MLWP 42

Chapter 42

“Was it a coincidence?”

Though brief in actual time, the silence felt almost eternal, violently pressing down between the two of them.

Cilia broke the quiet, deliberately giving strength to her voice as she whispered,

“Why are you staring like that?”

Some of the words she had wanted to say spilled out upon seeing him.

“You didn’t start over from when you were a baby, right? I don’t think you’ve lived your whole life over again.”

It was almost a certainty in her mind. Ilrod in the first other world she had seen, after dying and looking into the mirror, was exactly seventeen years old.

In every other vision, he was around that age, and there were no memories of him being younger. If there had been, one would assume that he returned to that age each time he died.

“Let’s assume you started at seventeen. From what I can see, you died each time at an age similar to my previous life. So twenty-three? Three cycles of six years each… that’s about eighteen years?”

Eighteen years. Less than the twenty-three years Cilia had originally lived. She had endured a longer life full of filth, humiliation, and suffering—rolling in debt, experiencing every hardship imaginable.

If he retained all the abilities from previous lives while repeating the cycle, maybe next time he could have defeated the Heart of the Earth.

The thought made her increasingly resentful.

“Do you think calling me a spineless bastard is unfair?”

It wasn’t a question expecting an answer. Even as she met his gaze, it was essentially an illusion. All of this could have been her imagination. She just wanted to say what she had always wanted to, as it would ease her mind.

Then, suddenly, Ilrod spoke.

“I know too.”

“What?”

Cilia’s pupils widened. He smiled bitterly before being swallowed by the darkness as if fleeing.

“I… know.”

A lightning-like sensation struck.

‘It’s real.’

He was both an illusion and real. Instinctively, her legs moved first.

“Where do you think you’re running, you bastard!”

If she didn’t seize him now, she wouldn’t know when the next chance would come.

At that very moment, the blood-red sky turned back into the night sky. The threatening whisper returned—a whisper of liquid.

• Stay here…
• It’s hard for you too, isn’t it? Burdensome, isn’t it?

Cilia lifted the limp Perriot. Even when she infused him with magic, he remained unresponsive, like a corpse, and she couldn’t tear through the space as cleanly as she expected. In a moment’s pause, sticky liquid clung to her ankles. The voice came again.

• Let’s give up… let’s be at ease…

The voice was overwhelmingly sweet, almost comforting enough to convince one it was okay to surrender. For an instant, it felt like all her strength was leaving her body.

But.

“…Go away.”

She didn’t know exactly what the liquid was, but it was part of the demonic beast she had defeated. She had no reason to listen to it.

Her grip on the sword tightened. The increasingly narrow space didn’t bother her.

“You want me to give up now?”

Even when she had been buried under debts, dying, or in the midst of battle, she had never thought like that. Even at moments she thought life was over, she had survived by sheer will. That perseverance had brought her to this moment.

“Don’t spew nonsense!”

She refused to believe her struggles had been meaningless.

It had been a life in which she had done her best.

“I won’t die, you bastards.”

As she gritted her teeth, the liquid tightened instantly. At the same time, a distant voice echoed like a call.

“…Cilia.”

“Cilia!”

Cilia swung Perriot repeatedly toward the direction of the echo. The space began to tear. As soon as light leaked through the gap, she charged forward. The liquid reached for her like grasping hands, but Cilia was faster.

“Cilia!”

Crash.

The thin membrane that had surrounded them shattered, breaking the liquid’s barrier that trapped Cilia.

Crondel and Flier caught her as she emerged from the space.

Thud!

The three of them fell together. The impact was minimal.

Cilia whispered softly,

“…I thought we were outside?”

“Suddenly the sky returned to normal, and the Mage Tower’s barrier was lifted. It startled me,” said Flier.

“I’m not sure exactly what happened… are you all right?”

Looking around, it seemed that only a few people had been left outside to control things; everyone else had entered. From afar, Alec Phillips was watching other Mage Tower mages regain their senses. The tower’s master was also attending to Lyman Jaikal. The tower’s structure seemed to have returned to normal.

Looking back, the liquid that had enveloped her had dried into ash, crumbling to dust. Only remnants remained. It appeared that it had exhausted all its power and died.

‘I should have caught it.’

She was frustrated at having missed him, but perhaps it was fortunate they met this way.

“Chasing it has its own thrill.”

Without realizing it, she said this with a fire in her voice. Both Crondel and Flier looked at her simultaneously, concern still written on their faces.

