Chapter 43
As soon as the meal finished, Allen fell fast asleep.
“She’s mine, I won’t give her to anyone….”
Even muttering in his sleep, he was clearly out cold.
What kind of dream was he having?
I glanced at him once, then turned my head. Dan was staring at the grave a short distance away.
Huh.
How could I get Dan to open his mouth?
I thought about it, chin in hand, but no good answer came to me. It was highly unlikely Dan would speak up on his own, and I hated being stuck on an unsolved problem.
Still, I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing.
If I left things be, nothing would change even after years passed. Better to at least try something, so I’d have fewer regrets.
“Dan.”
“Miss…?”
Normally he’d notice even the smallest sound, but this time his reaction was a beat late — which only showed how important this grave was to him.
“You’ve just been staring at this place,” I said, careful not to call it a grave outright.
There was a reason I said “this place” instead of “grave.” I, having played Hero Maker, obviously knew it was a grave — but someone who didn’t know anything might just see a mound of earth.
“Me…? Was I…?” Dan answered in a drained voice. “So… why did you come to me, miss… without resting…?”
He seemed to be referring to Allen. Allen slept so deeply that no one could have carried him off without waking him.
“You should sleep more during the day… especially someone like you,” he muttered to himself, nodding.
“It’s too late in the day to nap,” I said.
“Is it…? Already…?” Dan slowly lifted his head to the sky.
“The sunset…”
“Yes.”
“It’s been a while since I saw one…”
“Is that so?”
“In the old days… I used to watch it with that child… often.”
“With your sister?” I asked.
His expression hardened when I spoke.
“How did you… know that?” Dan asked.
“I heard it from the inn staff,” I said.
“Maybe… that could be it.” Dan turned his gaze away with the usual listless expression. It didn’t look like he was hiding anything or intending to keep secrets.
If he wasn’t, then he simply couldn’t.
Dan’s situation wasn’t much different from Evan’s. If there was a difference, it was the length of time he’d endured it.
A demon’s curse.
Not all of Solomon’s seventy-two demons occupy the same rank; strength and abilities vary by hierarchy. But there’s one trait that can appear, regardless of rank: a curse — and Dan’s curse was…
Belphegor’s.
As the demon of sloth’s name suggests, Belphegor’s curse plunges a person into extreme lethargy and helplessness. Dan’s weary tone and his habit of doing everything as if it were a bother — that was the curse.
And he’d had it for ten years.
What makes a demon’s curse troublesome isn’t only the spell’s effect; it’s the aftereffects it drags along. Belphegor’s curse was especially dangerous.
People who sink into helplessness often take their own lives quickly.
Yet Dan stood in front of me, breathing and alive.
For a single purpose.
And I had the power to help him. But first there was one thing I had to settle.
“Actually, Dan — I need to apologize to you.”
“To me…?”
“Because innocent squad members died because of me.”
“Ah…”
Dan closed his eyes a little. Even without direct contact with those squad members, he probably knew. I had hired the Shadow of Dawn, and the mercenaries who accepted the job had been attacked.
“You don’t need to worry about that, miss…” he said.
His response was not what I expected at all.
“Why?” I asked.
Why would he say that?
I felt inexplicably irritated.
“Why?” I repeated.
Because of me, innocent people became victims. I’d never even met them, yet they were harmed because of me.
I understood it intellectually — this world was a game world, not reality — but sometimes the heart and the head don’t move together.
“You said my mistake killed Dan’s subordinates. How can you say the things you just did?” I pressed.
Now seemed to be the moment.
“Why…?”
Dan looked as if he couldn’t understand me, just as I couldn’t understand him.
“It’s… our… business,” he said.
Whether it was Belphegor’s curse or Dan’s true feeling, I couldn’t tell.
“Is that so?” I said.
His answer was so simple, clear, and dry that it was almost unsatisfying — but I couldn’t argue with it.
“Are you… angry right now, miss…?” Dan asked.
“A little annoyed,” I admitted.
“Why… is that?”
“Because this whole situation is frustrating.”
Dan looked puzzled, as if he wanted to know what I meant. I didn’t even know why I was annoyed.
He stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly took a heavily scratched flute from his pocket and began to play.
The tune that came out was simple. The gentle sound of the flute drifted quietly under the sunset that was slipping below the horizon.
“Why are you playing all of a sudden?” I asked when the short piece ended.
“When I look at you… that child comes to mind…” Dan said, lowering the flute and turning his gaze to the grave. “It was the song he liked.”
“Really?”
“He probably liked someone like you.”
I turned to look at Dan.
“If that child… were still alive…”
Dan’s gaze didn’t move at all.
What?
His words made me doubt my ears. The inn staff had hinted that Dan’s sister might be alive — even giving the impression that she might still be around — and now Dan was saying something that suggested the same.
What was going on?
Dan didn’t seem like he was lying as he stared at the grave. If the innkeeper had been lying, there’d be no reason to do so.
When I had shown him the dagger, he had looked genuinely surprised.
Whatever the reason, it was welcome that Dan had finally spoken.
“So, is this grave your sister’s?”
“No…” Dan shook his head. “It’s the sin I couldn’t protect… the sin I can never wash away in my life.”
A word that would normally sound meaningless carried weight when it came from Dan.
In the game, Dan’s character had one goal: a revenant consumed by revenge, trying to kill the demons that had exterminated his small people. He’d been writhing under a terrible curse.
If I could help Dan now, that wouldn’t be enough. There were questions I still had to ask, and things I had to hear from him. This was the right time.
“Can I ask what happened?” I said.
“I can’t…,” he answered.
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t want to hear it… it’s a boring tale for you…”
Dan looked at me with that same, worn expression. Behind it was an exhaustion that had been ground down to nothing.
“Fine — I’ll be straight.” I took his arm. “Tell me what happened.”
“Why are you so… curious?” he asked.
For many reasons.
I couldn’t stay idle.
I had to make him an ally, and more than that —
“I received help too, so I want to help you. It’s only fair, right?”
I hated living in debt.
Dan’s face softened into a faint smile.
“You resemble… that child,” he said. I’d never seen Dan’s sister, but if I resembled her, it made sense that we’d get along.
But get on with it.
There was only Dan’s story left to hear.
I had some confidence he wouldn’t keep silent after all I’d done.
“But… no,” he said.
Apparently my confidence was less grounded than I thought.
“No — you set it up like you were going to tell me…!” I blurted, flustered.
“Why? Why can’t I?” I pressed.
“It’s beyond you, miss…”
“What on earth is?”
“This is a sin I must bear alone.”
…Ha.
A hollow laugh escaped me.
Hearing it described that way made it worse. I knew why Dan insisted on saying it like that.
It was the same frustration I’d faced when trying to win him over in the game.
There had only ever been one choice, and how many rounds had I run in circles for that? Back then I almost pulled my hair out.
Even in the game it had been that way, but hearing it with my own ears now was infuriating. The one silver lining was that, unlike the game, the options weren’t set. I could persuade Dan here and now.
