Chapter 179
Daphne was genuinely in a great mood, not just from landing a blow on Lani during their first meeting, but from having thoroughly needled him besides. Ah, what a relief! Daphne chuckled to herself.
It was then.
“Um, Lady Daphne?”
Shio, standing beside her, hesitating, spoke up quietly.
“Yes. What?”
Daphne replied casually, but Shio couldn’t feel casual about it at all. Why, you ask?
-Your cruelty, summoning innocent souls against their will, forcing them into becoming garbage bins for causal fate.
-Your utterly repulsive contradiction, deliberately turning a blind eye to it, only to regret it belatedly.
How could anyone feel casual after hearing words like that!
To say it again, Shio truly, deeply regretted it all. Failing to properly stop the creation of the Calamity, turning a blind eye because it wasn’t his problem, and only ever watching the Calamity from a distance, never daring to help her—he’d been too busy caring for humans rather than the Calamity—he regretted every last bit of it.
And not just that. He found himself thoroughly disgusted that he’d only come to apologize to the Calamity and take her to heart after receiving her help. Yes. Just as Daphne had said, it was a thoroughly repulsive contradiction.
So Shio wanted to apologize once more.
But an apology for such a terrible wrong couldn’t be mere words. It could only be graciously accepted once accompanied by some form of restitution. In a case like this, an apology was poison, never a sweet fruit.
“Um, that, uh, hm.”
So Shio hesitated, then let out a sigh and dropped his head.
“Never mind. It’s nothing.”
There was nothing he could do to help Daphne right now. As he currently stood, he couldn’t even dare to make Daphne into the great being she deserved to be. So…
“Later. I’ll tell you later.”
Once he’d grown stronger than he was now.
Once he could truly help Daphne.
Only then could he finally offer his apology.
Shio smiled brightly and held out his hand to Daphne.
“Shall we go now?”
The white tips of his hair fluttered lightly in the breeze. Daphne stared at him for a moment, then smirked and took his hand.
“Let’s go.”
Their clasped hands felt remarkably warm.
Daphne found herself thinking that Shio might, perhaps, truly be on her side after all. Perhaps. Truly, perhaps.
* * *
Several days had passed since the imperial ball ended.
She’d expected the Emperor to fly into a rage and pick a fight over her having rummaged through his lair without permission and attacked it, but surprisingly, that side of things had remained quiet. And so Daphne, letting out a sigh of relief, was currently enjoying an unexpected stretch of rest.
“Ahh.”
Lying in a hammock, Daphne tilted her head back. Then addressed Teiti, who stood holding a large fan.
“Slave. What are you doing. Can’t you fan me harder?”
“Yes, master. I’m already fanning hard enough to pull my arm out of its socket, so please stop complaining.”
“The slave’s been getting a bit mouthy lately.”
“Yes, master. Even a slave has limits to how much he’ll put up with these days.”
“Do you want to get hit?”
“Nooo.”
Teiti laughed and fanned even harder, and Daphne, basking in the breeze—gentle to her, though anyone else watching would have called it a gale—looked up at the clear, bright sky.
“If I could just rest like this forever, I wouldn’t have a single wish left.”
“Liar.”
At that, Artson, seated in the sand nearby building some strange sand structure, cut in.
“Rest forever? No way you’d manage that.”
“Why are you so sure of that?”
“What’s there to be unsure about, given everything you’ve shown us so far. You’re the type whose body breaks out in hives if you don’t stir up trouble. Why are you the only one who doesn’t know that? I’m right, aren’t I, slave?”
As Artson turned toward Teiti, Teiti’s eyes sharpened.
“Only Lady Daphne is allowed to call me ‘slave’! Shut it, blue hair!”
“You crazy elf…!”
There they go again.
Leaving the two of them to their bickering, Daphne fell into thought for a moment.
Breaking out in hives if she didn’t stir up trouble.
Was that really true?
Daphne hummed and pursed her lips.
Honestly, she couldn’t fully deny Artson’s point. Resting was nice, sure, but Daphne loved going out and getting things done too.
