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chapter 4
Love brings ruin.
Belita remembered. The clouds brushing across the blue sky, the wind carrying the weight of summer humidity, the peaceful fields bathed in sunlight.
The clustered houses in the fields, one with a particularly vivid brick-red roof. And the man who lived beneath it.
The man always kept his windows open.
Belita would lie on the roof across from him, admiring him. When the wind crept through the window frame, his chestnut hair would tousle beautifully.
And those sparkling sky-blue eyes beneath it all—he resembled the very colors of summer.
His name was Kesis.
That day too, Belita had come down after observing Kesis. It had become a habit ever since she first noticed him.
As she stepped into the yard, a man dashed out. He hurried past her with a flustered expression.
“Ah, my god! That painter must be a demon!”
She vaguely remembered Kesis mentioning he was the lord. Belita glanced at the man and continued walking.
“I’m back.”
As she stepped over the threshold, Kesis pricked up his ears, immediately turning to the presence at the entrance.
“You’re back?”
“Yeah.”
“I was just looking at some paintings.”
Inside, the easel caught her eye first, as always.
Belita looked at her own portrait on the easel. Though unfinished, it clearly displayed Kesis’ talent.
“Are you going to paint now?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Kesis was a painter—a genius artist.
Those who had seen his work lavished praise without exception, claiming it was a gift from God, a talent that could make the universe weep. Belita agreed.
After all, she herself had been captivated by Kesis’ paintings, a demon drawn in by his art.
“Hmm.”
Belita settled on the bed as usual, tossing her hair like waves and lying sideways, propping her chin on her hand.
“What will you paint today?”
“My hair.”
“You painted that last time.”
“You’re too beautiful to capture all at once. I need to adjust it several times.”
“Really… you paint everything else so easily…”
“How sincere I am, Belita.”
Belita loved Kesis’ paintings—the brushstrokes carrying his perspective, his thoughtful expressions, the calluses on his fingers gripping the brush.
She also loved him.
Kesis brought jars of pigments. Belita threw him a teasing glance, noting how slow he could be. She examined the jars.
He explained that after finishing a painting, a sealant should be applied to protect it.
But today too, there was none.
“I wonder when I’ll see the sealant.”
She wanted Kesis to finish the portrait quickly. She wanted to see herself through his eyes, and him smiling purely at that sight.
Kesis picked up his brush and palette with clean, fluid motions.
Belita knew he would start painting immediately, but as his model, she felt mischievous.
She stared at him with inscrutable eyes, recalling one law of demons: demons pursued nothing but pleasure, amusement, violence, and indulgence.
Boredom? No.
Calm and peacefulness? Meh.
Stability?
…What a joke.
That was instinct for a demon.
Thus, in Belita’s life, driven by instinct, dull worries held no weight.
She devised a plan to tease Kesis. Her red lips traced a painterly curve.
Just as he was about to start, she spoke.
“You know, Kesis?”
“What is it?”
“Your fingers are so… erotic.”
“My fingers…?”
Kesis blinked, startled by her sudden remark.
“Yes.”
Belita let her gaze linger deliberately over his fingers.
Silence followed.
Kesis twitched his hand.
Belita licked her lips with a sly smile.
She thought: just once. Just one bite, roll it in my mouth—how amusing his reaction would be. She lifted her eyelashes.
Swallow.
Kesis’ Adam’s apple moved.
His gaze, which had been following her lips, collided in midair. His pupils trembled.
He lowered his head hastily, his face flushing red.
So shy.
It was always like this lately. He knew what she meant, yet still reacted like a virgin, even after they had shared several nights together. Belita chuckled and sat up.
Only then did Kesis stammer.
“U-uh, if you… move…”
“Move?”
“…Other painters tell their models not to move.”
“Other painters?”
Kesis lifted his head suddenly. His face was still red, but the meek expression was gone. Belita giggled, enjoying this honest reaction.
“You don’t even need that; you paint so well.”
“You said other painters?”
Pretending not to hear, Belita smiled and settled on his thigh. Why bother pretending? He wasn’t going to remain proper anyway.
Belita’s hand crawled up Kesis’ shoulder like a spider. He remained silent, unable to question her actions.
“Why so quiet?”
Belita shook her hips teasingly. The thin summer fabric whispered against her skin.
Kesis’ mouth tensed as his lower body reacted; the corners trembled.
Belita laughed.
So beautiful. She pressed her lips to his, playfully biting his lower lip.
Her playful hand traced up Kesis’ brush-holding fingers. Belita withdrew her lips.
“Want me to suck?”
“Huh… w-what?”
“Your fingers. I said they’re erotic.”
She slipped her fingers between his and the brush, teasing him. Her nails scratched his fingers gently.
