MHHC Chapter 60

Shell

Adelheid quickly lowered her gaze to hide her yearning, that dangerous want coiled inside her chest.

"I was just worried because the current situation is complicated."

"......"

"You're not yet familiar with the culture of high society. Even before, you only moved between Ansgar's territory and battlefields, so your memories must be sparse. So..."

"So."

Adelheid's face quickly crumpled into something close to tears. Unlike the days when he would back away at the slightest sign of her crying, this was different—the rules had changed, the game transformed into something she didn't recognize.

He had already crossed to her seat, straddling his knee over hers, trapping her movement as his hands pressed against the sides of her head like bars of a cage.

"Keep talking."

"You're not angry, are you?"

"I wonder. How do I look?"

Anxious and unsettled somehow, Adelheid thought, gazing up at him helplessly, caught between fear and something else she couldn't name.

The head that had been silently looking down at her tilted suddenly at an angle.

Lips more defined than a woman's—yet not nearly so proper in this moment—descended upon her neck, settling there like a brand.

When his breath tickled her skin and she twisted away, both her hands were caught and held fast.

He whispered in a voice tinged with something almost mournful, almost bitter.

"You always worry about humans, grieve for them. What about them pleases you so much? Is it because they're insignificant?"

"When did I ever—"

"...Or perhaps, do you pity them?"

"Am I in any position to pity anyone..."

The conversation was spiraling beyond any comprehension, unraveling like thread pulled from cloth. Valentin, watching expressionlessly, suddenly twisted his lips into something cruel.

"How much more suffering will it take before you give up?"

"It hurts."

"Of course it does. This isn't a reward."

Despite the savage reply, strength immediately drained from his hands. The touch that lifted her cheek became exquisitely careful, as if handling something that might shatter.

When she looked up at him as if entranced, Valentin smiled viciously again, something wild moving in his expression.

"Even like this, you won't come to your senses."

He bent his head at an angle and kissed her eyelid.

Below that, small kisses followed in succession, dense as falling petals. Cheek, earlobe, corner of her mouth, chin...

Deliberately spiteful—everywhere except the kiss she'd briefly yearned for, that place alone excluded with cruel precision.

"If you keep showing such openings, I want to exploit them. Though you'd be pretty crying and hating me too."

Do you really want that? His murmured words, casual as mentioning the weather, snapped her back to clarity. Adelheid gasped and quickly spoke.

"I don't understand what I did wrong..."

His lips grazed her neck dangerously, sliding over her collarbone like a knife's edge barely restrained.

"This was all said with you in mind, Valentin."

The movement that had been descending lower stopped briefly, arrested mid-motion.

Then Valentin raised his head. Narrowed eyes watched her with the intensity of a predator sighting prey.

Adelheid instinctively realized she'd stumbled close to the correct answer, that she couldn't let this moment slip through her fingers.

She looked straight into his eyes without flinching, pleading sincerity, letting him see everything written there.

"I didn't say these things out of concern for someone else. Besides... who else would I worry about?"

Valentin raised one eyebrow as if to say, go on, let's hear more. Adelheid swallowed hard, the sound loud in her own ears.

"Especially that sh-shell..."

Even speaking it made her feel ill, something turning over in her stomach.

"I truly wasn't worried about it at all. Not even a little."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, reading her like text in a language only he could decipher.

When she couldn't withstand that meaningful gaze and turned her head away, he caught her chin and fixed it firmly so she had to look at him, trapped in his regard.

"Really?"

"......"

"You worried about me—not other humans, not this shell—about me?"

His head tilted slightly, bird-like and predatory.

"Why?"

"...Just, I—"

"Could it be you pitied me?"

She nodded frantically, desperately. It was instinct that made her recognize this as the right answer, the key that might unlock this cage.

Valentin stared at her as if unable to believe it, then eventually smiled broadly, brilliantly.

His face, like something sculpted by divine hands, filled with an unrealistically beautiful flush of color—truly happy, as if nothing else in the world mattered.

It was a slightly ridiculous and sad sight all at once, beautiful and terrible in equal measure.

That one who rivaled gods should smile so brilliantly at mere human pity...

"Adele, say it again."

Only after Adelheid had told him several times more that she pitied him, that she worried for him, did Valentin finally release her from his grasp.

Adelheid steadied her disheveled breathing and adjusted her clothing. Her entire face burned crimson, heat spreading like wine staining silk.

"I just wanted to tell you that the current situation might be worse than you think. You probably don't know about human malice..."

Whether he found her earnestness endearing, or her words amusing—

Valentin smiled without a shadow, eyes narrowed. Yet he raised no objections to her opinion and replied obediently.

"You can just teach me such things."

"I could try with other matters, but when it comes to politics, I know nothing. I won't be able to overcome the cunning of aged nobles..."

He let out a low laugh.

"Young things who haven't even lived a hundred years—what cunning could they possess?"

"...Of course, from that perspective anyone would seem that way, but you still need some sense of caution. The capital is crawling with Morig's high priests everywhere and you—"

"Are a demon by birth, a dragon, so I must avoid 'divinity.' Is that what you were going to say?"

"Aren't you afraid?"

"The only thing I fear is you, Adele."

She blinked her round eyes.

Gazing at him as if requesting explanation, but Valentin smoothly drew both her hands toward him as if it meant nothing at all, as casual as breathing.

"Now, enough of such talk. Let me show you something good."

He gathered and spread both her palms facing upward as he spoke.

Almost identically to that gesture, Valentin removed the bracelet he'd fastened around her wrist.

"Ah..."

It was a bracelet she hadn't removed even when sleeping or bathing, worried she might inadvertently use magic.

Having worn it for days, removing it felt strange, like missing a tooth with her tongue.

