Chapter 105
Thud!
Something like gelatinous blobs from the darkness pushed against the door.
The room was swallowed by darkness again.
“Ah… ah… no one…”
Michael felt a threatening presence consuming his body.
But his body, weakened with ligaments torn from torture, would not obey him.
Ugh.
Twisting his body, Michael rolled to the side.
Thud!
He fell to the floor—not into the white shadow cast by the lattice through the moonlight, but into the pitch-black space beneath it.
As if waiting, the black orb-like things rolled across the floor toward him.
Fear welled up in Michael Owen’s eyes, as if he knew what they were.
The black orbs split and multiplied. Just as before, they forced their way into his nose, mouth, and even eyes.
Before long, his eyes burst, blood streaming down his face.
Thud, thud!
Michael tried to smash the black objects invading his body with his hands, but they twisted and contorted, reassembling to consume him.
Hiss.
His entire body trembled convulsively.
He tried to stand, bending his knees, but he was helpless.
He attempted to scream, but his mouth was already filled with black orbs.
He struggled to spit them out, moving his face from side to side.
But whatever was inside him was persistent and cunning.
In an instant, his pupils rolled back, leaving only the whites. He convulsed in a death throe.
Finally, he stopped struggling. His fists were clenched tightly, as if in frustration.
Then, it happened.
Michael’s body turned into a figure of pure black darkness, separating from his flesh. He shriveled, leaving only a grotesque shell.
“Not exactly a pleasant taste.”
The figure licked its lips while looking down at Michael’s corpse.
He had killed a child for success, and Michael’s soul, which had been targeted, was devoured by Orlesion without even receiving rest.
The figure walked toward a full-length mirror in the corner of the room and was absorbed into it.
The room fell silent, like a tomb.
No trace of life remained.
Under the ceiling of the magical tower, Jubius bowed deeply toward Orlesion, who poured into the hollow statue.
The black orbs merged into a single body.
“When will I be spared the trouble of cleaning up afterward?”
“My apologies.”
Orlesion descended from the statue and poured himself into the eye sockets of the skin he had previously entered. Flesh and muscles filled the slackened skin.
Before long, a tall, beautiful man stood before the Deputy, though his eyes glowed red.
“From whom do you receive your life?”
“From Orlesion.”
“From whom comes your glory?”
“From Orlesion.”
“From whom will your future glory come?”
“From Orlesion.”
“Do not forget.”
Orlesion passed him and ascended the stairs. From the top of the magical tower, the gentle moonlight illuminated the underground space.
Suddenly, he stopped and looked at Jubius, who flinched in fear.
“To the Demon Realm. To the Karikas territory.”
“…!”
“You will need a shell strong enough to endure even during the day.”
Deputy Jubius opened his mouth to object but shut it tight when Orlesion’s eyes gleamed.
“Understood.”
Jubius looked up at the ceiling. Mirrors were densely embedded, reflecting the Empire. Traveling through the mirrors was Orlesion’s ability.
He shifted his gaze to an old scroll behind the round statue. It was an unusual scroll in the Empire. He could never forget the day he obtained it.
The sculpted, eight-headed form of Orlesion was greedily licked by the fiery red and yellow tongues of flame beasts. Unlike the joyous fire beasts, he grimaced in pain, writhing.
In a polytheistic nation that worshiped twelve gods, it was hard for a monotheistic religion like his to survive.
Yet the scroll, received on a nameless deserted island through a divine revelation, changed his life.
The day Orlesion on the scroll reincarnated was ecstasy, as if he possessed everything in the world.
With the divine reincarnation, he could destroy the tower that symbolized the Empire’s glory.
And when he placed the scroll, the source of his power, in the tower’s basement, he felt a thrill as if he had everything.
But fear arose. For his glory, for Orlesion’s immortality, the Empire was becoming increasingly endangered.
Then it happened.
Kuaang!
The ground trembled, and mirror shards fell from the ceiling.
What’s happening?
He hurriedly looked up at the top of the tower. A dark shadow had spread across the surroundings.
