Chapter 43: That Which Cannot Be Inherited (9)

That night, Fran gazed at the moon hanging in the sky.

The darker the surroundings, the brighter the moon seemed to shine.

She had always liked looking at it, finding comfort in its glow.

Sometimes, things of value could only be found in the darkness.

“To return to the greatness of the dragons’ true form” — this was the mantra carried in the hearts of all Dragonkin.

It was more than a life’s guiding principle; it was a goal ingrained into their very beings.

Yet, the destination seemed unattainable, forever out of reach.

As the endless journey continued, weariness set in, and it became natural to question the path they were on.

If the alternative route promised the same destination, then it wasn’t a difficult choice to make.

Three hundred years ago, many Dragonkin perished in the war against the Demon Lord.

Even now, countless kin die or are gravely injured while managing dungeons corrupted by miasma or handling cursed magic stones.

It was no surprise that many found Fran’s ideology appealing.

“Just a little longer. Once your mana circuits are fully transformed for dark magic, you’ll finally be able to reclaim your dragon form.”

“I’ve never once been a dragon in my life, though.”

This was the essence of dark magic. Cain spoke, feeling the unsettling sensations in his blood begin to fade.

The true form of the Dragonkin was the dragon.

Their human form was merely an escape, a means to evade their curse.

So much time had passed. The ancestors who had once remembered their dragon forms were long dead.

Though the Dragonkin yearned for their true selves, they could barely recall what those forms even looked like.

“Ku-huhut. Yes, exactly. To return to the greatness of our dragon forms… How many detours have we taken to achieve that goal? What a ridiculous journey it has been.”

Fran smiled, her laughter ceasing as she ran her hands over Cain’s body to check his condition.

Curses and blessings, in essence, were not different.

The distinction lay only in the materials used: divine energy or miasma.

To a creation of the gods, the curse carried by the dragon’s blood could just as easily be seen as a blessing.

That was where dark magic came in. If the curse within the dragon’s blood could be reinterpreted as a blessing, then suppressing it with dark magic made perfect sense.

Her theory had proven correct.

Now, the Dragonkin—no, the dragons—needed no more sacrifices.

They were the gods’ greatest masterpieces, born to dominate.

With this realization, Fran could hardly contain her joy as their goal came into sight.

“…Are you certain this is okay?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Even if he’s locked in a subspace, he’s still the Hero. Wouldn’t it be safer to kill him now?”

“Hmm, I’d love to kill him too, but I’ve got a prior arrangement.”

“A prior arrangement?”

“Yes, with a stunningly beautiful sister. And don’t you think it’s exciting to see how low the Hero can sink?”

Neither the Saint nor the Hero could use complex magic.

Subspace magic, a high-level spell, was out of their reach.

There was no way for them to escape the confines of the space.

Moreover, under the influence of the potion, the Hero’s emotions were becoming increasingly unstable, and his Enchanted Eyes were consuming him.

Of course, Sera might attempt to burn her own body to free the Hero, but this wasn’t a hastily constructed spell.

Should she try, the Hero’s sanity wouldn’t survive the ordeal.

Thinking about it brought a twisted smile to Fran’s lips.

If the Hero were defiled, Diana would surely be pleased.

For the first time, Fran felt an emotion she believed to be love.

Tap, tap.

In the lightless space, I tossed water bottles from the basket aimlessly, trying to pass the time.

No, it wasn’t entirely dark. The infuriatingly clear image of Kim Su-hyun, that damn Hero, was all too visible.

“You’re making me dizzy. Can you just sit still?”

“But…”

“But what? Do you think wandering around will make food or rice suddenly appear?”

“There must be a way out. Just a little longer…”

He dismissed my sarcasm without hesitation and continued wandering through the endless space.

Watching him, I could only let out a bitter laugh.

This was a subspace created by a magician’s power.

Its purpose and extent were unknown even to me.

All I knew was that countless objects could be stored here, and our lives were effectively in Fran’s hands.

“Pathetic idiot…”

Late that morning, I woke to find myself completely alone.

Natalia was nowhere to be seen, nor were the many courtiers who had been wandering the palace.

All that remained were the gleaming windows bathed in sunlight and ornate decorations with no apparent owner.

Had everything that happened last night been a dream? I wondered, but the vivid memories and the news that the wedding had already started confirmed it had all been real.

So I prepared as much holy water as I could.

If the Hero was planning something, the wedding day—when everyone was gathered—would be the perfect opportunity.

It made sense that they isolated me. Sacred flames were the greatest threat to miasma.

I would have been an obstacle to their plans.

Still, the scene I witnessed exceeded my worst expectations.

The Hero’s Enchanted Eyes had spiraled out of control, and a blue dragon with exposed claws stood before me.

Truly, how pitiful could he be to be backstabbed by his own ally?

“I should’ve known. Betrayal runs in their blood,” I muttered bitterly. The words of wise men who cautioned against trust had been proven right again.

“Why did I ever think swallowing that cursed stone was a good idea…”

It wasn’t just the Hero who was pathetic.

The magic stone I swallowed back at the fortress had been a desperate attempt to thwart the Hero’s plans.

Yet, I’d momentarily forgotten that it was infused with miasma.

Holy power might encompass all, but sacred flames were different.

They existed to burn away all evil. Only the inquisitors of the Holy Kingdom, unflinching in their own sacrifices, dared to wield such one-sided power.

Even the slightest trace of miasma would be deemed corruption.

“Hey! Didn’t I tell you to stop moving? Just sit down already!”

There was one thing I agreed with the Hero on: there had to be a way out of this space.

