Chapter 40

Chapter 40

We spent a long time talking as we celebrated the joy of our reunion. Only then did it truly sink in that the maid who had taken care of me all this time had turned out to be my companion from my previous life.

It was because her manner of speaking, her gaze, and her expressions were filled with Ryeong’s presence. It made me wonder even more how I had failed to realize it until now.

‘Come to think of it, there were times when Cecil and Ryeong seemed to overlap…….’

Back then, I thought I had simply mistaken the two because I had just woken up from a dream, but looking back now, I might have been unconsciously overlapping them all along.

“It’s true that my previous life was Ryeong, but that’s only a previous life. The me now is Cecil…. From now on as well, I will live as Cecil, the head maid of Ran Winterbell.”

My gaze went to her empty arm and her eyepatch. The arm she had offered as the price to turn back time, and the eye she had sacrificed to obtain that holy relic. Everything had been a sacrifice she made for me alone.

That was why I intended to repay this debt in some way, no matter what. Of course, that did not mean repaying it with love.

I was deeply grateful for the excessive love she had given me, but that did not mean I could suddenly come to feel romantic love for her.

Ryeong of my previous life had been a precious companion to me, and Cecil of the present was in a similar position. One might become conscious of someone after realizing that they loved you, but you do not suddenly fall in love with them.

Emotions were not that simple. And doing so would not be proper courtesy to her, who had loved me all this time, and I knew well that she did not wish for that either.

“So, Young Master can do whatever Young Master wants to do. No matter what Young Master does, I will serve you and stay by your side until the very end. Of course, I will also do what I want to do. Living for over a hundred years with nothing but unrequited love would be unfair, wouldn’t it?”

So for now, we decided not to give each other an answer. Someday, we would have to sort this out, but for the present, the priority was to run toward the goal right in front of us.

For some reason, the part about ‘I will also do what I want to do’ sounded a bit chilling, but at this point, I did not doubt her. Cecil was the only human being I could trust.

Of course, my severe distrust of people had not been completely cured. From the start, it was not the kind of thing that could be healed so easily.

I simply chose to believe.

No matter what suspicions arose, no matter what delusions crept in, I would just believe.

If every single action she had shown me had been meticulously calculated just to deceive me……

I would just die.

No.

I would destroy this world, and then die.

I would wipe out the gods, humans, and every living being that existed in this world, then die.

Why?

Just because.

Because if something like that happened, it would be too damn unbearable to endure.

So I decided to believe.

That it would not happen.

At the very least, the woman I had seen deserved that much trust.

“That old woman who gave Cecil the holy relic of the gods… she introduced herself as a guest from outside, didn’t she?”

“Yes. She definitely said that.”

“And the god inside the clock also said, ‘That damn voyeur freak’s been messing around again.’”

“Yes. Why are you asking about that all of a sudden?”

“I’m starting to think that old woman might be the God of Play.”

“The God of Play?”

I nodded and pointed to the cross-shaped mark in my left eye.

“Can you see this?”

“Yes. It’s shaped like a cross…”

“This is the proof that I made a deal with the God of Play. A mark engraved on my soul.”

In the past, I had once encountered the God of Play. I could tell at a glance that he wasn’t human. Every time the eerie aura radiating from his whole body touched my skin, it sent chills down my spine.

Outwardly, he looked like an ordinary old man, but somehow, when I closed my eyes, I felt as if thousands, tens of thousands of eyes were staring at me.

At that time, I was prepared to die.

And he proposed a deal to me.

He called it a deal, but in truth, it was more like a one-sided notice. He went on with nonsense about always being bored and craving entertainment. Basically, he demanded that I entertain him.

Disaster always strikes without warning. Faced with that incomprehensible calamity that had appeared out of nowhere, the only thing I could do was accept the deal.

Whatever it was, it seemed better than dying like that.

After muttering strange words, he introduced himself as the “God of Play,” and engraved this mark in my left eye, saying it was proof of our deal.

Thinking back on it now, I began to wonder if that had been the condition for reincarnation.

After all, both Cecil and I had met him.

“You’re saying we were able to reincarnate because of that old woman? But I met her after I was already reborn, though?”

“…That’s true.”

I didn’t know how we had been given a second life, but the fact that both Ryeong and I had reincarnated led me to think that perhaps our other companions might have reincarnated as well.

‘The God of Play.’

A being who referred to himself as an outsider. Judging by the scope of his interference, I could already deduce that he was a divine being. It made me wonder if he was truly a god from the outside.

He was certainly not a being meant for humanity.

I never held good feelings toward the so-called gods to begin with, but the self-proclaimed God of Play went beyond that—he radiated a kind of repulsiveness that made me feel I should never be involved with him.

A malevolent god.

While I was deep in conversation, Cecil pulled out a pair of daggers from her arms. My eyes widened at the sight.

