Chapter 599: The Night Before Confession
Holding the beautifully crafted painting in her hand, Eil’s expression was extremely displeased as she clicked her tongue. Even from her perspective, Baemon truly deserved to be considered a master of worldly art and mysterious knowledge, effortlessly rendering the scene in the painting with such exquisite beauty that it was almost lifelike.
It felt as if an inexplicable flame was spreading from her fingertips, threatening to engulf the painting entirely at the point of contact. However, from the corner of her eye, Eil still saw Fisher, who was looking down at these paintings, seemingly touched by what he saw.
“Tsk.”
The flame suddenly stopped, slowly retracting back into her body, sparing the artwork from disaster.
She still remembered how certain she felt when she spoke to Fisher earlier, convincing herself that Baemon must have some special purpose for approaching him, placing that precious “Guardian’s Mark” on him, even erasing her own mark to cover it.
Though she still believed that, looking at the detailed scenes before her, Eil found herself unable to voice her thoughts again.
Meanwhile, Emhart, who was nestled in Fisher’s arms, took one glance at the paintings and seemed to shy away, blurted out without thinking,
“This must be Baemon’s scheme! It’s something she had arranged in advance; you mustn’t be fooled!”
“…”
Fisher gently patted the startled Emhart, his gaze fixed on the paintings around them, many of which Jasmine had not yet taken out from where they lay on the ground. Each painting seemed so meticulously crafted, evidently shaped by the artist’s careful diligence.
He picked one up, glanced at it, and suddenly spoke,
“These are the scenes from when I first met her.”
“… Heh, that doesn’t seem like her at all.”
Eil carelessly tossed the large painting back to its original spot, perhaps intending to reiterate the same viewpoint as Emhart. After all, from her perspective, it was entirely possible that Baemon had designed all of this in advance, making them see this very scene when they arrived here.
Not only could it show Fisher their past experiences, but it could also anger the other women standing beside him—why wouldn’t she take joy in that?
But as she deliberated, Eil kept silent upon realizing a contradiction within her thoughts. Suddenly, she wasn’t quite sure of Baemon’s true intentions and nature anymore.
If Baemon only designed all of this, everything was as Emhart said, then she wouldn’t need to concern herself with these paintings at all; everything was fake anyway.
Yet when Eil saw how delicately Baemon depicted thoughts that seemed not to be her own, chronicling her teasing of Fisher, recounting Fisher’s worries for her, that Millennia-long love felt like a fishbone lodged in Eil’s throat.
If everything Baemon displayed was not a ruse but rather genuine sentiment—if she truly yearned for a lover that only existed in the future over the past ten thousand years—then Eil could not accept that.
It seemed as though she was proving that erasing Eil’s mark and taking it on for herself was justified, that she had more reason to possess Fisher.
Combined, none of that sat well with Eil.
Feeling Eil’s growing displeasure, Fisher hastily changed the subject. He turned to Jasmine and cut to the chase,
“No matter whether Hela did this on purpose for me to see or if it was like this from the beginning, our priority now is to find the Base. Jasmine, can you still sense the specific location of the Base?”
Behind them, Jasmine was still puffing her cheeks, picking up images from the ground, clearly intending to take this “evidence” back to Raphael. She barely paused her actions until Fisher turned, then pouted her lips and said,
“I’ll give it a try. I can feel it’s very close to here.”
“Hmm.”
Earlier, when Fisher discovered Baemon might be deceiving him and felt anger, Jasmine felt a slight glee inside, but now, upon seeing so many sweet memories, her heart sank, and she became displeased with the “evidence” in her hands.
Originally, she had no strong feelings about this unfamiliar “Baemon,” especially since she had just embraced Fisher. However, after experiencing all this, she found herself, like Eil, growing wary and displeased with Baemon, treating her similarly to Elizabeth.
Well, as for Eil, considering she harbored no hostility towards her, Jasmine decided to cooperate with her for now.
As Jasmine began searching for the location of the Base, Eil surprisingly fell silent, merely hanging the slightly crumpled painting back on the wall and waiting at the entrance with her arms crossed for Jasmine’s next actions.
Fisher cast another glance at the paintings on the wall, pondering over Hela’s words left behind, and also noticed the spiral staircase leading to the second floor of the palace beside the paintings.
“…”
Emhart, who had already been quite anxious, Fisher thought for a moment and took him out, asking him to wait there a while, as he intended to go upstairs for a closer look.
Emhart wanted to warn him to be careful, but Fisher had already stepped onto the stairs, heading towards the deeper, darker second floor.