I wasn’t about to die like a dog in this place. I even had a vague idea of what that method might be.

But first, I had to align myself with the Hero. Despite his staggering steps, I had to trust that even he could see reason after being betrayed so blatantly.

“Do you remember what we talked about at the inn?”

Before our relationship took a darker turn, the Hero and I had played a simple game during a morning stroll.

The rule was simple: answer honestly. Neither of us ever truly did, though.

The Hero sat down quietly, seemingly lost in thought about the past. This time, we’d stick to the rules.

“No lying.”

“Fine. I’ll be honest. I hate you. I don’t know if you’re really trying to defeat the Demon Lord or just plotting behind my back. I have no reason to trust you.”

“Hah… But that’s…”

As soon as my words ended, the Hero raised his voice.

Yet, he couldn’t continue with any justification.

Right, what else could he possibly say in this situation?

A brief silence filled the space.

Feeling cramped from sitting on my knees, I stretched out my legs.

The Hero averted his gaze, but I had no intention of playing coy anymore.

“…I was scared.”

In a quiet voice, the Hero finally responded. His tone was timid and dark, unlike anything I’d ever heard from him before.

When was the last time I’d seen the Hero cry? Perhaps it was the first time.

“After being summoned to this world, I met so many people. I made friends, formed connections, and had fun… but I was always alone. That’s why I did it, why I went behind your back.”

“But still, doing something like that?”

“I need to defeat the Demon Lord to return to my original world. You must have a condition like that too, right? Maybe you miss your home as much as I do.”

“When we talked, I couldn’t help but let details about the original world slip out. But no one here could possibly understand. Each time, it hit me—I’m completely alone in this world. No matter how bright I tried to seem, being alone is cold, hungry, and always thirsty. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. You were the first light I found… I need you.”

“Hey, hey… don’t cry.”

The Hero lowered his head, large teardrops falling to the ground.

It was as if his ability to regulate his emotions had completely short-circuited.

I hadn’t realized how homesick he was.

Back in the real world, I had chosen solitude.

Relationships with people were inconvenient, and no matter how much effort I put into building ties, they always unraveled quickly.

Tying those knots was exhausting, so I confined myself to a tiny, one-room apartment.

If you don’t want to get hurt, sever all ties with others.

Stay in the darkness, where you’ll find things of value that can only exist there.

But the Hero? Unlike me, who had lived a bottom-tier life, he had met countless people and built meaningful relationships.

His life had been one I couldn’t even begin to imagine.

So when he fell into a world where he knew no one, how did he feel? That was something beyond my comprehension.

This world revolved around the protagonist.

I envied him for it, even resented him.

But that was my perspective, not his.

Perhaps this vast world felt no different from a cramped one-room apartment to him.

To clear this game, to escape that tiny room, he likely wanted to progress the story to a happy ending.

Tears streamed from his pale face, his expression one of complete defeat.

Before I realized it, my hand had risen to rest on his head.

“I told you, didn’t I? I come from the same world as you.”

Would saying this change anything? Even if the reason behind everything he had done was his longing to return to his original world, could I convince him? Perhaps staying silent would’ve been better.

But I had to speak. Right now, the Hero was vulnerable and needed a friend.

“Hey, what do you think the second Hero did after defeating the Demon Lord? I have a feeling they returned to the original world with the Saint. My quest says that defeating the Demon Lord will let me go back.”

The Hero stayed silent, as though my words didn’t fully register.

“If there’s a chance, why not take it? You can become the second Hero and join me in defeating the Demon Lord. If we keep sabotaging each other, neither of us will achieve anything.”

“You… you won’t leave me?”

“I’d love to run far away, but I know you’d chase me to the ends of the earth. So let’s leave the past behind and make one promise.”

“A promise?”

“Yeah. No more sneaky plans behind my back. I’ll help you become the second Hero, and together we’ll defeat the Demon Lord. Not your happy ending alone, but a happy ending for both of us. Deal?”

Given the way things were unfolding, it seemed there were no other options.

I decided to bury my doubts deep inside.

The Hero likely knew this world was a game and probably understood the story about the second Hero too.

I needed the second Hero, and he needed a corrupted Saint.

If we kept getting in each other’s way, we’d both end up doomed.

So he had to take on the role of the second Hero. I was certain my message got through.

There was nothing for me to lose. Whether he was the first Hero or the second, all I needed was for him to defeat the Demon Lord.

I had no reason to say anything against my interests.

The unstable Hero didn’t seem to notice any inconsistencies in my words.

“Alright, man up, stop crying, and get up.”

If the Hero longed for home, I wouldn’t act as a Saint but as his friend.

With that in mind, I pulled out the holy water.

It was our only way out of this place.

My body wouldn’t come out unscathed, but if I thought of it as the price for my ticket out, it didn’t seem like such a bad deal.

All I carried in me was a trace of miasma from the magic stone.

Surely, that wouldn’t be enough to kill me.

“They say in the Joseon era, they used fire to catch evildoers. Wisdom from our ancestors never lies.”

“S-Sera? What are you trying to do?”

From earlier, I had noticed small specks occasionally appearing in this space.

I didn’t know what was happening outside, but that damned brat, Fran, needed to be taught a lesson about dark magic.

“Eat whatever you like, and you’ll get a stomachache!”

If you keep adding sugar to water, there comes a point when no more will dissolve.

The same applies to holy water.

The water bottles filled with divine power were now igniting miasma as they left my hands.

…Judging by the Hero’s pained expression and the burning in my body, I might’ve overdone it.