“Are you really okay?”

“Cilia, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself…”

Ah, she had something to say to them.

“…Thanks.”

“Huh?”

“What did you just say?”

Though she had missed that bastard, thanks to them she had avoided being crushed and killed in the liquid.

Cilia gave a faint smile toward Crondel and Flier.

“Thank you for calling me.”

“Demonic beast’s blood?”

After the incident had been roughly settled, Cilia, lying on the long sofa in the center of Diamanga’s reception room, spoke.

Some might have called it rude, but in reality, Cilia hadn’t chosen that position willingly… the commotion of everyone around her forced her to lie down.

“You need to rest for a while. If you can’t, at least stay lying down.”

“Eong-sik is right, Cilia. Look at my face and take a break.”

“Cilia, I’m really worried…”

Once the situation had been roughly managed, except for Crondel, who rushed off before being caught violating regulations, Flier, Julin, and Margaret all strongly insisted she rest.

‘…Over half of it wasn’t even my blood.’

When she tore through the space, dried blood was all over her mouth and clothes.

Some had spilled while using her magic, and most of it was Lyman’s blood. But such explanations didn’t matter. The servants and guards subtly pressured her as well upon her return.

“Excellent bodies come from excellent rest.”

Even the muscular chef who brought a lavish recovery meal said so.

So, on one of the few afternoons after the Mage Tower incident was mostly resolved, Cilia remained lying in the reception room like this.

Once tea had been served to everyone, Carla Diamang, seated across from her in Flier’s place at the aristocrats’ strategy meeting, spoke.

“It hasn’t been officially announced yet. Only a few noble families know. Before Lyman Jaikal lost consciousness, he said it was the blood of a demonic beast.”

“Is it credible?”

“Considering the Jaikal family hasn’t specifically refuted it, yes.”

“So, the family must know something about the blood of the demonic beast?”

“Jaikal is one of the kingdom’s foremost magical families, unmatched in practical and theoretical magic. They’ve produced Mage Tower masters before. They would know a great deal about magic… so they’d have some knowledge of demonic beasts as well.”

“I knew he was the son of a prominent noble, but to that extent?”

“Yes. The family even has a secret magical formula passed down through generations and handles magical tools. The magical orbs illuminating Diamang’s garden were made by the Jaikals. They’re a prestigious magical house.”

‘No wonder the kid’s pride is so strong.’

It was a justified pride. At the same time, she was glad she had cleared her debts.

‘There’s a lot to extract…’

Really a lot. She decided to claim repayment thoroughly.

‘But this is the blood of a demonic beast?’

A liquid resembling the night sky, sweet-smelling ash.

Having faced many demonic beasts in both past lives and through Ilrod’s memories, she had encountered multiple before. She could be confident in this.

“Demonic beasts don’t bleed like that.”

They only bleed if cut; otherwise, not like this.

“If it’s okay, I’ll explain from there.”

A lively voice, giggling softly, chimed in. Carla spoke.

“…Of course it’s okay, Master of the Mage Tower. I’m sorry we cannot treat you better. The head of the house will return from the meeting soon…”

“Don’t worry. Treat them as an ordinary guest.”

“…That’s…?”

Carla looked at Akla with eyes that clearly said, Are you serious?

Cilia shook her head. If she gave up, it would be easy. She was always a bit stubborn. Carla sighed at her gaze. Cilia turned to the Mage Tower master for an explanation on behalf of everyone else.

“Explanation?”

“Demonic beasts regenerate even if limbs are severed, even if their necks are cut, as long as the heart remains.”

“Right.”

“They are incredibly regenerative. Some tried to take advantage of that. They first neutralized the beast, then located the individual heart of each one and extracted it. By purifying the heart in a certain way…”

“You mean that’s how the liquid is produced?”

“Yes. Left alone, nothing happens. But when it comes into contact with a living being, it reacts, regenerating into a demonic beast. That liquid is called demonic beast’s blood. I wasn’t part of that experiment, so I don’t know the details; I was working on other research then.”

Cilia spoke with serious eyes.

“Considering Lyman’s case, it seems like a dangerous technique.”

“You’re sharp. That purification method was abandoned long ago. All involved in the research died. But the fact it has surfaced now…”

The Mage Tower master’s expression turned grave.

“I suspect someone stole the purification method from the kingdom’s forbidden archives.”