So vulgar… truly shameful…
Clicking my tongue in disgust, I reached into the storage chamber and picked up one of the items.
It was something made of thin fabric and multiple leather cords—small and strange, the kind of thing you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be worn, used for binding spiritual beasts, or perhaps some obscure net for sect labor tasks. I couldn’t tell its purpose at all.
I hooked one of the cords around my finger and looked at Eric.
“What… is this even
for
?”
“Don’t ask. Just put it back.”
Eric’s tone was firm and absolute.
Even with half his face turned away, I could clearly see his ears glowing scarlet red.
At this rate, if I teased him just a little more, he’d probably go kneel in a corner and start reciting incantations like a repentant disciple begging forgiveness from his sect elder.
Thankfully, that meant his mouth, which had previously been going on and on about Helena, was now firmly shut.
I found it strange—maybe even a little fascinating—that I was already adapting to Eric's presence so naturally.
When I twirled the net-or-robe-or-blindfold-looking thing around my finger with a curious expression, Eric bolted toward the sofa like it was a spiritual weapon rather than a… whatever it was.
“Haah…”
He let out a sigh and muttered.
“Should we just leave?”
“Huh? We
can
leave?”
Then what were we even doing up until now?
I turned back to put the net-like thing onto the shelf again. But perhaps because of the slippery material, it slid off and fell to the floor.
As I bent down to pick it up, something about the leather straps dangling from the net triggered a strange, unpleasant memory.
“Damn woman…”
Something old and buried…
That’s when Eric spoke.
“We’ll have to try. I checked earlier—looks like the door is made from a mithril alloy. We’ll need a weapon, at the very least. Though calling this a weapon might be stretching it a bit…”
As he spoke, Eric walked over to the cabinet and picked up one of the ‘tools.’
“…Maybe we can make it work.”
Make
what
work?
I looked up—
And saw Eric holding a whip, its end adorned with trailing leather tassels.
Damn it.
I backed up instinctively, coughing once to compose myself.
“…W-What exactly are you going to do with
that
?”
My throat had gone completely dry. I swallowed, hard.
“That doesn’t look like a weapon. It’s more like… a
tool
.”
“Right. No idea why the princess has something like this…”
Hearing that, I instinctively recoiled.
Eric muttered under his breath.
“Let’s give it a try.”
Whish—!
CRACK!
With one fluid motion, Eric flicked his wrist—
The whip lashed out with an explosive
snap
, slashing clean across the side table near the bed.
The surface splintered instantly, and shards of lacquered wood flew through the air, some even ricocheting toward him.
The power behind it was… immense.
…What?
No, seriously—how did that even
happen
? Strength was one thing, but this?
Still… powerful is good. Really good…
I swallowed again.
“…Maybe this could work after all. Even if it feels wrong to use something this vulgar as a vessel for spiritual force…”
“…Use it for
what
, exactly?”
I kept my eyes fixed on the table as I asked, only half-hearing his answer at this point.
Eric paused mid-sentence and turned to look at me, frowning.
"Why have you been scratching your neck like that for a while now?"
I curled into myself, my voice barely audible.
"Because… it’s hard to breathe…"
It was suffocating.
This sealed, dark space. And just now, the ominous crack of a whip echoing in the silence.
I could hardly breathe.
Like I was going to—
…die.
Just then, Eric’s large hand reached toward me.
"Don’t come any closer!"
I screamed.
But that was all I could manage. After shouting, I collapsed onto the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
Instead of hearing Eric’s voice, another sound flooded my ears.
The sound of waves—waves crashing against the cliffside beneath the merchant sect building with the blue-bearded insignia.
Crash!
Crash!
Crash!
Each time the white waves shattered against the jagged rocks, I wondered—
What would happen if I just let myself be swept away?
Our trading stronghold had always been surrounded by cliffs and a roaring ocean.
“You think you can live without me?”
The sect leader’s words echoed through the roar.
He wasn’t wrong.
Even if the sect master let me go, the world outside was a vast ocean filled with dangers even worse than the waves.
Crash!
Crash!
Crash!
So I endured. Over and over again.
The pain that surged with every lash of that horrible sound.
That feeling of plummeting into the sea's abyss.
You might think I was being foolish… and maybe I was.
But I don’t care if you call me a coward.
Because I
was
one.
Whenever that sensation struck me—like I wanted to disappear from this world—I could only fold into myself, smaller and smaller, like I was trying to disappear completely.
"…Imelin! Imelin… Orléans!"
Eric’s voice reached me, faint—like it was coming from another realm entirely.
Why?
He was right there in front of me… and yet it felt so far away.
But I had no room to care about things like that.
Of course I didn’t.
Because I was too busy trying to remember
how to breathe
.
“Please! Please save me! It wasn’t me, I swear—!”
Philip’s voice.
“Let’s run away, Imelin!”
Helena’s voice.
“What… What am I supposed to do?”
A voice I couldn’t place. I didn’t even know whose it was.
Again.
Damn it.
The past was clawing at me again—trying to swallow me whole.
Why was it always me?
Why was I the only one still like this?