On the second floor, matching the wise image of Baemon passed down from a thousand years ago, there were numerous bookshelves. Fisher stood still, surveying his surroundings for a while before slowly maneuvering through the bookshelves toward the end of the second floor, where the light from the first floor had grown more dim, revealing a dusty writing table that looked untouched for quite some time.
Behind the table was the widely circulated image of the “Demon God” Baemon.
It depicted a shadowy figure with angel-like wings, possessing a pure and flawless appearance, thus being referred to by humanity as the “King of Archangels.”
She wore a crown adorned with gems, riding upon the back of a one-humped camel that appeared to be perpetually on a journey, walking continuously through the desolate desert.
Fisher looked up at this depiction that failed to record her true appearance and suddenly reached out to lift the painting, examining the back—Hela had a habit of leaving the name of the artwork and notes on the back, and this piece was no exception.
He saw the words written on it:
“I”
“It seems I am tirelessly searching for a path to the ‘future,’ waiting for the person of the future to welcome me.”
Fisher then realized that the widely recognized image of “Baemon” was closely related to him.
He certainly remembered that the crown on her head was crafted from the gems he had clumsily placed into it one by one; he also remembered that the mother camel she rode was one he had picked up from the Snake People tribe under Sorobato’s favor.
As he gazed at the painting overhead, Fisher then turned, sat at the writing desk where Baemon once sat, quietly observing the dim library before him, sitting in silence, unsure of his thoughts.
Eventually, as his face and body began to twitch, as if some dark fluid were moving within him, he heard a childish voice,
“Fisher, you seem to be deep in thought?”
“Hmm, Cupid.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“Thinking about the true owner of your name.”
“… So Cupid does have an owner?”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay, can I still use it?”
Fisher remained noncommittal, simply leaning back against her chair, and suddenly asked this ball of black mud,
“I suddenly feel like I can’t see one person clearly anymore. I don’t know what is true or false about her. I could interpret all my previous doubts about her reasons for getting close to me through ‘trust,’ but now I can’t tell if I can place that same trust in her again.”
“Do you understand her a bit more now?”
Fisher leaned back in his chair and suddenly remembered the words behind the large painting he had seen earlier. She said,
“In the night they shared, he held the woman he loved most, and who loved him in return.”
Fisher rubbed his temples, and before Jasmine found the Base, under the watchful shadow of Baemon behind him, he murmured softly,
“… I really don’t know.”
“… ”
The black mud remained silent, just quietly accompanying him, as it had previously stated it would “love him.”
On the first floor, with Fisher heading upstairs alone, Jasmine began searching for the specific location of the Base. Eil, however, remained with her arms crossed at the wide-open doors of Baemon’s palace, her expression no longer lazy, but lost in her own thoughts.
“What’s wrong? Why the sudden sour face?”
It was then that Cidi’s voice suddenly echoed behind her, interrupting Eil’s train of thought. She turned around displeased, only to see Cidi, with his fingers playfully tangled in his long red hair, smiling at her.
“What do you want?”
Cidi looked her up and down with a hint of schadenfreude, saying, “. I can tell that your ‘sleep therapy’ is quite effective; you haven’t even exploded because Baemon has taken away your Guardian Mark— is it because your true form hasn’t been unsealed yet?”
“Spit it out if you have something to say.”
Eil yawned, her tail flicking behind her as she said this.
Cidi was undeterred by her words; they had known each other for quite some time, so he wouldn’t let frivolous banter disrupt their rapport.
“Your Barbatos is still up there working hard for you, yet you’re just sitting here doing nothing? You don’t seem like the type.”
“Since I was with Barbatos until being sealed by that pseudo-god, we’ve rarely seen each other; mainly because you’re usually asleep all day. It’s natural for me to change, right? I have no dissatisfaction with my current situation. Besides, the friend related to Fisher entrusted me, and he’s considered my junior. Helping either side puts me in a tough spot, so I’d rather not do anything at all.”
“That friend… who exactly are you referring to?”
A smile spread wider across Cidi’s face as he raised a finger, grinning,
“Is it because she’s related to Fisher that you’re suddenly curious?”
“None of your business.”
Eil shot Cidi a glare, and he didn’t contradict her. Instead, he honestly admitted,
“The one who set me up with Barbatos, but Barbatos doesn’t know her. My relaxed state now is largely thanks to her. Ah, I have to say, it feels quite liberating to be free from that ‘nature.’”
“Liberating, huh?”
Eil squinted her eyes. Before she could fully digest the implications of Cidi’s words, he tapped his chin and continued,
“My matters are secondary; the key point is you, Eil.”
