As he felt the increasingly chilly night air, Oben sensed that a tedious season was coming to an end. After completing his duties prompted by a summons from the imperial secretary’s office, the first thing he did upon arriving at his family home was head to the grave of his concubine, Milena.
“Master, if you go without stopping by the main house, Lady Siliona will be disappointed,” the knight following him advised. Oben glanced back at him subtly.
“Eharc, is that from your long experience?”
“Ahem, I have always loved only my wife. I do not give much affection to the concubine.”
“That’s a painful thing to say.”
Oben gave a bitter smile at Eharc’s unexpected rebuttal. ‘I do not give much affection to the concubine,’ he knew those words were directed at him.
“Siliona and I are only connected by an arranged marriage. There’s no such thing as love between us, is there?”
“Even if you think so, Lady Siliona may feel differently.”
“You’re talkative today, Eharc. If you’re going to prattle on like this, don’t follow me.”
At Oben’s stern words, Eharc made a gesture of closing his mouth. The gesture, unfitting for his large frame, made Oben chuckle as he continued towards the grave.
Before long, Milena’s grave came into view. Thanks to his instructions to the servants to maintain it properly, it was clean, but compared to the graves of other members of the Craypart family, it was exceedingly small.
“Do you still think it’s insufficient? You know, even though you are the head of the family, Lady Milena was a concubine. Because of the family’s tradition of despising branch bloodlines…”
“Eharc, have you forgotten what I said earlier?”
Eharc, who had quickly opened his mouth, promptly shut it again.
As Oben slowly walked towards the grave and was about to place the bouquet he brought as usual, he noticed a flower that wasn’t his own already there.
“Hmm?”
He saw that someone had been there before him.
“Has a visitor come before me? Was it Herand?”
Eharc shook his head at Oben’s question.
“Then who?”
“Julian came and went.”
“Julian?” Oben was surprised by the unexpected name.
‘Julian, who hadn’t visited the family home since a certain incident, came here. Has he finally found peace in his heart?’
The solitary flower left by Julian maintained its elegance and exuded its presence, reminiscent of Julian himself. Oben placed his bouquet beside it.
“What do you think?”
“About what, Master Oben?”
“About bringing Julian back to the family home and removing the name ‘Frason’.”
Eharc, caught off guard by Oben’s sudden words, cleared his throat.
“Though his reputation has been improving lately, I think it’s still premature.”
“Is that so…”
“May I offer a candid opinion?”
Normally, Oben would have told him to keep quiet, but seeing Eharc’s unusually serious expression, he nodded.
“If you had been more understanding and nurturing to Julian from his childhood, your relationship wouldn’t have deteriorated this much. Are you trying to act like a father now?”
“…That’s harsh.”
Their long-time companionship had turned into a bond beyond mere friendship. But because of this, Eharc’s criticism was sharp, and Oben felt it deeply.
As a father, he knew his character was lacking, but it was inevitable that seeing Julian reminded him of the deceased Milena. In the end, wasn’t it his own actions that led to her death? Reflecting on this, Oben had ended up neglecting Julian as he grew up.
“What I want to say is to let him open his heart first.”
“It’s quite different from when you used to criticize Julian.”
“If it were in the past, I would still think it’s impossible. But now!”
“But?”
“Recently, I’ve had different thoughts.”
“Aren’t you the imperial hunting dog who always criticized Julian?”
“Indeed. I didn’t like him, but I thought it was unavoidable as I acted on behalf of the imperial duties. Moreover…”
Thinking there was more to say, Oben looked at Eharc.
“To be honest, when he grabbed your hand like he was going to break it, I felt a bit… relieved.”
“Hmm…”
Oben sighed. He could feel how perceptions of Julian were changing. Even his closest confidant was speaking like this. For some reason, Oben felt a sense of empowerment as if Julian’s changes mirrored his own.
***
After learning how Julian acquired the villainous trait of “Vessel of the Demon Lord,” the landscape shown by the Soul Stone disappeared like a mirage.
“The memories of the Soul Stone, how curious.”
It was my first experience of this kind. Neither here nor in the game had I heard of anything like it. Because of the poignant memories, my fingertips started to tingle, and my eyes welled up without reason. However, there were no tears. The tear ducts of a villain were dry, and there was nothing emotional to spill out.
Probably… it had to be this way. Only then could I survive as “Julian” in this variable-ridden world. “Julian” had to be “Julian.”
I quietly looked at the foreign object in my hand.
“This is…”
The necklace that had lost its Soul Stone.
Julian would likely object to discarding it, and it went against my Confucian beliefs. So, I decided to put it back in the jewelry box and replace it later with a similar gem for decoration.
“But where is Sombra?”
I looked around, but the shadowy figure was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s definitely around here.”
The mana veins within my body clearly sensed Sombra’s presence. Perhaps he was still healing after consuming the Soul Stone.
“There’s nothing to do but wait.”
According to the settings, Sombra would heal eventually. I just didn’t know when. All I could do was wait.