Everyone else… no matter what they went through, they moved on. But me?
Why did I still feel trapped in that moment, like time had never moved?
I’m a coward.
And even though I act like I’ve accepted it, like I can say it aloud with no shame…
The truth is—I’m
tired
of living like a coward.
Ah… I have to breathe…
I forgot again.
Breathing… is such a hassle. Truly.
It was a moment of total disorientation—like my soul was slipping out of my body.
“Emelline!”
Suddenly, the muffled ringing in my ears cracked wide open as someone’s voice struck my eardrums with piercing clarity.
I opened my eyes.
And immediately met Eric’s crimson gaze. In his pupils, I saw the reflection of my own pale, ashen face.
That’s when I realized.
The reason his voice had sounded so distant earlier… was because I had been covering my own ears.
Eric gently pried my hands away from the sides of my head, his expression tense and filled with dread.
“...Emelline!”
“...Ugh…”
I thought I needed to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.
I needed to breathe, but I couldn’t. I just sat there gasping—choking—my gaze locked on the hand Eric had grabbed.
Warm... it’s warm…
Only the warmth from Eric’s hand kept me tethered to the present. He was gripping me tightly, his expression laced with panic.
“Damn it…! Damn it all!”
I heard him curse.
Wow. Young Lord Eric actually cursed.
They say nowadays you can record human voices with spirit tools. I really wanted to record that moment—his vulgar words.
I was going to tease him about it later…
That ridiculous thought brought me back to reality, if only slightly.
I kept staring at his hand.
Because of that warmth, I hadn’t been pulled back into the past.
Because of that warmth, the voices of yesterday weren’t devouring the voices of today.
Because of him, the shadows of the past hadn’t swallowed the light of the present.
“I... I killed my father!”
“No, Emelline. He’s not dead! Look—you're still breathing! We have to go! We have to run!”
But that comfort, that fragile warmth, lasted only a moment.
My face twisted hideously.
Eric asked, “Should I bring you some water?”
I shook my head, eyes glistening with tears.
Thwack!
Thwack!
Thwack!
Still, I couldn’t breathe properly.
As my choking grew more intense, Eric—visibly shaken—released my hand. Then he reached toward the whip again.
I jolted in alarm and clutched his arm, panic-stricken.
“…Hhk…”
As I clung to his arm, Eric raised his voice slightly, as if trying to anchor me.
“I’ll open the door. You stay here, alright? Understand? Hm?”
Even his gentle, grounding voice couldn’t make me nod.
Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Don’t… go.
His crimson eyes trembled.
“You don’t want me to go? Then what should I… what do I do? Tell me. Just tell me what to do.”
Had I said something?
I thought I hadn’t spoken at all… How did he know?
Stunned, I looked up at him.
The only person in front of me.
The only one who could hold me down—keep me grounded in this world.
Without realizing it, tears spilled down my cheeks as I spoke.
“Ah… hu—hold me…”
“…?”
“…h-hold…”
“What… what are you asking me to do?”
“…I said… hold me…”
My vision blurred.
The moment I heard those words leave my own mouth, a wave of crushing regret washed over me.
What had I just done…? Who had I just said that to? I’d rather suffocate and die than let those words leave my lips—what madness possessed me?!
And then—
Something firm wrapped around my shoulders, something warm covered my face.
At the same time, a large hand gently swept down my back—as if I might shatter at the slightest touch.
That hand carried hesitation, trembling, and silent uncertainty.
Then I heard Eric’s voice close to my ear.
“It’s okay.”
…Okay? What is?
I shook my head.
He actually embraced me just because I asked? This fool… this weirdo…
And what was okay, exactly?
Yet, I could feel it—
The trembling in my body was slowly easing.
My breath, once strangled and shallow, began flowing naturally again.
And then, I felt it—
My body being lifted into the air.
I shut my eyes. Whether they were open or not didn’t matter anymore. The world was just a blur.
But in closing them, my whole body seemed to relax.
Still…
Still, I was
not
okay.
The very fact that I wasn’t okay—
that
was what hurt the most.
The others kept going. Everyone else seemed fine. But I… I remained broken.
It felt like I was born defective, like something deep inside me had never worked properly.
Like I was some cultivation misfire—
a flawed vessel, unable to cleanse a single inner demon of memory.
Perhaps from the very beginning, I was meant to be unstable.
And then—
KA-BOOM!
A thunderous crash, like the heavens themselves had cracked open, rang in my ears.
“Y-Young Lord…!”
“Did… did you just break through a gate forged of mithril alloy?!”
“Y-Your hand…!”
Amidst the commotion, fresh air rushed into my lungs. Cool, pure spiritual energy poured in like a cleansing breeze.
But at the same time, my consciousness began to swirl.
I knew—I wouldn’t stay awake for much longer.
And just before I slipped into darkness, I heard the last voice of the waking world:
“Summon a physician. Tell Her Highness I’ll gladly accept confinement for destroying a royal gate, but I offer my deepest apologies.”
Ah… this absurdly upright Young Lord…
Even now, he’s apologizing…
That was my final thought.
After that—
I passed out.
Chapter 40