“Me?” Eil glanced at him, yawning again, “What’s wrong with me?”
“What’s wrong? Weren’t you quite displeased with Baemon when you came in? Fisher bears Baemon’s Guardian Mark, not yours.”
“What, do you want me to take my ‘old path’?”
“This isn’t a matter of old or new paths, Eil.”
Cidi leaned against the wall, staring outside at the waves concealed by the infinity symbol, his gaze gradually growing vacant, then he continued,
“Barbatos and Ag might have been exploited by Baemon’s schemes. I believe you can see that too. You and Fisher are also working hard to dismantle this ruse. But have you ever thought about what comes after this?”
“…”
Eil remained silent, but Cidi persisted,
“Barbatos and Ag are still sealed. The pseudo-god’s seal is both a curse and a blessing for us. You understand, when driven by our nature, we wander freely only for ourselves, causing pain to others, and you’re a part of that. So, what about after this?
“Will you return to your sealed existence again after completing this matter as before? Or do you want Fisher to use the Base to release you? I think that even if they set you free, you wouldn’t want to accept it, right? Otherwise, why would you sleep in your lair for these millennia?”
Eil’s expression became completely stoic, yet she didn’t refute Cidi’s words. Instead, she crossed her arms and asked,
“What do you want to say?”
“I’m saying that you may have already overcome your nature deep down; you… have surrendered to Baemon.”
Cidi smiled, lowering his head to obscure his face in shadow, leaving behind a swirling pink mist that made him resemble two pink stars spinning in the darkness, evoking a dreadful sense.
“You can’t leave this place without your sealed true form. You don’t want to leave, either. You’re afraid of walking the same ‘old path’ as before, so you’ve turned to the opposite extreme. I know what you’re thinking—Baemon has freedom outside and such a deep connection to Fisher, so compared to you, she indeed seems more suitable to be his Guardian. Thus, you’ve silently accepted it—accepted the fact that she erased your mark.
Eil remained speechless, merely gazing at the flames outside the palace, clearly acknowledging Cidi’s words. The change in her demeanor remained unchanged until he finished speaking.
At that moment, Cidi turned his head to look at her, pausing for a moment before he couldn’t help but ask,
“Is this truly what you want, Eil?”
“…” Eil stared at the flames outside, shaking her head and saying, “Just one fleeting romance—one night of dew. This degree of reluctance, I can still let go of.”
“You think that not taking the old path means heading towards the opposite extreme?”
Eil’s words were interrupted by Cidi, who was smirking beside her. She slightly froze, turning her head to see Cidi raising a finger and suddenly winking, saying,
“I often have demands of that sort with Barbatos. His desire to impress and earn my satisfaction is hardly gone. I don’t meet outsiders anymore, and Barbatos no longer cares for his worldly reputation. However, that doesn’t mean we’ve completely abandoned who we were before. The more you pretend to be generous, the more you risk the same old path.
“Simply put, you lack experience in this area and don’t realize that your current choices are utterly counterproductive. Would it be so wrong to try being honest with him before everything unfolds? Or do you wish to continue defying your true nature and relinquishing everything to Baemon?”
Eil’s expression showed some hesitation as if she were struggling internally. Until Cidi stepped away from the wall he had been leaning on and walked deeper into Baemon’s palace, finally waving his hand and mumbling,
“Don’t forget, what’s the next line after defeating the unbeatable?”
“The victor … may have no victor.”
Eil murmured that, and her eyes flickered with a terrifying brightness like fire serpents, while her tail quivered slightly behind her, mirroring her hesitation with an air of ambiguity.
In this quiet contemplation, it felt as though all sounds around her had been enveloped by the tranquility within her mind, becoming silent.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Finally, long after, the sound of strong heartbeats exploded from the depths of her consciousness.
The previously faint smell of nitre in her nostrils became thick and sticky, akin to the scent of rust, flooding into her seven apertures, overpowering everything around her.
Along with that heartbeat, echoes of her past surfaced, seemingly like auditory hallucinations.
She heard the thunderous crack of blades breaking, the roar of war steeds, and the chilling wails of countless races.
She felt their fear, the intoxicating sensation of having defeated them.
In that era, Eil saw nothing but darkness, merely hearing their pleas and cries amid the smells of nitre and blood.
They knelt before the towering pillar of fire, praising the name of this Demon God.
Until that fear and trepidation were passed down through their bloodline, ultimately washed away by time and reduced to a mere two lines of text,
“Eil”
“Duke, the First Pillar behind the Competitive Gate”
“Greedy and impetuous, fond of violence, rejoice in war, propping for destruction.”
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[The End of This Chapter]
