Chapter 82
Holding the same hope, Karnen and Elenon moved swiftly. Karnen urgently sent a letter to the orphanage where her friend had grown up, while Elenon hurried to the train station.
Elenon checked the only train station in the capital and all the carriage rental offices, but there was no sign that Noxia Decan had left the city by train or carriage.
But being unable to confirm that Noxia was somewhere in the capital was hardly reassuring news either.
In this vast capital, where on earth could she be? And why had she gone there in the first place? Was it her own will? Did she have some reason? Or had someone forced her?
Why had she disappeared without a word to her only lover and her closest friend, even going so far as to be absent from work without notice? Guessing the tragic answer was not that difficult.
‘Was she kidnapped by someone? If so, why?’
There was also the possibility that Noxia had become the target of random crime.
In this large city, just as there were countless good people, there were countless bad people, and some of them were perpetrators of all kinds of vile crimes.
The thought that Noxia, returning home late at night, might have encountered a robber, had her valuables stolen, and might now be a corpse dumped somewhere made Karnen’s face go pale.
‘No, she’s definitely alive. If she were dead, her body would have been found.’
Karnen bit her lips as if trying to convince herself, repeating the thought desperately.
Apart from having grown numb to death after repeated reincarnations, she sincerely hoped that the kind friend she had made in this life had not met such a horrific end.
However, being certain that Noxia was alive did not make her feel much better.
When she considered the possibility that Noxia was imprisoned somewhere while still alive, she felt her blood boil and her head heat up.
‘If someone really kidnapped and confined her, then why? For what purpose?’
What could anyone possibly gain by kidnapping a commoner orphan with no notable assets? It wasn’t like they could demand a huge ransom, and she wasn’t a political heavyweight either…
‘…Could it be because of the Second Prince?’
At that moment, space and time seemed to freeze, and Karnen, sitting alone in the room, felt her heart drop.
The being called Jade—no, Promeon—appeared silently in the blink of an eye.
He stood still like a pine tree in midwinter, looking down at Karnen, and Karnen had an instinctive feeling that even if she screamed in surprise, no one in this house would hear her.
“Promeon.”
Karnen whispered. The pressure pouring from his expressionless gaze was overwhelming, and even squeezing out her voice made her heart pound violently.
Promeon did not speak for a while. He simply stood there without even making a sound, staring straight into Karnen’s eyes.
Karnen, who had been staring back at him without blinking like a mouse frozen before a snake, realized what he was doing and sharply inhaled.
“Are you reading my memories?”
As she demanded in shock, Promeon blinked once. Ignoring her question, he muttered indifferently.
“Honestly, I can’t take my eyes off you for even a moment. Even when I try to keep my distance, people around us keep interfering.”
Karnen trembled. If Promeon had shown obvious anger or despair, she could have dealt with it, but that blank expression made her even more afraid because she couldn’t grasp the abyss hidden beneath it.
“Thank you for cooperating, Pellene. Even though it wasn’t your will.”
After sincerely greeting her without a hint of mockery, Promeon turned, his long coat fluttering. But before he completely disappeared into the darkness, Karnen snapped back to her senses and called out to him.
“Wait, hold on!”
When she shouted, he paused. Promeon slowly turned back to her.
His gaze, which at first glance seemed extremely calm and even indifferent, pierced deeply into Karnen. She suddenly felt short of breath, and that obvious physical reaction embarrassed her.
‘Seriously, even at a time like this…!’
Another shame followed. In a situation where her closest friend in this life had disappeared and her friend from a previous life might soon do something unpredictable, she…
‘Whether god or human, what does any of that matter right now?’
Originally, Karnen was a god and Promeon was a human. Their very nature of existence was different from the start.
So no matter how extraordinary Promeon was as a human, he shouldn’t have been able to exude such suffocating pressure just by looking at someone.
But now, Promeon was choking others without any particular intent, and Karnen felt ashamed of that fact—and ashamed of herself for even caring about such things at a time like this.
‘What a perfect punishment.’
She sadly acknowledged it. A former god becoming human and a former human becoming a god—leaving neither happy—was truly a cruel and effective revenge.
“Promeon, wait a moment. Where are you going now?”