After gauging his reaction, she interlaced her fingers with his, knocking the wooden brush onto the stone floor.
A sound of restrained frustration came from above. Belita’s lips curved in a victorious smile.
She knew: just as demons have no lasting worries, Kesis’ patience lasted less than a second.
“…I’ll go wash my hands.”
As expected, Kesis turned as red as a tomato, squeezing his eyes shut. He lifted Belita onto the table and pressed his lips to hers.
“…Don’t run away like last time.”
“When did I?”
“A week ago at this time. You fanned me first, then ran away.”
Oh, he remembered the exact time?
Belita shrugged innocently. Kesis eyed her suspiciously.
He crawled toward the sink, reluctant but following her orders.
“You must stay there!”
So frantic, yet still doubtful.
“…Heh.”
Belita watched his flustered retreat.
“Ahaha!”
Even that clumsy figure pleased her.
“Such a fool…”
It was certainly love.
Belita opened her eyes.
His warmth, his gaze, his voice… everything felt vivid.
Reaching out, she could feel Kesis’ skin. Breathing in, his scent filled her lungs.
She would never forget that night. Nor the nights that followed.
Kesis was truly a devil’s delight. Belita knew: no man so pure, so easily corrupted, could provide such pleasure, nor one who learned so fast could satisfy a demon.
So yes, I must have loved him.
Thinking of Kesis unleashed emotions she didn’t know she had, forming a ticking emotional bomb within her.
She imagined her heart, pounding like a blazing bomb, finally exploding.
Enduring, enduring, until it finally detonated, leaving quiet.
And standing over the collapsed heart was always Kesis.
“Ah…”
Kesis kneeled, crouching forward to meet her.
Belita reached out.
“…Kesis.”
She caressed his face—longed for, loved, resented, and inexplicable.
He smiled as he had the last time, tears streaming endlessly from the corners of his eyes.
But it was all false. It didn’t exist. All a hallucination…
Belita’s hands fell limply. Kesis’ vision vanished like a mirage.
Where a long-time lover had been, only endless darkness remained. She was trapped there.
No sound, no light, no time. All the world cut off. Endless void.
Belita had long been sealed by the hands of the one she loved most.
“….”
She clenched and unclenched her fists.
Though enveloped in darkness, one thing was certain: her demise was near.
Why? Her demonic energy had nearly depleted.
A demon, in essence, was a being that fed only through humans. They gained power by instilling fear, granting wishes, and accumulating fame.
They grew stronger by fulfilling human wishes, and their names spread as they became more sought after.
In other words, a demon lived only by obtaining power through humans.
“Haha…”
Belita remembered her glorious past. A great demon who fulfilled countless wishes, living on in human memories.
How brilliant that past had been. Few in the land did not know her. All praised her as a god and desired her to grant their wishes.
“Do you really believe that rumor?”
“Of course! How else would that border lord get rich if not through the demon?”
“But still, giving only a soul for a contract… does that make sense?”
A demon fulfills wishes, but the soul is supposedly unnecessary as long as the wish remains alive.
“Of course it does! That soul becomes the demon’s power. We just arrange the deal now and pay later.”
“Still… it feels unsettling…”
“Well, why die? Enjoy life while alive.”
They only take the soul after death; that’s the price. No matter the class, gender, or age, all would seek Belita.
“How absurd…”
Yet all those who once followed her so devoutly had vanished. Belita bit her lip.
A demon like her could maintain some power just by being remembered. A demon’s power stemmed from human memory.
“But now, in this state…”
Belita scoffed. With all that fame, her name should have endured through generations.
Especially at the end, just before being sealed…
“…I laid waste to the region.”
Her name should have lived on as a legend.
Thus, for almost no one to remember her meant someone had erased her from human memory through strange means.
Moreover, enough time had passed for generational memory to be affected.
Belita laughed.
“Even after years, people will remember you.”
“I will too.”
“But you will forget me, like all your past lovers.”
Kesis’ voice lingered in her mind.
“Remember me forever.”
Even if she encouraged him to ask for anything, Kesis had little desire beyond her. Pure, youthful, naive emotions were all he offered.
Far from greedy, Kesis said at the end: even if hated, cursed, or killed, never forget him. That was his wish.
Then he sealed Belita.
Using the god Rastaban and his followers, he locked her inside the very portrait he had dedicated to her.
But Kesis’ prediction was wrong. Belita had lost too much power to recall her glorious past.
Forgotten by many due to Kesis’ and Rastaban’s deeds.
Even Kesis, who had promised to remember her, would eventually be erased by time.
All predictions had failed.
The only thing left true: damn it, Belita still remembered Kesis.
