaded his body.
Mehen slumped into a chair, exhausted, watching Arerlin sleep fitfully after hours of suffering.
Then a long shadow fell over him.
“Who…?”
Mehen jerked his head up—and froze.
A pair of golden eyes stared down at him, emotionless.
“Are you this child’s guardian?”
White robes. Countless stars. Pointed ears. Golden eyes.
There was no mistaking the identity of the figure before him.
“How are you here—no, why—?”
Before he could even sort out his emotions, the Archmage Mercedes dropped a bombshell.
“I can save him.”
