THTSN 32

Chapter 32

“Toward our bright future?”
“…That killed the mood.”

Even as he muttered that, the boss took my hand and stepped forward. Joshua, tense as ever, let out a shallow breath the moment we crossed the boundary.

I followed behind the boss, our hands still clasped. Nearly half of the long hallway had expanded into a wider space. He walked to the end of it, opened a door to an empty room, and stepped right in without hesitation.

It looked as if the space had widened into a large oval shape. The boss stood still, silently gazing at the empty room.

Joshua’s eyes filled with emotion.
“How about moving the lab next door? It’d be great if you slept together too! I think you’d recover even faster that way! Make sure you hold each other while you sleep, okay?”

…Was he playing Cupid right now?

“So I have to hold the boss…”
“Sleep separately. There’s still a clear line between men and women.”
“…Zer, you even know about that? Didn’t you once lose your mind over that woman and—mph!”
“…”
“Hmph!”

I crossed my arms and pretended to sulk, and he looked genuinely baffled.
“Why are you saying hmph?”
“It just felt like the right mood for it.”

We continued exploring within the expanded area. Joshua monitored the time, and the mage checked my divine power.

My legs ached, but since the boss seemed quietly pleased to be walking again, I didn’t complain.

When the bell signaled midnight, Joshua said,
“Time doesn’t seem to affect it. Good. But if you go beyond the boundary, you two have to stay close together and can’t move too far apart…”

Mumbling as if to confirm it, Joshua jotted down notes in his journal. He grumbled under his breath, unsatisfied.
“So Zer can’t wander around alone.”

The boss roughly ruffled Joshua’s hair.
“You’re asking for too much all at once.”

The mage widened his eyes, pretending to be shocked.
“I can’t believe you, the most greedy person here, just said that. My heart hurts!”
“Then let it.”

After we returned to the room, the boss kicked both Joshua and the mage out.

I hugged his arm tightly and said,
“You should still consider sleeping together.”
“…”
He looked appalled.
“No. Just… hold my hand instead.”
“This way we’re closer though!”
“…Whatever.”

Was that… pouting?
Should I call him cute?

He tugged my hand and pulled out a letter from a drawer. It bore the seal of the Crown Prince.
“A letter from His Highness?”
“He’s not nearly that romantic.”

There was a faint trace of humor in his tone, so I chuckled softly.
“I wonder if I’m allowed to read it.”
“He gave it to you to read—oh, you’re already opening it.”

He gently grasped my wrist and sat me down on the sofa. The letter was brief—just a note saying the prince would come visit soon.

“Is it about the Saint?”
“Definitely.”
“He’s coming to scold you for yelling at his lover?”
“No. He’ll come to apologize instead.”
“Huh?”
“Yubellin’s charm is her innocence, but Terrence knows well how that same innocence causes recklessness—and he supports her from behind. I didn’t do that.”
“I feel like you would’ve just been reckless together.”

He nodded casually.
That world-weariness in him made me squeeze his hand without realizing it.
“That’s just my style.”
“So… do you regret not supporting her?”
“Not really.”

He fell silent. It wasn’t Yubellin he missed, but the memories.
He didn’t want to deny those days or badmouth his friends.

At the same time, he must have felt resentment—he was trapped here while those two were free, and even the Saint had used him.

I understood him.

Folding the letter, I placed it on the table.
“By the way, if this is the limit of the space, can’t we go downward as long as we stay within it?”
“Your imagination’s something else. No.”
“How do you know without trying?”
“If the curse the demon of Serael cast were that flimsy, I would’ve broken it ages ago.”
“So you did try?”
“…”

He avoided my eyes. I grinned mischievously at him until he got flustered, stood up, and sat at his desk again, scribbling formulas.

While he worked, he explained the cursed space to me.
“Think of it like a single veil stretched over the space I’m in.”
“A veil… meaning it’s dark?”
“Yeah.”

He said it so naturally that I blinked, unsure I heard right.
“So, it’s darkness?”
He nodded calmly. I frowned.
“Then that pair of glasses…”
“They’re useless. I just wear them so I don’t have to show my face.”
“Even if you open the curtains, no sunlight comes in?”
“None.”
“Even if we go toward the balcony?”
“The space expanded, but the darkness stays the same.”
“Then why not brighten it up somehow?”
“Because the brighter it gets, the more I’ll crave what I can’t have.”

He had learned resignation—the art of not desiring what he could never see.

Pity swelled in my chest. My heart should’ve hurt, but it didn’t, so I just rubbed the spot absently.

Then I noticed him watching me. I quickly dropped my hand.
“If you light a candle, does it look bright?”
“Yeah. Artificial light still works.”
“Hmm… Then if someone comes from beyond the boundary, can you see or hear them?”
“I can. I just can’t leave. But I only see them—the rest is pitch-black.”

So in other words, he could only see people or objects floating in the darkness.
“How… is that possible?”

How had he endured that darkness for nearly two years?
“That’s what makes it a curse.”

He said it so flatly that all I could do was stare at him.

The boss placed a small stone in a drawn magic circle and spoke the incantation. The circle glowed, but the stone shattered into dust. Whatever he was making, it might’ve been supposed to turn into dirt—if so, success.

But his expression was unreadable. Since he started jotting new formulas, I assumed it was a failure.

I poked his shoulder with my finger. I often did that when he was deep in research.
“How did the curse land exactly on this room?”
“Joshua told me. He said to fix myself to one place—any place.”

Once the curse activated, if the boss didn’t anchor himself, he’d be trapped in the middle, immobilized for everyone to see.

“And he added something else.”
“What?”
“That he didn’t care if a few people died. He told me to just move comfortably—but Terrence and Yubellin disagreed.”

I clenched my finger without realizing it, pressing it into his shoulder.
“You’re poking me with your nail.”
“Ah—sorry.”

For the sake of the citizens, Terrence and Yubellin had made the right call. They had to separate dangerous individuals before the curse spread.

Honestly, they’d done their best.
They chose to save the Empire’s people over one friend.

So I could never blame them. I probably would’ve done the same.
The problem was not that choice—but that others used and neglected the one who made the sacrifice.

The boss had accepted their decision willingly. He alone bore everything.
It was him—not Terrence or Yubellin—who was sustaining this Empire.

He didn’t deserve the way the Saint treated him.

Anyone who sacrifices for their nation deserves to be honored, not forgotten.
But those two left him to rot—as if he’d never existed—even though they knew why peace still lasted.

The more I thought about it, the more my chest burned, so I forced myself to stop empathizing too much.

“When you got to this room, the boundary formed right away?”
“Yeah.”
“So you haven’t seen sunlight at all since then?”

He answered with silence.

For two years, he hadn’t seen the pale dawn, the warm daylight, the soft afternoon sky, or the stars and moon at night.

The loneliness, the despair, the exhaustion—none of it was something I could truly comprehend.

And then I appeared, expanding the boundaries of his world. He must’ve been torn between fear and hope.

That’s why I have to do this right.