Ch. 280

True to his lack of empathy, Rovenin’s response was flat.

“Yes. I must go.”

“Can’t you… not go?”

Ash wasn’t worried about Rovenin’s safety. He was worried about what would happen to the slave traders—and to Zekarda.

But Rovenin didn’t seem like he had any intention of changing his mind.

“It’s also a chance to unwind, and there’s no reason for me not to join.”

“You’re going to… kill them all again, aren’t you.”

“Of course. I feel awful if I miss even one.”

Standing under a huge tree with long, drooping leaves, Rovenin sometimes didn’t feel human.

Even I could tell.

Rovenin was, unusually, enjoying himself right now.

“…You never change.”

Ash’s voice sounded faintly strained, like someone had a hand around his throat.

Rovenin and I considered each other enemies, but we were both on Ash’s side, and that was the only reason this precarious truce held.

Still, on this matter, I couldn’t just shove Ash aside and pretend it didn’t matter.

“They’re corrupt people anyway. Why do you worry about their deaths?”

“…Even if they’re evil, aren’t they people who have nothing to do with you? But you enjoy killing them every chance you get, so how can I not care?”

“Because they are irrelevant.”

“Your Highness!”

“It is you, Your Highness, who I do not understand. Why do you grieve for those who have nothing to do with you? That is even more incomprehensible.”

I never thought I’d agree with him, but on this one thing, I was closer to Rovenin than Ash.

‘I don’t enjoy slaughter as much as that guy does. I don’t go out of my way to hunt them down, after all. Still… Ash probably sees it as the same thing.’

I understood how Ash felt, stuck between people like me and Rovenin, who killed so easily, but there was nothing I could do.

Neither Rovenin nor I were the kind of people who would change because someone asked us to.

“Now, not content with bandits, you’re planning to wipe out slave traders.”

“Not a bad plan.”

“…I’m saying you have to stop! Once you’ve killed all the slave traders, who will you kill next? Pickpockets? And then? Liars too? How long do you think you can keep killing people on the pretext of sin!”

“The world is wide, and there are many people to kill. You worry needlessly.”

It was like watching someone talk to a wall.

Ash swallowed down his frustration again and again, while Rovenin had already turned away and started toward the well.

That made it obvious this wasn’t their first time having this conversation.

Since I was the one who’d sparked the argument, I tried to comfort Ash.

“Ash?”

“Haa… Geenie.”

“It’s easier to give up on a guy like that.”

Was it my imagination, or did Ash’s sigh deepen at my sincere attempt?

“You too.”

“Me?”

“Do you really have to wipe out the slave traders like that? It’s already the second time I know of.”

“Oh, come on. Why is the fire spreading to me?”

“Please don’t brush it off. I’m serious. You—or people like the Young Master—more than people like me… I think you need to understand the weight of the power you have.”

Every word was right.

It was what Ash always said. Rai had said it too.

Maybe my personality was crooked, but it never sank in.

“Don’t try to persuade me. I’m not an idealist like you. No matter what you say, I won’t change my mind. Those guys deserve to die. Any way.”

Ash and I were different.

The way we thought, the way we acted, the way we looked at the world, what we wanted—everything went in different directions.

Sometimes that was good.

But sometimes it made me feel like we wouldn’t stay together forever.

“Ash? No one will mourn their deaths. Except you.”

“You’re mistaken. Geenie, I’m not mourning their deaths.”

“You always do this. You say we shouldn’t kill them. That we should listen to them. That we have to follow the law. That we don’t have the right to punish them. Like those pieces of trash will change if we just keep them alive.”

“Choosing to keep them alive—even if we cut off their limbs and leave only their bodies—is harder than killing them. Killing is too easy, and that’s why it isn’t a solution.”

Ash walked slowly toward me and stopped right in front of me.

He stayed silent for a long time.

It was late morning, and the edge of the forest was unbelievably peaceful, full of birdsong.

Even though we were arguing.

“…I don’t want to fight with you. Let’s stop talking about this.”

“We’re not fighting.”

“There’s no answer to problems like this anyway! So let’s just do what we want!”

“Geenie, I want to understand you. And even if you can’t understand me, I hope you’ll remember my words someday and think about them again.”

