MHHC Chapter 98

Back to That Day

Divine will dwelled in that final utterance.

The moment Valentin gently pushed her away, warmth spread from Adelheid's legs upward.

What magic had he cast? Strangely, she felt not even a trace of lingering attachment. Something warm and vast moved her body.

Adelheid turned around, gathered several items and a bag. She ran through the corridor, outside the temple, into the rain-drenched forest.

[You're small, and if I swallowed you, you'd melt away softly.]

How shameless.

[I don't know what to do with you.]

That night. That languid heat, those careful movements, that tender eye contact. Those thick fingers intertwining with her delicate ones, spreading each joint to its limit.

[When everything is over, we could leave this place. Finding a better place to live together would be nice too.]

She felt the strength that had held her tightly beginning to slowly depart. It was the power that had moved her arms and legs, making her run. But... whose voice had that been?

[Go, Adelheid.]

She paused her steps briefly at the forest's edge. She was crying, yet couldn't understand why.

Everything was as hazy as a dream.

What she'd been doing here, where she should go, even who the father of the child in her belly was.

The only thing dwelling in her mind was that she must vanish from society forever, just like this.

And eight months later, Adelheid gave birth to a dead child.

It was still a dream. As the years flowed past, the world changed remarkably quickly.

Verdure gradually returned to the burned plains, cities arose from crumbled ruins.

During that time, Adelheid died, and died, and died, and died. And was reborn, and reborn, and reborn, and reborn.

It was shortly after Adelheid was reborn for the sixth time that Valentin could separate his soul from the physical body he'd sealed away.

From then on, Valentin watched over her.

He desperately hoped she would be happy, but no matter how she was born, she remained unhappy, frequently ill, repeating brief lives before dying.

The reasons for death differed each time, but the cause was singular.

Morig. His twin always circled around Adelheid.

It was cruel, persistent surveillance—an inexplicable obsession.

One day, Morig summoned him.

'Pitiful, stupid brother without even a name. Do you really think that girl can even see you, behaving like this?'

Valentin's existence was exceedingly faint in those days.

So feeble he seemed ready to dissipate at any moment, yet not an existence Morig could kill even by pouring out his entirety.

Though corrupting, the world still recognized him as a god.

Morig seemed dissatisfied with that. His mockery was vicious.

'You dare presume, shamelessly, when you can barely maintain form.'

The derision pierced painfully. But Valentin could answer nothing. So he simply asked.

[Why do you torment that child?]

'She carried your offspring. It's a necessary punishment to purify that sin.'

Morig added with a sly smile.

'When the soul that had imprinted on you shatters, and even her body becomes utterly tattered and ragged, then she'll know precisely who her savior was.'

It was revolting. More so than insects clinging to fresh willows, draining every drop of sap.

He wanted to tear it off immediately, crush it to pieces, but regretted having no strength remaining. As though that scarlet fury was satisfying, Morig laughed.

'Let's make a wager.'

[A wager.]

'I merely picked up your abandoned divinity to become a god in human eyes. I can't even manifest will. Every time I deliver an oracle, I must transform into a priest or manipulate their mind—it's terribly bothersome.'

In Morig's eyes, boasting of what he'd stolen, cruel delight sparkled.

'I can no longer be satisfied with just half. So let's wager over the position of god.'

[Speak.]

'If... then I win. If the opposite, you win. Then I'll withdraw cleanly without lingering attachment.'

[Withdraw means.]

'Annihilation. Complete.'

Morig smiled.

'You'll have to stake the same thing.'

"She" wanted to scream at Valentin not to accept that proposal.

Even without knowing what the proposal was. But as though blocked by an invisible membrane, no sound reached him. In her receding vision, she saw Valentin nod.

[I'll set the starting date of the wager. By coming to find you.]

From that scene, whoosh, the landscape flipped forward again. Considerable time seemed to have passed.

Morig was now regarded as the sole deity.

He wielded the power of miracles and purification derived from Valentin's divinity overflowing into the world as though it were his own.

The church's influence grew daily, and even the human king prostrated himself at the church's feet.

In the process, the "Dragon of Bitzleben" was degraded into something utterly wicked and malevolent.

