<Chapter 7>

Surprisingly, yet at the same time not surprising at all, it was only natural.

The reason the dreams had felt so vivid all this time was because they were not mere dreams, but the past.

The memories I gained were the emotions and the final day of Lamia who loved Killian, no, of “me.”

Within the unfolding recollection, I did not self-destruct as a villainess.

Nor did I urge Elise to sacrifice herself.

The one who suffered was rather me.

I was pushed by my companions and forced into sacrifice.

‘A body that was discarded like that.

Then why did it return again.’

Only then did I suddenly recall my final moment on Earth.

The suspicious email title, <To Lamia>.

The moment I clicked it, I was dragged into this world.

Perhaps that was what possessed me?

No sooner had suspicion arisen than a system window filled my vision.

[User ‘지안쟌바리’ has hj this body by the will of the ‘Sender’.]

[<SYSTEM> A new quest has occurred!]

[<Main> Find the ‘Sender’ of the email and offer your heart at the ‘Yggdrasil Altar’ to return to Earth.

Execution limit: 1 time.

Deadline: Next solar eclipse.]

[The higher the synchronization rate, the higher the probability of obtaining memory fragments.]

‘W-What is this supposed to mean?’

Even rock-paper-scissors is best of three, yet I only get one chance to return.

And what is that grotesque condition about offering my heart?

There were many things that bothered me, but one conclusion was certain.

I had to find the memory fragments first.

The answer was inside them.

Whether the reason I was brought back was atonement, revenge, or another sacrifice, I did not know.

But five years ago, on the day I died, there had been four companions present at that place.

‘Among them is the “Sender”.’

I slowly recited the names of the companion pool I saw in the recollection.

Killian and Elise, the Hero and the Saintess, the protagonists loved by the world.

The remaining two were still vague.

I could barely see only silhouettes, one quite tall and the other seeming to have animal ears.

I would meet them all someday.

What kind of expressions would they make when they saw me?

Would they apologize?

Would they get angry again and ask why I came back?

‘Or would they even remember me at all?’

Clutching the strangely damp diary, I closed my eyes.

I was a little tired.

When I opened them again, the Demon King was in the room.

Strangely, just like the diary that had grown even damper than before, I was not surprised.

It was as if the flood of memories had stolen even the strength to be startled.

The Demon King quietly knelt on one knee before me as if he had entered without a sound.

I silently followed his movement with my gaze.

Soon he extended his arm.

This time, I flinched involuntarily and shut my eyes tightly.

I thought he was going to scold me for intruding here as I pleased.

But no matter how long I waited, punishment did not come.

Instead, I felt a gentle touch brushing my cheek.

He cupped my cheek with his palm and rubbed near my eye with his thumb as he spoke.

“Why are you crying.”

I opened my eyes wide and looked at him.

In his faintly pigmented eyes, my reflection was visible.

Only then did I realize.

I was crying.

My head dropped.

It was inevitably a painful memory.

No matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise, it was I who had ultimately driven the blade into my own chest.

I was the one whose heart had been torn apart by every word Killian spoke.

The one abandoned by companions.

The one ultimately discarded.

It was not the game character Lamia.

It was me.

I muttered incoherently as if speaking to myself.

“I… I saw it.

It suddenly came back to me, how I died.

But why am I perfectly fine right now?

It all feels like a lie.

I fell into that lava, and being alive makes even less sense.”

My voice trembled unsightly.

The Demon King only continued wiping away my flowing tears in silence.

I barely removed his hand and met his eyes.

I slightly missed the vanished warmth, but I had to confront him.

“You knew, didn’t you.

That I died back then.”

“How could you not know?

Why wouldn’t you know?

It happened in the holy underground when we came to kill you.

You were supposed to die with me back then.

So how are we both alive?”

The condition to completely kill the Demon King was to destroy the core by offering a noble soul, namely the Saintess’s life.

So that no successor would follow.

The human realm had reduced the Demon Realm’s territory by eliminating Demon Kings in that manner.

Naturally, the temple concealed this fact.

Perhaps only the highest officials of Yggdrasil shared that information.

‘There would be no Saintess who would volunteer knowing she had to sacrifice her life.’