“These are…!”

Cecil nodded and said,

“Ganjiang and Moye.”

“…How did you get those?”

“Someone had buried them in my grave. I happened to visit it by chance and felt the energy of the two blades. Though right now, they’re nothing more than pearls around a pig’s neck.”

That meant she had not yet been chosen by the swords, and therefore couldn’t draw out their power.

Ganjiang and Moye.

In the past, Ganjiang and Moye had been Ryeong’s beloved weapons—divine blades said to choose their own master.

Unusually, these swords had been created from the beginning as a pair, which is why they were referred to as the “married blades.” When handled separately, they were no different from ordinary swords, but when wielded together, they exhibited performance so extraordinary that one would never believe they were the same weapons.

Ryeong hadn’t originally come from the Empire. She had been a trained assassin from the island nation of the Kingdom of Japan, located to the east of the Empire.

That clan had passed down the role of assassin as a hereditary profession for generations, and Ryeong was so talented that she had even been called the next “King of Assassins.”

Ganjiang and Moye were weapons forged by a master craftsman from Ryeong’s homeland, who had poured his very soul into their creation.

“They buried these in a grave? Who the hell would do that…?”

I couldn’t understand it. Unless someone was blind, they would have realized just how valuable these weapons were. So who in their right mind would bury them in a grave?

No—before even that—how did they get hold of these weapons in the first place?

“Don’t tell me… did those lunatics Saladin and Bestia kill us and take back all our weapons too?”

“…If that’s true, then it’s seriously chilling. Well, it wouldn’t be strange. I mean, they already stabbed their comrades in the back—doing something worse wouldn’t be out of character.”

A show of minimal sympathy? Or something like that? ‘We killed you, but at least we’ll bury the weapons you once fought with alongside you?’

“Was there a grave for me there too?”

Cecil shook her head.

“Well, yeah… I was called humanity’s enemy and all that. No way they’d make a grave for me. Wait—then what about Ivaki and Nia’s graves? Were they there?”

“No. As far as I know, Ivaki’s grave is in the western rock mountains, and Nia… I’m not sure. Since she was a saint, maybe the Church retrieved her body?”

I was frustrated to death. We had no idea what had happened after our deaths.

That was when it happened.

The door opened, and a familiar-faced woman stepped in. Both Cecil and I turned our gaze toward her at the same time.

“Betia?”

Her eyes looked dazed, as if she were under a spell, and her gaze locked straight onto Ganjiang and Moye—Ryeong’s beloved blades, now in Cecil’s possession.

Step. Step.

Betia walked toward Cecil.

Then, without a word, she reached out and grasped Ganjiang and Moye.

“…What are you doing?”

It was a move that should have made anyone flinch, but Cecil didn’t act rashly—she simply watched the situation for now.

If Betia did anything even slightly suspicious, Cecil was ready to snap her neck without hesitation.

Betia closed her eyes and began muttering something incomprehensible. It resembled a shaman from a tribe reciting some ancient incantation.

I also readied myself by gripping the hilt of the Behemoth at my waist, just in case. It felt a bit too early to kill her—there was still some value in keeping her alive for information.

But I couldn’t just ignore a clear threat.

At last, Betia opened her eyes and spoke.

“The fact that I’m saying this means… you’ve found the weapons of your former comrades.”

“……”

“……”

Hearing those words, both Cecil and I widened our eyes at the same time. I asked,

“When you say our comrades’ weapons, are you referring to these?”

But no answer came back. Her eyes, now filled entirely with whites, made it clear she wasn’t in a state to hold a proper conversation.

‘What is this? Is she just reciting something that was implanted into her?’

“Van Descartes.”

“!”

“There must be many things you’re curious about—like the betrayal that happened in the past, whether Bestia and Saladin are alive, who poisoned the food. If you want to know the truth, gather all of your former comrades’ weapons.”

“Gather their weapons?”

“As you collect each of their weapons, the truths you’ve wanted to know will begin to reveal themselves. Ran Winterbell. Your mother was a member of a minority tribe in the northern region of the Empire. If you dig into her death, you’ll be able to uncover who the traitor within the Winterbell family is.”

“What are you talking about…?”

Hearing such sudden, nonsensical things all at once left my head spinning. Not Van Descartes’ mother—Ran Winterbell’s mother.

My mother.

In my memories, she had always cursed me. She cried every day. She was mad every day.

—I love you, my baby.

A long, long time ago—back when I spent most of the day in her arms.

Just once. I feel like I vaguely remember hearing her say she loved me.

But now, out of nowhere… my mother?

‘She couldn’t overcome her madness and eventually…’

I couldn’t remember.

I was certain she had died.

…but how did she die?

“There is someone who knows all the truths of this world. That person is your true enemy.”