Similarly, the healing power that was part of divinity came to dwell in an extremely small number of humans after numerous experiments and failures.

And finally, from the 'crumbs' that couldn't be used anywhere, monsters began to be born from corruption.

It took considerable additional time before Valentin could utilize those 'crumbs.'

The divinity he handled after so long had been transformed to match Morig's nature ages ago.

It didn't even recognize its own master, attempting to devour him instead, which caused no small trouble.

But once he could wield power, Valentin could gather more and more 'crumbs.'

To face a monster, he had no choice but to become a monster himself.

Even so, the abilities of a god who'd lost his faithful could only dwell in utterly insignificant things.

Casting light illusions on humans to change the name of a child they'd intended to give, or slightly altering the appearance of the man destined to be 'Adelheid's' companion in this life.

Or, like Morig, pouring wicked whispers into human ears.

"Shadow... all my life... I've heard your voice... whispering in my ear..."

Then one day, sweet fruit summoned him.

"I must... win this war. I desire... unbreakable honor."

Valentin slowly opened his eyes. Breaking through long, terribly aged waiting.

The moment Valentin opened his eyes within the dream, Adelheid in reality also opened hers simultaneously. The surroundings were pitch black.

Her entire body had no strength, as though she'd awakened after being fully submerged underwater.

Where was this place exactly? Inside a dream? Or within some cruel trick or hallucination? She was even confused about 'which' Adelheid she was.

My name is Adelheid Désirée Bathildis Nürnbergian...

No, it wasn't. Adelheid Walter, Adelheid Kirstin, Adelheid...

"Adele."

She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears with trembling hands. The dream, that voice—no more.

"Adelheid."

Ah.

She felt a dark form grasp her wrist firmly.

Because she'd been trying to scratch her face with her nails.

It hadn't been an attempt at self-harm. Simply—the sense of reality was—excessive. Hoping if it was a dream, she'd wake again.

She felt her body being caught, as if imprisoned, in someone's broad, solid embrace. Like in the dream.

Yes, it was an utterly familiar sensation. Adelheid clutched Valentin's lapels with both hands, trembling and sobbing. Please don't forgive me...

"Please calm down. Everything's all right."

It wouldn't be all right. How could it possibly be all right? Belated guilt was excruciating.

Self-loathing became a terrible blade carving slowly through her entire body.

I stabbed you to save our child. Afterward, I hoped that even if I was torn to shreds and died, at least the child could live.

Yet I was foolish and inadequate, failing to protect even that.

Valentin absorbed all her violent sobbing with equanimity.

"So how... could I... what audacity... do I have..."

"It's all in the past."

His voice was as deep and blue as always. Without a single point of despair or worry. As though it was already behind them, requiring no forgiveness.

Guilt with no outlet swelled suffocatingly.

"You keep crying."

He gently kissed her drooping cheeks and forehead. Hot breath scattered along her skin.

She slowly realized. The language reaching her ears repeatedly wasn't 'will.' It was a voice carrying definite warmth.

"Val... entin..."

She barely managed to call his name. At the edge of her tear-soaked vision, his face finally came into view.

Golden eyes and a face that seemed slightly gaunt, a fine nose bridge and lips. Appearing unchanged from hundreds of years ago and now.

"Yes. I'm here."

Valentin slowly stroked her emaciated back with his large hand.

His body heat felt excessively hot against her chilled body.

Valentin carefully adjusted his hold on her as she fidgeted in his embrace.

"Remember slowly. Don't rush."

Adelheid leaned her weary forehead against his solid chest. It's all right, you can recall very slowly.

At his gentle voice, the dream's lingering traces gradually began peeling away.

She fluttered open her eyelashes, stiff and matted from wetness.

"Where... am I..."

"The imperial palace. Do you remember up to the hunt?"

The imperial palace. She slowly retraced her memories.

The second day of the hunt.

She'd found Hilda, received Nassau's ring, heard the prophecy, used excessive magic, was caught using magic...

The fragmented memories slowly began piecing together.

Her last memory cut off at the moment she'd been drinking Valentin's blood to restore her damaged magical source.

Everything after was pitch-black darkness.

She moved her pale lips slightly.