Chapter 244 - Even in a Life Like This (7)

After parting with Meister, Deathbringer turned his words over again and again. Yet each time, he arrived at only one conclusion.

Could it be? Surely not. There was no way, but...

"He has... no memories...?"

Could the Demon Knight have no memories of himself? Even if he had not forgotten everything, were there pieces he could not remember?

Surely not...?

"That can't be..."

The Demon Knight so rarely displayed his intellectual abilities that Deathbringer could not be certain. But from everything he had seen, the man did not seem to have a poor memory. Even allowing for his tendency to hide things, that assessment stood.

Deathbringer had never seen him cover for a lapse in memory or fumble because he had forgotten something. At the very least, he was not a man who forgot little, everyday details.

And yet Meister's words troubled him too much to dismiss the possibility.

So did the fact that the Demon Knight had bought information about himself—the original evidence that had sparked all this speculation. People generally bought things out of need. Given that, his purchase led to only one conclusion, however much Deathbringer wrestled with it.

"No, surely not. Surely..."

But... but still.

Was it possible to live solely for revenge, with only the moment of one's family's death held clear amid incomplete memories?

... Could such a person exist?

"That can't be it..."

Perhaps he had simply wondered how much information about him was circulating. After all, he had just begun life as a fugitive.

To live with his identity concealed, he would need to check what was already known. Knowing that and preparing accordingly would make hiding easier.

So there was nothing strange about buying information on himself... nothing strange... strange...

... Even if the guild already possessed the information, gathering it all together would have taken months. That meant the Demon Knight had been considering escape for months... Wasn't that even stranger?

"It can't be true..."

Then had he truly, truly commissioned the guild because there were gaps in his memories that he wanted to fill?

"It shouldn't have been... true..."

The less terrible hypothesis made no sense, and the one that made sense was devastating.

Caught between them, Deathbringer's lips trembled. He did not know how much of the Demon Knight's memory was blank, but the realization that it could hardly be a small amount deepened his grief.

"Damn it..."

If the account of his past delivered this time had caused the Demon Knight to escape—if memories lost and regained had finally moved him to act—could those gaps possibly have been small...? Especially if, until recently, he had even forgotten that he had lost his memories?

Even if he had been aware of his memory loss, it was no less appalling. Someone aware of what they had forgotten would ordinarily have tried to recover it long ago. Yet he had only placed the commission recently. Didn't that mean he had never considered his own loss important?

In other words, he had lived as though losing his memories did not matter, so long as he could worship revenge.

"Fuck, is that human? Is that even human...?"

Was that truly a human being? Would it not be more fitting to call him a beast? That... that existence, that life.

... Ah.

Was death truly the only thing that could save you?

* * *

The questioning did not take long. Daniel's association with that man had been brief.

But the intensity of his sense of betrayal bore no relation to its length.

He had known it. He had known this would happen. Rising outrage scraped at his skin and constricted his lungs. The pain, like fingernails clawing his innards, was sickeningly intense. It even made his head spin.

But if he collapsed here? That would only delight the demon who had deceived him.

Daniel clenched his teeth and tried to steady his blurring vision. He could not tell whether he had succeeded. His chest felt tight, and his breathing turned ragged several times.

He wanted to die. No, he wanted to kill. He wanted to tear apart his enemy, that vile thing that had deceived him yet again.

That goddamn demon who had killed his parents and then played ignorant to his face—he truly wanted to...

["I don't know what misunderstanding you had, but let it go. Perhaps I'm only saying this because I don't know enough... but he didn't seem dangerous."]

["Yes. I was tending the shop, so I didn't spend much time with him... but I had much the same impression. He seemed more likely to suffer harm than inflict it."]

["Hmm, that man? He was awesome! He showed me his sword, and let me touch it, and, um, shared his mulled wine! He's nice. I want to see him again. Will he come back?"]

... Yet part of him wanted to ask why. Why had he done it? Demons were born of malice and driven by malice alone, but even so, how could he?

Had it been so entertaining to offer kindness to the people Daniel had left, to win their affection with the very hands that had killed his parents?

Schutz still wanted to see him.

"... I've cleared it with the captain. Get some rest early."

"No. I'd rather work, work..."

Daniel bit his lip at his senior's consideration. He wanted to do something, if only to avoid unleashing his pent-up anger on an undeserving target. Objectively, however, that did not seem possible.