“So, what should I do now?”
Unfortunately, I had only one way to kill time. Julian’s hobby. Or rather, it was just my hobby.
I opened the door and looked for the butler who knew everything about the house.
“Has anyone watered the plants today?”
***
“Since no guests visit, the reception room has become a flower garden.”
Placing pots here was a good choice. The sunlight was abundant, and the room was spacious.
“…Hmm?”
At that moment, I felt something squirming inside my body. It was undoubtedly the presence of Sombra.
“Are you awake?”
As if responding to my words, Sombra slightly raised its head from the shadows.
“But something feels strange.”
It was the same shadowy color as usual, but…
“It has… eyes.”
Multiple eyes, in fact.
“That’s grotesque.”
I couldn’t help but voice my honest reaction as I looked at Sombra, now adorned with multiple eyes. It was like something a final boss villain might have, and I clicked my tongue in disapproval.
“Why did it turn out like this…?”
Could it be related to the Soul Stone that was embedded in the keepsake? No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t find an answer. In all my experience with this game, I had never encountered anything like this before.
At that moment, the eyes on Sombra began to close.
Could it be responding to my words?
“That can’t be it.”
Sombra was a demon; it didn’t seem capable of understanding human emotions or speech. It protected me only to ensure its own survival, making its actions more pragmatic than emotional.
But Sombra’s subsequent behavior made me question if it indeed had feelings. It began to shrink back, the confidence in its numerous eyes and body seeming to deflate.
“On closer inspection, it’s actually quite useful. It can see in multiple directions, which could be very advantageous.”
With a sense of ‘just in case,’ I spoke loudly enough for Sombra to hear, and it perked up again, expanding its form and regaining its confident stance.
‘To think it has developed such a sense of self after absorbing the Soul Stone…’
Certainly, demons tend to gain more intelligence as the number of their horns increases. So, if Sombra, which parasitizes my body, accumulates more demonic energy through the Soul Stone, it might become more intelligent.
‘But if it becomes more intelligent, wouldn’t that be a disadvantage for me?’
Even if it gains intelligence, a demon is still a demon. Typically, beings like Sombra, akin to half-demons, harbor malice towards humans. Even though I currently have the upper hand, the stronger Sombra becomes, the higher the risk of it overpowering me.
“If you become stronger, do you intend to take over my body?”
If it had indeed become smarter, it might understand my words. But Sombra only tilted its head with its eyes wide open, as if pretending not to understand or genuinely not knowing.
Leaving it behind, I picked up the watering can and started watering the plants.
Eventually, as I reached the pot of ‘Angelica,’ Sombra wriggled and climbed onto the pot.
“Move aside.”
Upon my reprimand, Sombra, now fully inflated, angrily began to engulf the pot of ‘Angelica.’
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Feeling displeased, I attempted to cut off the mana I was supplying to Sombra. In that moment, Sombra started to swell and take on a shape.
A pot.
And not just any pot.
“Angelica…?”
Although it was pitch black and there were slightly imperfect areas visible, I could still recognize it.
The leaf edges slightly trimmed, the shape of the pot—everything was familiar and dear, just as I remembered. No one would understand the act of cherishing an orchid and even naming it.
“Do you… understand?”
It was heartwarming to have someone who shared this solitary hobby in this world. Although Sombra wasn’t exactly human, it was an intelligent being.
“Wait a moment.”
I suddenly realized something odd. The pot that Sombra had been in had disappeared.
“Is that possible?”
As I began to form an answer in my mind, Sombra stopped imitating the pot. With a squirming sound, the pot reappeared. It seemed Sombra had stored it inside its body.
“Can you store items now?”
To confirm, I handed over my sword and its sheath. Sombra naturally tucked them into its body. It was an ability similar to an inventory system from other games. Sombra must have gained this ability by absorbing the Soul Stone.
“Oh…”
It was a highly useful ability. It provided a place to hide ‘holy relics’ and other items that needed to be kept secret.
However…
“Please return my sword.”
It seemed reluctant to return items it liked.
***
“Archbishop Eleonora, you’ve arrived?”
Tenellon looked at himself with a face smeared with blood. At his feet, someone lay in a pool of blood.
“I can’t hear the voice anymore.”
Staring emptily at the fallen bishop, Tenellon shifted his gaze to Eleonora.
“What voice do you mean?”
“The voice of the Demon God. The voice that always offered wise insights.”
Since succeeding to the position of the Grand Archbishop, Tenellon’s actions had grown strange.
“So, I have to find my own way and carve out a path.”
Obsessed with this ‘voice,’ he demanded absolute loyalty from the followers, disposing of anyone who defied his thoughts.
What was this ‘voice’ he was so fixated on?
“Tell Julian to join me for a meal.”
Eleonora had sacrificed much for the survival of the Dawn Society, but this scene turned the doubt in her heart into certainty.
Was Tenellon, the Grand Archbishop of the Dawn Society, truly fit to lead this organization?
If not, he had to be removed.
Cliche Novel 