Moreover, this place was Pragma—where one of Morig's three grand cathedrals stood, its spires piercing heaven.

When Adelheid looked at Valentin with anxious eyes, he lightly rubbed her soft palm with his thumb as if to say it was fine, nothing to fear.

"Concentrate. Now, try summoning magic to your palm."

Summoning magic was exactly like creating a channel to draw up water from deep wells.

She felt the spring-like source of magic dwelling within her body, that deep reservoir always present.

Stirring it gently, the magic that had been blocked by the bracelet—unable to flow naturally, pooling and gathering—surged up and blossomed, rising like tides answering the moon's call.

Was it because she was in contact with Valentin? The blue light of magic quickly filled her palm to overflowing, luminous and alien.

"Like this?"

"You're doing well. Try releasing just a little magic."

"I don't know how... My palm is too hot..."

"Calmly. If you don't know, just let it flow away."

"...I—"

"Adele, eyes open."

At his words, she gasped and snapped her eyes wide open, pulled back from the edge of panic.

Except for where the bluish light flowing from her palm had gathered, all the world's light seemed to have vanished—transformed to gray as if color itself had been leeched away, leaving only ash and shadow.

Within that void, only Valentin strangely maintained his color, vivid and real against the monochrome world.

Her heart lurched at the wondrous sight, that impossible vision of him burning like a single flame in darkness.

Valentin quickly grabbed both her wrists to prevent the magic held in her hands from scattering, anchoring her to reality.

"Slowly..."

His calm voice reached her ear like a lifeline thrown across churning water.

"Think of discarding only half. Like spilling water from a cup. Not all of it... That's right."

She felt magic seeping out between her fingers, escaping like smoke through cracks. Her slender fingertips trembled violently, shaking like leaves before storm.

The high-purity magic burned hot enough to blister. Would she get blisters on her palms? The thought flashed through her mind like lightning.

Whenever the impulse arose to drop this light from her palm immediately, to be free of this burning weight, Valentin soothed her with gentle touches, steadying hands.

"You're doing well. Now slowly close your hands."

Following Valentin's instructions, when she barely managed to close her hands, the magic resisted as if struggling, then gradually shrank to the size of a small walnut, condensing like a star collapsing into itself.

She gasped as she looked at Valentin, lungs aching for air.

She was breathless, languid all over as if she'd been submerged underwater and hauled back to the surface, dripping and disoriented.

The colors around her were slowly returning, bleeding back into the world. Adelheid tightened her grip, determined not to lose the magic she'd captured.

Valentin looked at the magic she held and spoke.

"In human terms, that's 'unrefined' magic. If you breathe intention into it, you can transform it into a spell."

"Into a spell."

"Though I helped today, for a first attempt this is quite good."

Valentin smiled smoothly, satisfaction gleaming in his expression.

"Most humans would faint if exposed to unrefined magic for the first time—even more so at vital points. Go ahead, try it on me."

Valentin pulled down his collar slightly, revealing his pale neck, vulnerable as an offering laid bare.

Adelheid stared up at him blankly, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"...You're telling me to attack you right now?"

"Adele. Do you think I'll actually get hurt?"

"You just said this power can hurt people. Just by bringing it near. Of course I—"

"Well, that's why I taught you."

His golden eyes, visible beyond the bluish light, watched her with something dangerous glinting in their depths, pupils slit like a serpent's.

She alternated between looking at Valentin's rarely revealed slit pupils and his exposed neck, paralyzed with uncertainty. He licked his lips as if urging action, impatient as a cat toying with prey.

"Quickly, Adele."

Was it because Valentin had said such things? What she held seemed like a terrible, fearsome blade, something meant to cut and ruin.

Adelheid hesitated, then ultimately lost hold of the magic completely, letting it slip away like water through desperate fingers.

Valentin's eyes widened in surprise, then habitually narrowed as he smiled—but the expression seemed disappointed somehow, hollow despite the curve of his lips.

"...Since I taught you this for self-defense, practice it many times. So you can create it alone even in urgent moments."

"......"

"Once you're accustomed, you'll be able to create earthquakes and tsunamis with this."

"But, Valentin."

Adelheid, who had been quietly looking down at her hands, raised her tearful eyes, vulnerability written across her features like poetry.

"You clearly said that magic and holy power are hard to distinguish. That healing magic is also possible, so I thought..."

"Let me be clear—it only works like that when first exposed to high-purity magic. Like a fish living in warm water encountering cold water—the shock is severe, a violence of transformation."

"......"

"They'll only lose consciousness briefly, and won't even notice, but if you're concerned, have them hold a magic stone before casting healing magic."

Just as he said that, an unnaturally white light burst like an intense flash from the sky outside the carriage, violent and intrusive.

Adelheid pressed herself against the carriage window in alarm, peering outside into that terrible radiance.

The white light she'd thought had burst from the sky was actually flowing from the main tower of Morig's grand cathedral, pouring out like blood from a wound.

Adelheid saw human hands—thick and clustered—within that light, grotesque as a nightmare made flesh.

Like what she'd seen in Valentin's power before. She watched them descend onto people's heads and shoulders, crawling one by one across skin and hair like spiders.

"Good God..."

Unlike Adelheid, horrified by that terrible sight, Pragma's people looked up at the light with ecstatic eyes, worshipful and entranced, drinking in divinity like wine.

Only Adelheid seemed to see the 'hands,' visible to her alone in all that crowd.

As she froze at the unbelievable sight, a large hand reached before her and drew the carriage curtain closed, blocking out the horror beyond.

She barely managed to speak, voice thin as thread.

"What was that?"

"Morig."

"M-Morig? That thing? Then that means—"

"Yes."

Valentin's low laughter sounded somehow chilling, cold as frost spreading across glass in winter's darkest hour.

"Morig has finally noticed that I'm here."