Put more precisely, Daphne loved going out, doing work, and then being cheered on by people afterward. Back when she’d been the Calamity, no one had ever cheered for her, not once—far from cheers, she’d received nothing but condemnation and contempt… so treatment like this now felt genuinely, thoroughly joyful.
‘Guess that’s why I keep crawling back out there.’
Daphne let out a hollow laugh and tilted her head back once more.
‘My body.’
Then she found herself recalling the body she’d seen in the Emperor’s lair.
As though drawn by a magnet, the moment she’d laid eyes on her own body, Daphne had felt an overwhelming urge to rush toward it, and had needed considerable willpower to suppress that urge. Some lingering longing for her original body, or perhaps an instinct to return to it, apparently still remained within her. Daphne pressed her tongue firmly against the inside of her cheek and blinked.
‘Should I go back?’
But if she did, what would happen to this body?
-That body is nothing but a curse, and that curse grows stronger and more pronounced with every passing moment. Even suppressed by your own soul, it’s only a matter of time. You will inevitably die.
She recalled Elise’s words.
She had been certain of Daphne’s death. That continuing on as she was would kill her. That she could not survive.
Instead, she had urged Daphne to return to the Calamity’s body. Promising that, if she returned to being the Calamity, every last causal bond would be severed.
Thinking about it on a purely first-order level, entering the Calamity’s body was the correct choice. But, but… Daphne kept finding herself trying to argue the opposite. Ah, yes. She simply didn’t want to return to her original body. She simply wanted to keep living exactly as she was now.
Why, you ask?
“Huh? Daphne! Welcome back!”
Rache, spotting Daphne from a distance, came running toward her.
“Hyaaa!”
Nearby, Arius was practicing swordsmanship alongside Brysa.
Boom!
And Vipera, off in a corner, continuing his experiments while scorching one wall of the annex.
Yes.
She didn’t want to give up this family.
Feeling a surge of emotion rising within her, Daphne curled her body inward, and Rache, arriving beside her, startled, helped her sit up.
“What’s wrong. What’s the matter with you? Are you hurting somewhere? Huh?”
Rache’s eyes darted around anxiously before he realized that Daphne’s body was, after all, “a lump of curses,” and could reasonably conclude that her condition right now was likely far from good.
“Are you alright, Daphne?”
At Rache’s flustered fussing, Daphne let out a heavy breath and lifted her head once more.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Then, with a perfectly unbothered expression, she said.
“I was just lost in thought for a moment.”
“Didn’t look like it, with that scowl all over your face.”
“My face is just naturally unpleasant like that.”
“…”
Rache wanted to say something, but held back for now and nodded instead. Then he glanced anxiously at Daphne.
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
Daphne answered confidently at first, then her expression flickered slightly as she added.
“…did something happen?”
“Just tell me straight whether something happened or not.”
“Hm.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Daphne continued.
“The hero found out.”
“Found out what?”
“My true identity.”
“What?!”
Rache jolted upright in shock.
“That, uh, um, ah, uh, wh-what do we do?”
Heros, of all people, had discovered Daphne’s true identity? That she was Sellus?
And who was it that had killed Sellus? Wasn’t it his own father? So then? What now? What? Wait? What do we do? Rache’s mind spiraled into chaos.
Daphne, as though trying to calm him down, clicked her tongue and spoke in an offhand tone.
“How would I know. That’s something for him to figure out on his own. No need for me to worry myself over it— cough! Ack!”
Right at that moment.
With truly terrible timing, Daphne suddenly began coughing up blood. Cough! Dark red blood spattered out, staining Daphne’s clothes red.
“Daphne!”
“Lady Daphne!”
At that, Rache and Teiti, the two closest to her, rushed over at once, and Daphne tried to say she was fine, but couldn’t manage it.
“Cough! Ack! Ugh…!”
The pain was simply too much today.
Daphne clutched her chest, gritting her teeth so hard blood trickled between them, dripping onto the ground below. Rache stood frozen, unable to bring himself to touch her, before finally murmuring, flatly.
“…Black Butterfly disease.”
Rache reached out with trembling hands and grasped the front of Daphne’s clothing.
And then,
“Two, and a half more… have gone black.”
He saw the blackened wings.
If four wings turn black, Daphne dies.
That was an undeniable, self-evident fact.
