Whispers of a Scheming Demon - Chapter 57

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

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◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈

Chapter 57: Kembell (2)

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“Raguel, are you ready to die?”

Silence filled the library.

No one spoke for a long while.

Raguel was the first to break it.

“...I need an explanation.”

Mapheltan looked troubled. Instead of answering, he looked at Ilea.

“Ilea, didn’t you explain it to him?”

Ilea replied in an emotionless voice.

“I was about to, but stopped. If Mapheltan’s plan is what I think it is, I thought it was something you should tell the young master yourself.”

Why Mapheltan was determined to bring Raguel to Narak, what it meant to promise him his sight back, and the hidden meaning behind asking whether he was ready to die. Ilea could not bring herself to tell Raguel what she knew.

Because there was only one answer to every question.

Mapheltan wanted Raguel to abandon his humanity.

It was something the two of them needed to discuss themselves.

Mapheltan swallowed a groan. He had hoped Ilea would persuade Raguel for him.

He had subtly dumped the troublesome task onto her.

Mapheltan’s scheme had failed spectacularly.

Ilea was firmer than he had expected. She usually went along with Mapheltan’s unreasonable demands as though she could not help it, but this matter apparently did not meet her standards.

‘I have no idea what those standards are.’

Clicking his tongue, Mapheltan approached Raguel.

For now, persuading Raguel mattered more than figuring out Ilea’s true thoughts.

Mapheltan placed a hand on Raguel’s shoulder.

“Before I explain, let me ask you one question.”

It was an opening that created a certain tension.

Raguel swallowed dryly.

“P-Please, ask.”

“Do you trust me?”

Confusion spread over Raguel’s face.

“What do you mean, trust you...?”

“I mean, do you believe that my actions will never make you unhappy? That I am not a being wholly driven by blind malice?”

It was such an unexpected question that Raguel was taken aback.

He did not know how to respond.

Scratching his head, he spoke.

“It’s a little hard to answer when you suddenly ask me something like that.”

“Do not feel pressured. Just tell me what you have always thought.”

Mapheltan’s voice had grown grave.

It felt as though Raguel had to give him a serious answer.

Raguel thought for a moment. He began sorting out his thoughts about Mapheltan.

Mapheltan and Johan. Though they seemed like vicious demons, they had sometimes shown a remarkably human side.

Anyone who had watched their actions would agree.

Raguel’s thoughts were not much different.

Who had first reached out a hand to him when he had been living a life like hell? Where had his reason to keep living, even with the smallest shred of hope, come from?

It had all come from Mapheltan.

Of course, there had always been hidden intentions behind his kindness, but those intentions had never once sprung from dreadful malice.

At least, not so far.

Mapheltan might be two-faced, but he was not a fiend consumed by malice.

Raguel spoke with a fairly serious expression.

“I trust you, Mapheltan. To begin with, I’m in a position where I have to. The moment I deny you, there will be nothing left in my life.”

Without Mapheltan, Raguel’s life would be nothing but pitch-black darkness.

In truth, Raguel did not even have the choice of whether to trust him or not.

Mapheltan opened his mouth.

“I understand exactly what you mean. So I will promise you one thing. Your trust will never be betrayed. If you wish, I can even make a contract with my life as collateral.”

What could he possibly be about to say, to even mention a Demon Pact?

Anxiety appeared on Raguel’s face.

“I don’t need a contract, so please get to the point. Mapheltan, what exactly do you want from me?”

Mapheltan answered calmly.

“Give up being human. In Narak, I want you to cast aside human Raguel and be reborn as a separate being.”

If he agreed, Raguel would receive a new body. Naturally, his sight would return as well.

Raguel swallowed a groan.

“Are you telling me to become a demon?”

Mapheltan shook his head.

“You will be reborn as something more fundamental.”

“Something more fundamental...?”

Ilea abruptly cut in.

“An ancient race that has been forgotten. Like a Witch such as myself.”

In this world, there had once been thirteen races besides humans and demons. Now, only one of those thirteen races remained: Witches.

The other twelve had all gone extinct.

Mapheltan intended to restore every one of them, in preparation for the apocalypse that would come in the latter half.

Raguel would be the foundation of that plan.

He considered Ilea’s words.

“An ancient race like Witches.”

Mapheltan nodded.

“Can you become one of them?”

Raguel’s face was clouded with complex emotions.

Even for someone who found little value in living as a human, giving up his identity was not an easy choice.

Silence continued for a long time.

Only after quite a while did Raguel finally speak.

“...This is probably something you truly need, Mapheltan.”

“Even so, I have no intention of forcing you. Whatever you choose, I will respect it.”

He meant it. There would surely be someone else somewhere who could replace Raguel.

Raguel’s lips moved. After hesitating for a long time, he slowly raised his head.

The blind boy looked directly at Mapheltan with eyes that could no longer see.

“I’ll do it. Because I trust you, Mapheltan.”

Resolve filled his subdued voice.