The anger he felt at his senior's kindness was proof enough. Whatever he tried now, he would ultimately fail to control his temper—even if he was trying to calm himself down.

"... I'm sorry."

In the end, he apologized through clenched teeth. He had no choice. He loathed himself for dropping out because he could not control his personal feelings when everyone was struggling... but refusing to acknowledge it and stubbornly causing even more trouble would be hateful.

For now, stepping aside was the better choice.

"Don't worry about it too much. You can do more work next time."

Daniel reluctantly nodded at his senior's kindness and headed toward the quarters they had set up earlier.

"Are you certain you will be all right without an escort?"

"I've managed perfectly well without one until now. They have enough work as it is. Let them rest."

Then someone he could not ignore entered his sight.

The rage he had barely suppressed flared up and seized his mind. Had it not been for the patience and faith he had cultivated as an Inquisitor, he would have charged straight over.

With the very last of his restraint, he walked over, teeth clenched, and reached out.

"Archmage."

His hand closed around the Archmage's wrist, somewhat roughly, but not enough to be construed as hostile.

"You are..."

"I don't know if you... remember me."

The Archmage's eyes widened, apparently more startled by recognizing his face than displeased at having her wrist seized. She did not even seem to think of pulling free.

"Of course I remember. How could I forget you?"

That softened Daniel's anger a little. Faced with someone—and someone quite elderly at that—who showed nothing but genuine puzzlement, with not a trace of ill feeling, he calmed ever so slightly.

The fact that she herself was not the object of his grudge helped as well. He finally managed to let go.

"Then would you please speak with me?"

But a slight easing did not mean his anger had vanished.

Daniel spoke with his molars still clenched. The sound rising from his taut, veined neck was so stiff it seemed to belong to an inanimate object rather than a person.

Still unaware of the reason, she grew solemn in turn.

"... Certainly."

Fortunately, she was as quick on the uptake as the title of Great Sage warranted.

"But if we are to talk, a change of location would be better for us both."

Daniel did not refuse her suggestion. He had no desire to argue with a Great Sage in full view of everyone. Right or wrong, that was no way for a priest to behave.

"Let us go to my quarters."

"Yes."

He followed the Archmage to her quarters. His anger, boiling like an active volcano, did not readily cool even over the nearly ten-minute walk, but it was better than nothing. He had a little more room to think than before. Just a little.

"We only sleep here, so there isn't much. I hope you understand."

"It's fine."

As if he would expect anything under these circumstances. He was in no state to accept hospitality anyway. Daniel accepted her apology.

SWISH!

The tent flap was pulled back just then.

"God damn it..."

It quietly revealed someone curled up inside, weeping with even his breathing hushed.

"You?"

"...?!"

Naturally, both the Archmage who witnessed it and the person caught crying jolted in surprise. Even Daniel did.

"... Would it be better if I came back in a little while?"

In a profession that held serving others as a virtue, it was difficult to rage in the face of someone's tears. Even if the person crying was someone he was uncomfortable with, and he was beside himself with fury.

Given the depth of his outrage, it only made him seethe all the more inside... but patience was still the right thing. Daniel forced the words out.

"Please do."

The Archmage agreed.

"Why?"

Someone else did not.

"Didn't you have business with me anyway? If you've got something to say, say it now. Don't make me look at your mug twice."

Roughly scrubbing his cheeks, he got to his feet. Exhaustion had left his eyes hollow, and the added shadows made their sockets seem as deep as caves.

"There's only one thing you're going to ask anyway, isn't there?"

The only light within those hollows glinted. Though green was the color of nature, those eyes evoked decline rather than prosperity, death rather than life.

"So say it now."

Was that because his eyes were not purely verdant, but held a peculiar murkiness? Because that murkiness resembled the cloying unpleasantness of swallowing poison?

No. Perhaps the problem was not solely the color of his eyes.

"Say it!"

Despair, frustration, resignation, emptiness... Feelings like those were surely the greatest poisons a human could harbor.

"Go on, insult Boss to my face!"

But Daniel was in no state to recognize that or make allowances for it. That was the problem.

Boss. That name for the vile thing that had deceived them all shattered the dam barely holding him back. Or perhaps the faint faith he heard in its utterance pulled the trigger.

"You think I can't?! You think I won't?!"

His suppressed fury forced its way past his vocal cords.

"I should never have trusted him! Never! I knew how wicked and loathsome demons are, and yet again, again—!"

