PUBW 46

Chapter 46

I needed to figure out my connection with Caius, but what I was most curious about right now was Keenan.

Would he no longer be a threat to me? Or would he end up using me and cause me to lose the people around me? That’s what I worried about.

“…You don’t remember?”

Keenan’s hand, which had been moving across the canvas, lowered to rest on his thigh.

“Yeah. I barely have any memories of my past life. You came to me when I was verifying my holy power the other day.”

After hearing my explanation, Keenan began moving his hand again.

“You saved me.”

“I did?”

My brows furrowed instinctively.

That the Saintess, Eluna, had spared the demon who deceived her—it was hard to believe.

“Relax your face. You’ll look ugly in the painting.”

I quickly forced on a natural smile. I had seen at the exhibition just how skilled Keenan was.

“Then why are you making such a sulky face in front of your savior?”

“This is just my neutral expression.”

“What happened to that mischievous little boy Keenan?”

“When you live a thousand years, your personality changes.”

Well, that made sense. Who would have thought this steady-looking young man was actually a thousand-year-old grandfather?

“Why did I save you?”

“So you’d spend your life suffering, atoning for killing the priest I mentioned.”

Hmm. Young Eluna had been quite strong-willed.

“So, did you atone?”

“No.”

Keenan answered shamelessly.

“Relax your face, I said. You look ugly.”

“You didn’t repent even once in a thousand years? And yet you dare show up in front of me?”

“Eluna. I’m a demon. I’ve suffered for a thousand years, but I don’t feel remorse for that human. Would you feel sorry for killing the mosquito that bit you all night?”

What a vile example.

“So you’re insulting humans in front of me, saying we’re no different from those corrupt beings?”

“You’re different from other humans.”

“No, I’m the same.”

I shot to my feet, harshly.

I felt sorry for Seth. In my past life, he had died unfairly because of me, and in the end, he never got the apology he deserved from his murderer.

“Eluna.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not her. I’m Charlize Retel.”

Keenan put down his tools and approached me.

Why were demons always so tall and broad? It was intimidating.

“Charlize. Do you still hate me?”

“Yes.”

“For deceiving you into thinking I wasn’t a demon, and for killing that man?”

“At least you’re self-aware.”

Keenan grabbed my hand, trying to seat me back down in the chair.

Startled by the sudden closeness of his huge frame, I had no choice but to sit.

“Then use me. I’ve already joined Caius’s plan. I’m sure I can be of help to you.”

“Why should I trust you? Didn’t you conveniently leave out the part where my body was bound at the fountain? You probably planned to help him kill me.”

Maybe I was jumping to conclusions.

But he’d said it himself—demons can’t repent for killing humans. I was human, too. How could I expect different?

Listening to my accusations in silence, Keenan opened his hand. A pitch-black orb floated above his palm.

He placed it into mine.

“What is this?”

I asked sharply, and Keenan answered calmly.

“My core. Break it, and I’ll be annihilated. I swear I won’t ever harm the humans around you again. If I break that promise, you can destroy this.”

“You…”

I had heard of something similar.

Although books on demons were forbidden, information on monsters had been passed down to protect people.

In monster hunting, you had to find and destroy their core to kill them instantly.

I hadn’t realized demons had the same weakness.

“Now, can you believe me?”

I looked down at the black orb resting in my palm. It resembled a black pearl.

“I don’t need this.”

“Just keep it.”

“No. What if I break it by accident?”

“It’s not that fragile. You’d have to stab it with a sword or smash it with a hammer.”

Keenan insisted, clearly trying to earn my trust by handing me his lifeline.

“It feels ominous. Things like this always end up being destroyed at the worst possible time.”

Like a knight going off to war looking at a family portrait, or someone saying, ‘Let’s meet again alive,’ only to never return.

“I said no—”

“Hey.”

I called out to the demon trying to hand me his death warrant in a chilling tone.

“My holy power is more than enough to kill you, so just keep it to yourself.”

“…”

After hearing my reasoning, Keenan obediently took it back.

I stayed in my chair, adjusting my posture again.

“What are you doing? Hurry up and paint.”

Keenan looked at me with an incredulous expression but held back his words, sitting back at the easel.

That’s when I asked the question I truly wanted answered.

“What’s Caius’s plan?”

“There’s only one thing a demon wants in the mortal realm. Conquest.”

So another demon war could break out.

My teeth clenched. How much sacrifice had it cost to protect this land?

“Didn’t the Demon King perish? Did I fail after all?”

“No. He’s gone now. The throne is vacant, but as long as there’s a group, a leader will always emerge.”

“And that leader now is Caius.”

Caius, with his black hair and red eyes, was compared to Artif and admired as if he were an angel. Not just his looks—his gentle personality, too.

Who would believe that he was actually the leader of the demons, replacing the Demon King?

“Correct. But he’s only a half-demon.”

“Half?”

“His body is human. He implanted his core into a human body and took it over. He probably can’t even use half of his original power.”

So that was why Caius could move freely everywhere.

“Then what happened to the body’s original owner?”

“Dead.”

Caius really did treat human lives as worthless.

“Then how did a half-demon become leader of the demons?”

“I haven’t seen it myself, but even with his limited strength, he’s stronger than any demon still left in the mortal realm. His command over them is unquestioned.”

I shuddered. What if he somehow got his real body back?

“Did he take a human body to control his overwhelming strength?”

“No. That’s impossible. Once a core inhabits another body, the original body disappears.”

I fell silent, lost in thought.

A powerful demon inhabiting a human body, preparing to start a second demon war.

There was only one thing I could do. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to die again, leaving Artif behind, like last time.

I froze.

I hadn’t even figured out yet if Artif was really Calix. More importantly—we weren’t anything to each other.

“Charlize. Do you want to take a break? You look overheated.”

“Huh? Oh?”

I looked at Keenan, flustered.

“Your face is red.”

“Th-That’s right! I’ll just go have tea with the Countess, so you rest too!”

I shot up from my seat, escaping the room as if fleeing.

The Countess of Gren sipped her tea and said,

“To be honest, I was really shocked when Keenan said he wanted to paint your portrait.”

“Why?”

“You saw at the exhibition, didn’t you? That blond child who appeared in his paintings.”

I nodded. It was awkward to pretend ignorance when I knew that child had been me.

“Keenan has never painted a person besides that child.”

“Really?”

“He’s so stubborn. I even bought him exotic, rare paints and gave him a studio, but he absolutely refused to paint me. I was so annoyed I couldn’t sleep at night.”

Her complaining tone was laced with affection—it was clear she cherished him.

“Then you must have been even more upset when he decided to paint me.”

“Not upset, exactly… It felt more like when a disobedient son suddenly brings home a lovely girlfriend and treats her well.”

Her spot-on description made me burst out laughing.

The Countess looked at me and added,

“Now that I think about it, you and the child in Keenan’s paintings do look alike.”

“Do we?”

I had never once thought I resembled Eluna.

The child in the painting and the grown-up Eluna looked nothing like me.

“It’s more of a feeling. Oh, and there’s another similarity.”

“What is it?”

“You’re both beautiful. That aloof young man turned out to be just another man after all. I suppose he just didn’t want to paint an old lady like me.”

“How could you say that? You’re stunning, Countess. I’ve heard that when you accepted Count Gren’s proposal, many young noblemen wept in heartbreak.”

“That was ages ago. Besides, the Duchess was far more popular.”

Her soft brown eyes grew hazy with nostalgia.

Just as our conversation bloomed, someone knocked on the door.

“Countess, it’s Keenan.”