“To find Hermane.”
When Karnen barely caught her breath and asked, Promeon answered without hesitation. Karnen clenched her teeth.
“First of all, her name is Noxia. Please don’t get it confused. And please, only do as much as she can handle later. She has a daily life she needs to return to. After she gets through this safely, she should be able to go back to an ordinary life, right?”
Karnen begged for her friend.
Even seeing her desperate attitude, Promeon did not sneer or feel pleasure. He did not mock her by asking how it felt for someone who used to be a god to beg someone who had once been weaker than her.
He was simply expressionless, as if he had forgotten how to show human emotions.
“…So this is how you felt. I understand now.”
Promeon whispered slowly. Karnen looked confused.
“You used to get angry over the smallest things. From our perspective, you were such petty beings. If you acted even slightly arrogant, you called it blasphemy and sent floods, threw lightning, or changed the terrain. In truth, you weren’t even that arrogant.”
As Promeon continued in a low voice without any sarcasm, Karnen’s face twisted. They both recalled the same era—the distant ancient past, long categorized as mythology.
“A woman who was turned into a spider for weaving too well, a man who was turned into a deer and torn apart by hunting dogs for spying on a god bathing… Who else was there?”
“Promeon.”
“Oh, and there was a war because of you. A god who sulked because she wasn’t invited to a wedding caused conflict with a single golden apple, right? The gods fought over that apple, but it was humans who suffered the war. Just because they worshipped different gods.”
“Promeon, back then… we were wrong. I was wrong. I’m really sorry. Truly.”
Tears formed in Karnen’s eyes. They were not fake.
After living human lives repeatedly, she finally understood how arbitrary and cruel what had once seemed natural as a god could feel from another perspective.
Promeon looked genuinely surprised at her apology. His blank expression cracked, and faint confusion and bewilderment leaked through.
“I wasn’t asking for an apology, Pellene. I literally mean that I understand.”
Promeon gently soothed his old friend. Instead of feeling relieved, Karnen felt even more miserable. If he had wanted an apology and mocked her, she would have knelt and begged.
“And even if I had wanted an apology, you don’t need to feel sorry. You were one of the kinder and more rational gods. I remember how hard you tried to defend humans.”
Now Promeon’s gaze was almost gentle. The terrifying, abyss-like gaze from before seemed forgotten. Even if only for a moment, Karnen dared to hope.
“And I did wrong to you. At least to you, you don’t need to apologize.”
“It’s okay, Promeon. It’s really okay. Now I understand too… I understand why you had to go that far. The gods wronged you first. If we hadn’t pushed you like that, you wouldn’t have done it. There would have been no need.”
The former god now understood humans. How fragile and weak humans were, yet how fiercely they lived; how precious their single life was when it was as short as a passing sunshower.
She understood how humans struggled to do their best in lives that were fleeting to gods, and how base or noble they could become for that purpose.
Thus, the boundary between “you” and “us” blurred, and their perspectives changed as their positions reversed.
Yet they were still misaligned. Just as Karnen had changed, Promeon had also changed through long, long time.
“I told you, Pellene. I understand you now.”
Promeon said gently. Unlike his tone, his gaze again resembled the cold, deep ocean in midwinter.
“In your eyes, how much did we look like insects?”
As he added softly, Karnen’s face stiffened. Before her frozen lips could move, Promeon turned around and disappeared.
“Promeon!”
Karnen called out desperately to her old friend. But the darkness that swallowed him did not answer, and she was left alone in the room.
Hearing the young lady suddenly shout in her room, the servants of the Marquis family rushed in in surprise. Seeing that they could hear her voice, Karnen realized how futile everything was.
“No…”
She collapsed to the floor and clutched her hair. Promeon’s last words echoed in her mind like a grotesque curse.
[In your eyes, how much did we look like insects?]
If “you” were gods and “we” were humans, then what choice would Promeon, who had endured long solitude and transcended the category of humanity, make?
Karnen’s fear deepened. Before Promeon arrived, she only had to worry about her best friend’s safety. Now, the lives of others were also hanging in the balance.
Having lost all her former power and retaining only memories of being a god, she could do nothing but wait helplessly.