"Boss isn't loathsome!"

"You fool! After being deceived so thoroughly, you still want to believe in him?! He betrayed your defense of him and even the testimony of the people I hold dear!"

"Boss didn't betray anyone!"

"If this isn't betrayal, what is?! I trusted him! I chose to trust him, just as you did! And look at us now! He... he was a demon after all!"

"Shut up! Don't call him a demon! You didn't see a thing! He's not someone the likes of you can label as you please!"

"If I have no right to judge him, who does?!"

"Me."

At that moment, an exceptionally calm voice cut through the shouting.

THWACK!

A heavy blow rang out, and someone fell an instant later.

"...?!"

"Wh-what..."

"... You."

Daniel blinked, sprawled on the ground after a fist struck his face. Brown-and-pink hair swayed right in front of him.

"What do you think you're—!"

THWACK!

Naturally, Daniel was about to focus more on the fact that he had been hit than on questioning the situation. The ensuing kicks prevented that. A foot struck him squarely in the jaw—and when one kick failed to knock him out, Meister delivered several more—until the Inquisitor lost consciousness.

The Archmage, who had been unable to act amid events unfolding far too quickly, and the furious Deathbringer froze with their mouths hanging open.

"Is he dead?!"

"Did you kill him?!"

"He's not dead."

"I didn't kill him."

No one noticed Berserker standing behind Meister, or that she had spoken.

* * *

Dizzy from the situation, the Archmage closed her eyes for a moment. In the darkness, the events of the past few minutes lined up again, one by one.

First, she had met Inquisitor Daniel. He had requested a conversation, so they had moved elsewhere. Not only was Deathbringer already there, but he had been crying.

Yes. That was how it had begun.

Then where had it escalated? That would be when Deathbringer had picked a fight with Inquisitor Daniel. The Inquisitor's decision to retaliate instead of walking away had played no small part too, but regardless.

Now, how had it ended? She had been fretting, unable to either stop their argument or stand by and watch, when Meister—Meister had approached and...

... Before she even had time to recognize and greet him, Meister had beaten Inquisitor Daniel unconscious! Yes, he had punched and kicked him until he passed out!

Having sorted through her memories to make sense of the situation, the Archmage was struck dumb all over again. She had meant to regain her composure, but events had taken such a bizarre turn that she only felt dizzy again.

But... but who wouldn't? Who would expect someone to suddenly step in and end an entire argument with his fists? Especially when the person wielding those fists was, by profession, a seeker of knowledge.

"Er, you. I mean, I mean, this is..."

"I heard you called for me?"

Meanwhile, he appeared to feel no regret whatsoever about what he had done. Completely ignoring the person he had knocked unconscious, he got straight to the reason for his visit. The Archmage was left speechless once more.

She had t-tried to call for him, yes. She had indeed wanted to speak with Meister.

But surely th-this wasn't the time for a conversation...?

"Weren't you looking for me?"

"I was, but..."

"Then let's talk."

"No, well..."

The problem was the unconscious Inquisitor at his feet. Unable to bring herself to say it, the Archmage merely lowered her gaze. Meister followed it.

"Oh, it's fine."

"What the hell is fine about this?!"

Deathbringer finally exploded. His earlier outburst had come from sorrow and anger; this time, his fury consisted entirely of bewilderment and dismay.

"But everyone will believe me if I say I thought it over, got pissed off at that bastard, and hit him."

"You think that will work?!"

"I'm telling you, it will."

"I don't believe you, and if that really works as an excuse, isn't there something wrong with the way you live?!"

But Meister was no easy opponent.

"I've always lived this way."

Blue Coral, how on earth had he raised his grandson?

The Archmage suddenly wanted to see her friend's face.

Is It a Problem if the Protagonist Is a Roleplay Fanatic? (Serial)

Author │ Hae Inseol

Publisher │ Kim Juhyeong

Published by │ Jple Media Co., Ltd.

Marketing │ Han Jaehyeok

Address │ Suite 1101, 11, Digital-ro 33-gil, Guro-gu, Seoul (Guro-dong, Ace Techno Tower 8, 11th Floor)

Email │ [email protected]

Website │ http://blog.naver.com/jayplemedia1

ⓒ Hae Inseol 2022

※ This work is published by Jple Media Co., Ltd. under an agreement with the copyright holder. No part of its content may be used in any form or by any means without permission from the company and the author.

Violations may result in criminal and civil liability.