I did not know whether Killian had known from the beginning or learned it just before reaching the Demon King’s castle.

But in any case, he chose me as the sacrifice instead of Elise.

Therefore, the completion of all quests meant undeniably that Lamia and Demon King Roakin had died.

“How do you know me?

Don’t say I was just a one-night partner.

That would be a pathetic excuse.”

From what I had heard while escaping, the Demon King had only brought in the orange-haired human Saintess to his bedroom.

For whatever reason, he kept searching for me.

“I’m asking how we know each other.”

“Did you perhaps bring me here?”

At first, I thought one of my former companions must be the culprit.

But that was too naive.

It seemed I would have to include every connection I had ever made in the past as a candidate.

“Like the email, or the Sender, do you know anything?”

He remained silent the entire time.

His gaze was fixed on the joint of my hand still holding his wrist as I removed it.

He did not utter a single word.

His expressionless face was as calm as a lake at night.

I could not read him at all.

I thought he might at least react at the mention of the email.

Feeling as though I were talking to a wall, anger began to rise within me.

“Say something!

You’re the only one I have right now!”

The emotions thrown into chaos by the sudden flood of memories lashed out at the wrong place.

“You were the first person I saw after losing my memory.

You were the one holding my belongings.

Do you really not know, or do you just not want to answer?”

After a brief silence, he finally parted his lips.

“…I don’t know.”

I could tell he was trying to sound gentle.

But the tone was so deliberate it was almost mechanical.

Having given up, I asked one last thing.

“Fine.

Then just tell me this.

Since when have I been with you?”

“Since when, have you been?”

When I pressed him again, he reluctantly answered.

“You fell yesterday.

Along with your belongings.”

“I fell from the sky?”

Make it make sense.

Despite my incredulous reaction, he gave a faint nod.

“You came to me first.

I only picked up what I needed.”

“Why do you need me?”

Unfortunately, that seemed to be the end of his goodwill.

Ignoring my question lightly, he rose to his feet.

“Come out.

You’re hungry.”

‘There he goes changing the subject again.’

‘You’re not the only one without ears.

I don’t have them either.’

Pretending not to have heard anything, I reopened my diary.

Since the memory category had unlocked earlier, the blank space of the D-O record had become densely filled.

Watching me read carefully in case I had missed something, he let out a deep sigh.

“What’s the point of staring at blank pages.”

I lifted the page filled with my handwriting.

“What do you mean there’s nothing to see?”

Leaning against the doorframe, he wore a crooked expression.

“What meaning is there in enduring a few seconds like that.

Do you want me to carry you?”

I sprang up and approached him.

It was partly because I disliked the idea of being carried, but also because I had something to confirm.

Pointing at any random word on the page I held out, I asked him.

His sigh deepened further.

“If you want someone to play along with your clown act, there are plenty above.

Let’s go out first, Lamia.”

The small suspicion that had sprouted became certain.

‘What.

Don’t tell me he can’t see these letters.

Is this a record permitted only to me?’

What a fantastical arrangement.

Afraid of drawing more suspicion, I quickly closed the diary, tucked it under my arm, and tilted my head for him to lead the way.

The tears had already dried.

The only positive effect of that suffocating conversation.

I trotted after Roakin as he slowly walked ahead.

“But where are we going?

Can’t I just stay and look at the ship?

I’m really not hungry.”

The moment I said it, my stomach betrayed me.

Grrrrr.

The loud rumble echoed embarrassingly.

‘Ah, read the room, stomach!’

Do you know this?

Hunger bursting out right after denial is as shameful as passing gas.

Especially when your opponent is merciless enough to point it out.

Merciless Roakin abruptly stopped walking.

Naturally, I ended up burying my nose into his broad back.

An involuntary groan escaped me.

Holding my nose and groaning, I looked up at him as he glanced over his shoulder.

Then he smiled faintly.

“I’m sure.”

Unfairly enough, even that simple curl of his lips was excessively sensual.

Looking forward again, he lit the corridor with a gesture and climbed the stairs.

I felt my face heating up in embarrassment.

But at times like this, I had to be confident.

Though the space held only the two of us, I brazenly insisted.

“That sound didn’t come from my stomach!”