"N-nothing," I stammered nervously.

Love... for Eunice?

Hah... What a joke. I was killed once by her. How could I have feelings for her? Could it be Stockholm Syndrome?

No, no, no... This must be a misunderstanding!

How could I like this weirdo? If I wanted a girlfriend, it should be someone cuter.

Eunice... sometimes she’s terrifying. Her deep black eyes hold something I can’t decipher.

Yet, on the surface, they’re as calm as a lake.

So why would I like someone like that? It’s all an illusion. Yeah! An illusion!

"Nothing?" Eunice asked.

"Y-yeah, really nothing..." I replied unconfidently.

I wasn’t sure if Eunice noticed my odd behavior, but she definitely sensed my gaze. Reading emotions from a look? She probably couldn’t do that.

My face flushed. It felt like a boy caught peeking at a classmate—though I never did that. Some inner dissonance made me unable to like girls.

Being a shut-in is really bad.

This racing heart and burning cheeks—is this love? But why would my first love be Eunice? Or rather, Eunice occupying my body?

Could I not love Eunice, but myself?

Well... I know that’s impossible.

That girl in my body has started occupying my thoughts, with some inexplicable feeling.

Is that really love?

Could I actually like the one who killed me? Am I a masochist...

Restless, I forced my attention away from the chaos.

Wind swept across the grassland, whispering softly. Orange flames crackled faintly.

Guards huddled by the fire, eating grilled meat and joking. Night was much colder than day, yet Burdock, the guild master, wore only a thin linen coat. He didn’t seem cold, holding a glistening, oily skewer as he chatted.

Gry stood watch farther from camp, on night duty. Four guards covered the four corners.

Gazing around, I remembered Violet was still asleep in the carriage behind me. Unlike Eunice, she was ordinary—no powers, so she’d get hungry too.

She’d slept this whole time. Just how much did Violet love sleeping?

With that thought, I stood up.

"What’s up?" Eunice looked at me.

"Checking on Miss Violet. Skipping dinner makes midnight awful."

In my old world, I stayed up late often—I knew this well.

"Worried about her?"

"Yeah. Violet agreed to let us join the caravan to Bluewater City. She seems kind."

Eunice glanced toward the carriage. "Go ahead. But be gentle. Don’t wake her."

"Uh... why?"

I didn’t get it. Waking her? Wasn’t I about to rouse sleeping Violet for food...

"You’ll see," Eunice said, sitting on the wooden crate as I rose.

Annoyed. That crate fit two easily. Why wait for me to stand? ...I really didn’t want to know.

Love can go die!

Gloomy, I walked toward Violet’s carriage. Halfway, I recalled Eunice’s words. Her move had dealt a critical hit to my heart, but I slowed my steps.

Violet might not have slept enough. I’d try waking her gently.

If she still looked tired, I’d let her rest. Being disturbed while asleep isn’t pleasant.

At the carriage, I climbed on softly, lifted a curtain corner, and peeked inside.

—A weeping girl. Violet, in tears.

The sight made my pupils contract. My heart nearly stopped. Time froze.

Moonstone’s soft light filled the carriage. Violet, with flaxen hair, knelt by the window, staring blankly outside. Firelight flickered on her face. Two tear tracks slid from her moist eyes down her cheeks, dripping onto her dress.

Her clear eyes reflected the night flames. Tears fell like the fire itself was weeping.

Wet stains on her dress silently spoke of sorrow.

Violet... hadn’t noticed me.

She just gazed at the fire, silent and still.

Her firelit eyes held deep despair.

I lowered the curtain quietly, stepped down softly, and stood nearby, heart heavy.

Cold night wind blew past, but my chest felt tight, breathless.

I stopped beside Eunice on the crate. Staring at the flames, silent for seconds, I asked, "Eunice... did you know Violet was awake?"

"Yes. Since she first moved."

"Why is she... like this?"

Eunice glanced at Burdock, eating heartily with guards. "I don’t know. Everyone has secrets."

"Krein, you’re no exception. Who’d guess you’re the Demon King who drew the Demonic Sword?" She stood up. "I’m checking on Rosalynd. Sleep early, but not deeply. Remember—these people can’t be fully trusted."

Eunice brushed past me toward Rosalynd’s carriage.

Everyone has secrets...

I stood frozen, filled with melancholy.

My biggest secret isn’t being the Demon King. It’s that I’m from another world.