Sometimes Ash sounded like he was pleading.

Even though I wanted to run away like Rovenin, I couldn’t.

There was an inexplicable pain in Ash’s eyes when he looked at me.

“The reason I… try to avoid killing people as much as possible is because death is never reversible. I know you might see me as a coward. As someone weak who trembles at the thought of killing.”

When it came to strength—mental or physical—Ash was the opposite of weak.

That made it even harder to understand.

It wasn’t like he’d never killed before, so what was he so afraid of?

I’d learned something by accident once, when I read Ash’s mind with the Tears of Truth.

Ash remembered the faces of everyone he’d killed.

Even the ones who had tried to kill him first.

“If it’s just us, I’ll admit it. I’m afraid of death.”

I felt like I was getting weaker around Ash as the days passed.

He was just frowning, but I kept worrying he might cry.

“Geenie… death has never given me an answer. Not with my mother’s death, nor the death of my two-year-old half-sibling… nor my father’s twelfth concubine, who was the first person to treat me kindly.”

“…Ash.”

At that moment, Ash shouldn’t have taken my hand.

Even if I didn’t try to read him, if his desire for me to understand was strong enough, his thoughts would seep in on their own—rummaging through my head, digging deeper.

I flinched on instinct, wanting to pull away the hand with the ring.

Nothing shook something stubborn inside me like Ash’s desperation.

Emotions poured in so heavy I could barely endure them, and sometimes they were so vivid I couldn’t tell if they were mine or his.

What tormented me now was Ash’s memories.

He was always alone in the face of death.

Death had never left anything good behind.

What remained was always confusion, pain, and helpless self-reproach.

If death had been an answer, he would’ve given in to it long ago.

Ash fought to survive.

He struggled to find meaning in life, somehow.

Every time his mother left him and countless people around him died, he learned it again—painfully.

Nothing was over.

Nothing was resolved.

Even when countless hands reached for his throat, what he felt wasn’t fear.

It was the desperate certainty that they were wrong.

Nothing changes.

Nothing gets better.

It isn’t justice.

It isn’t even close to the best.

“Death… doesn’t solve anything. It’s never the end. If it were, I would have….”

If dying could make things better, he would’ve done it long ago.

But he knew it wouldn’t.

That was the only thing that kept him moving.

He remembered his mother whispering that there was nothing wrong with life.

He kept walking because stopping meant dying.

What sustained Ash was life—the people left behind, and the people he had to protect.

It was the opposite of me.

I was satisfied as long as I took care of myself.

I only valued myself.

Maybe because I didn’t want to lose anyone again, I clung to myself and looked only at myself.

“Geenie, please. Don’t try to solve everything with death.”

The way his voice trembled, like he was about to cry, was unfair.

“Because it’s easy for you, please make it more difficult.”

That was probably where we differed.

Ash was the one left behind.

I was the one who had to leave.

After death drew its line, I had to change.

I knew I couldn’t go back to who I was before, so I tried to look ahead.

No—I couldn’t do anything else.

If I didn’t want to keep looking back and crying, I had to change.

I couldn’t survive alone if I didn’t.

The reason I suddenly wanted to cry now was simple.

Ash’s emotions were rushing into me, so heavy they were suffocating.

That had to be it.

I pulled my hand free and swallowed.

“…Ash, the death you know and the death I know are different. It might not be the end….”

I couldn’t finish.

It was like something was stealing my voice against my will.

Ash looked down at me—at my blank, blinking face—like I was something precious, and he spoke like he was praying.

“I’m not going to say something absurd like ‘don’t kill anyone.’ I just hope there are rules to what you do. I hope you don’t kill people just because you feel like it.”

“…….”

“Not for them… but for you.”

“…….”

“Geenie, you can’t let go of the reins completely.”

‘Damn it. No voice is coming out.’

‘Hey, you damn god!’

I was furious, but the moment I got angry—when my hands trembled—the restrictions tightened even more.

And I had no choice but to realize it.

These divine sanctions were absolute—so absolute that even the Golden Dragon Adelaide couldn’t see through them.

‘Why did you put these sanctions on me? You could’ve just erased my memories in the first place!’

I screamed in my head, but my lips barely moved.

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