Creak! Whoosh!
Hot flames engulfed the area.
Fire beasts were one of the things their master feared most. The torches earlier wielded by Owen’s knights were a huge threat, but enduring them meant they had grown resistant to fire.
Yet they were still vulnerable to flames that heated the entire structure.
Jubius hurried up the tower stairs to protect Orlesion, the present glory and future prosperity.
The play had been excellent.
But Sinclair couldn’t focus.
Ariel, Sophia, and even the young captured acolyte didn’t remember that strange presence.
What was it?
Though her world was fantasy, and though this was long before the main story, Sinclair’s mind went blank each time events diverged from expectations. Her world was so different from the one she had lived in.
Sigh… I thought I had gotten used to this world, but that was a mistake.
She could not forget the foreign sensation she felt in her palm—the cold, slippery touch that sent shivers down her spine.
She rubbed her hands, worried that remnants of the black entity might still cling to them.
No. She should have grabbed that object. Then she could have analyzed it with an atomic analyzer.
It wasn’t a citizen of the Empire—something she’d never read about…
Another demon not described by the author?
If it didn’t appear in the original story, maybe it wasn’t as deadly as Theodore.
Could Curtis, who had lived in the Demon Realm for a long time, know? What about Yoan?
Yes, they might know.
Her heart still raced. Could she, just a temporary contract teacher, confront such terrifying, mysterious powers?
She couldn’t forget that horrifying red gaze that looked at her.
If Theodore became a demon, it would be even scarier than that gaze.
To break Jean’s curse, wouldn’t she need at least that level of power?
Sinclair looked at her own body—fragile, thin, small.
Could she really do it? Protect this world, protect her child?
“Sing?”
Gerald’s voice near her ear brought her back to reality.
Bravo.
All the children and nobles nearby stood up and applauded.
“Don’t worry. Schmidt will rescue the children.”
Gerald patted Sinclair’s shoulder kindly.
I’m not that selfless. I was just wracking my brain over my own problems.
Sinclair waved at Theodore, who smiled brightly amidst the children. He looked natural, happy between the Crown Prince and Cordelia.
Thankfully, the Heather family gathering was a success.
The noblewomen who received Theodore’s gifts were all smiles, with sugar, seafood seasoning blocks, and more.
The seasoning blocks from “Theodore’s Gift” enhanced the food prepared by the Heather family, promoting them further.
The noblewomen’s eyes, captivated by taste, smell, and sight, were clearly more favorable than when they first saw her and the Grand Prince.
Curiosity and wariness had turned into liking, making it easier for Sinclair to navigate the “Demon Realm Commemoration Campaign.”
The Emperor’s carriage approached, less grand than Julius’ previous transport, but still imposing.
“Prepared by Bodrina, the Dowager Duchess.”
A maid whispered to Kenneth. If rumors spread about a broken carriage, it would shame the royal family.
Hopefully, the scuffle with the Grand Princess earlier didn’t reach their ears.
Empress Kenneth looked at Sinclair with complex eyes, noticing the cheeky Grand Prince clinging to her.
Still bothersome.
Kenneth gave a slight bow to the Grand Prince, then planned to board the carriage with Crown Prince Alfred.
Then—
Clack, clack.
A knight in Owen’s uniform ran at full speed along the orderly road past the long carriage line.
Even from afar, the man holding a torch looked grim. All eyes naturally turned toward him.
The man leapt from his horse. A Heather family coachman quickly retrieved the horse.
The man knelt before Empress Kenneth, raising his arm in a salute.
“I am Charles, messenger of Owen.”
“What is it?”
“Marquis Michael Owen has just passed away.”
Kenneth wobbled. The Crown Prince and a maid steadied her.
Then—
Kwaaang!
From the distant Imperial Palace, a huge flame rose.
Everyone turned in shock.
“Oh my, monsters!”
“Monsters!”
Bang!
It wasn’t only the palace. A beautifully spraying fountain was shattered. Sinclair leapt to protect Theodore from the debris. Any injury could be fatal.