Mapheltan smiled.

“That trust will surely be rewarded. We will discuss the details once we are in Narak.”

* * *

Dawn was beginning to break. The dawn rising over the hills receded, taking the previous night’s mirage with it.

It was time to wake from anguish and worry and return to reality.

The dark single room gradually brightened with a bluish light.

Knight Kembell sat cross-legged. He had not slept a single moment through the long night, but his face was clearer than ever. Firm determination showed in his expression.

‘...Yes. I will atone.’

Kembell looked at the small brazier before him. A dagger was heating in its glowing embers.

Once its sharp blade had turned bright red, he removed the dagger from the brazier.

Without the slightest hesitation, he pressed the heated blade against his own face.

Sizzle.

White smoke rose. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. Suppressed groans burst out without pause.

A dreadful burning pain struck his skin.

“Kh... ugh!”

It hurt, but Kembell did not stop. He tightened his grip and pressed the blade more deeply into his flesh.

His face was once again covered in burn scars. His skin was returning to its former state, becoming hideously ruined.

“Th-this is right. This is the right thing to do.”

The previous night, Kembell had received healing for his scars from an unknown being. He had been rewarded for his repentance.

Kembell found that difficult to accept.

He had done nothing but blame himself. He had never atoned even once. He had drowned himself in alcohol out of guilt, yet had never found the courage to reveal his sins.

Kembell was not worthy of a reward.

At the very least, he had to ask the Third Prince for forgiveness. Then, whether he received punishment or reward, he would wait for whatever judgment came.

That was the conclusion he had reached after struggling through the night.

Groaning, Kembell dropped the dagger.

Bits of skin clung to the blade.

His face burned as though it were on fire.

Without tending to his wounds, he put on his visor.

As steel met melted skin, unbearable pain surged through him.

“Kh... ngh!”

Even through the shocking pain, Kembell stubbornly finished preparing to leave.

It was time to find the Third Prince.

The moment he threw open the door, a familiar face stood before him.

“Have you finally grown up? You got up before I could wake you and even prepared to leave. I must say, I’m impressed.”

It was Maira. He lightly clapped as though genuinely impressed.

“...Brother.”

“But what is that burning smell? Don’t tell me you grilled meat by yourself?”

Kembell hesitated briefly, then lifted his visor.

Maira’s expression turned to shock.

“Y-you!”

His skin had been completely seared, leaving him more grotesque than before.

“What do you think, Brother? Doesn’t this suit someone like me perfectly?”

“Have you finally gone mad?!”

“If what happened last night had not happened, I would have gone mad, just as you said. But not now. If anything, my mind has never been clearer.”

Maira could not follow the situation at all.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“You will never understand, so just think that your younger brother has found what he must do as a knight. I will be going now.”

As Kembell tried to leave the room, Maira blocked his way.

“Where do you think you’re going looking like that? You will not take a single step until you explain yourself properly!”

Kembell’s expression became calm.

“I intend to see His Highness the Third Prince.”

“What?!”

“You know why, even if I do not say it. So move aside.”

Maira immediately drew his sword.

“You dare betray your master?”

Kembell snorted.

“I am not the Count’s dog. I am the royal family’s sword and shield.”

“Now you want to pretend to be some noble knight? After you have already stained yourself?”

“Think whatever you like. I have already decided. I will wash away at least some of this filth.”

Kembell’s eyes were filled with resolve.

There was no way to break him.

“If that is truly your will!”

Maira pointed his sword at Kembell.

Kembell’s face turned cold.

“Brother, are you truly confident? If you intend to stop me, you must be prepared to die.”

Maira’s eyes wavered for an instant.

Kembell was a knight who could project Aura. He was one rank stronger than Maira.

The difference between a knight’s ranks was an enormous gap in strength. The winner of a fight between Maira and Kembell had already been decided.

Maira could not bring himself to swing his sword. He only bit his lip and spoke.

“Your entire house, your father, and your siblings could all be slaughtered.”

They were Kembell’s greatest shackles.

Four years ago, he had been forced to attack the Third Prince’s palace for the sake of his family.

Kembell spoke.

“If they are knights as well, then they must pay the price for disloyalty.”

House Laura served the royal family. They had forgotten their oath and turned their blades on their master, so they had no choice but to bear responsibility for their betrayal.

“...You are abandoning your family?”

“I am no longer of House Laura. Do not bind them and me together.”

Leaving only those words behind, Kembell walked out of the village chief’s house. Ignoring the shouts behind him, he stopped outside for a moment.

His gaze fell on the visor in his hand.

After a brief moment of thought, Kembell casually threw it away.

He would no longer wear a mask.

He intended to bear every responsibility openly.

He gently touched his scars.

‘...Mapheltan.’

If he succeeded in atoning, that unknown being would erase Kembell’s scars with a single gesture once again.

A miracle of that degree would be nothing to the god called Mapheltan.

Kembell started to make the sign of the cross, then stopped.