The moment Theo opened his eyes, he knew something had changed. He’d barely shifted inside the blanket, yet his clothes felt unusually short and tight. The sleeves had ridden up past his wrists, and his ankles showed plainly beneath the hem of his trousers.
Over the memories of his twelve-year-old self, forgotten stretches of time came layering back.
At fifteen, he had been the youngest student ever admitted to the Imperial Academy’s swordsmanship division. The quiet ridicule and dismissal that trailed behind him for being a commoner and an orphan. People who were pleasant in words but always kept their distance in the end. Events already long past — and yet they felt as vivid as if they’d just happened. His heart beat quickly.
Theo rolled onto his side and burrowed into Lihen’s arms. Warm. Pressing his forehead against Lihen’s chest, the restlessness inside him slowly began to settle.
Theo lifted his head and looked at the sleeping Lihen. Gray hair lay spread across the pillow, and those red eyes — which had felt distinctive from the very first moment he saw them — were hidden beneath closed eyelids. He was a man whose appeal lay partly in the way the corners of his eyes curved thin when he smiled. The pale skin often gave an impression that wasn’t quite human, but the body heat that came through was exactly as warm and soft as any human’s.
To his twelve-year-old self, Lihen had simply been a kind person. An inexplicably gentle adult who had saved him when he was dying, buried in the snow.
But now, carrying three more years of memory, he couldn’t see him in quite such simple terms.
Maybe he has some kind of purpose.
The thought occurred to him, but it didn’t disappoint.
People generally moved according to self-interest. A kindness without reason was actually the stranger thing. For someone to care for a child picked up from a snowdrift this thoroughly and wholeheartedly — there had to be some calculation behind it.
Theo quietly ran through the possibilities.
Perhaps Lihen was hoping that if the child he’d taken in were to grow up one day with his curse lifted, he would surely repay the debt. The clothes Theo had been wearing when he’d collapsed were clearly expensive — no ordinary child, to any eye. It was possible that in Lihen’s eyes, Theo had looked like someone who would one day reclaim power or status.
If that was the case, then he would have to meet Lihen’s expectations. Once the curse was fully lifted and all his lost memories returned, he would have to repay the debt without fail.
Thinking this, Theo pressed himself closer to Lihen. He wanted to hold onto this warmth forever.
And then, quietly, another feeling raised its head.
Once he was fully grown, he would no longer be able to curl up like this, or lean on someone so freely. That fact made him a little — no, very — sad.
Theo thought to himself: if possible, he wanted to grow slowly. Wanting this time, this embrace, to last just a little longer.
* * *
“See? I told you, didn’t I? Eat well, sleep well, and you’ll grow in no time. You’re practically an adult now.”
I clapped with genuine enthusiasm at the sight of Theo, who had shot up considerably. He was wearing the loose, roomy clothes I’d prepared in advance. But for some reason, Theo seemed displeased at being called an adult.
“I’m not an adult yet. I’m fifteen.”
“What, really. First time I’ve ever met a kid who doesn’t want to be called an adult.”
I grumbled playfully and gave Theo’s cheek a light pinch. The feel of it against my fingertips was soft and pliant.
“So, how much of your memory has come back? What kind of person were you at fifteen?”
I slid a warm cup of milk across the table toward him and asked. Theo wrapped both hands around the cup, took a sip, and then came out with something unexpected.
“Want to play a question-and-answer game?”
“Hm?”
“We take turns asking and answering what we’re curious about each other. The theme would be… the past.”
It seemed like Theo had invented this game because he wanted to know more about me. It wasn’t exactly a suitable game for a Demon Legion Commander with as many things to hide as I had. One awkward lie could come back to trip me up later. And more than anything, I already knew nearly everything there was to know about Theo’s past.
“Let’s save the question game for later. Once all your memories have come back.”
I did the best I could — I deferred the decision.
Theo quietly took hold of my arm.
“You don’t want to know right now what kind of person I am?”
I only smiled gently.
“Listen, Theo. Whether fifteen-year-old you was a young nobleman or a pickpocket scraping by day to day — it doesn’t matter to me. I decided I’d stay by your side and watch over you until you’re grown.”
Theo stared at me blankly, then murmured almost to himself:
“It doesn’t matter….”
He carefully loosened his grip on my wrist, then confessed as if having made up his mind:
“At fifteen, I had a talent for swordsmanship.”
I widened my eyes slightly, feigning mild surprise.
“Oh, really?”
Theo leaned forward a little, eyes bright.
“So — could you get me a sword? I want to start practicing again.”
“Sure, I’ll get you one. But I have one condition. For the time being, practice with me. Don’t push yourself — only as far as you’re capable of going.”
I tapped the tip of his nose lightly with one finger. Yes, I’d love that. Theo nodded happily.
* * *
I took Theo with me to the bookshop and helped him pick out a few books suited for a fifteen-year-old. I didn’t concern myself with the price. Was money really going to be a problem when I was raising a hero? Theo seemed quite taken aback that a single battered old book had a price tag of five silver coins.
“This is too expensive. You don’t need to spend this much on me….”
“Come on, really. Stop worrying about money, would you? I told you — I have an inheritance.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t understand where he was coming from. As an orphan who had lost his parents, Theo had once had some inheritance of his own — but it had all been stripped away by relatives. He knew, better than anyone, how quickly money could disappear into nothing. And besides, I was living in a reasonably run-down little cabin with not a single servant. I probably didn’t look much like someone sitting on a large fortune.
I couldn’t make him dredge up painful memories. To put him at ease, I deliberately laid on a little more bluster than usual.
“And honestly — I’m confident I can make plenty of money. The reason I’m living without a job is because I have a plan.”
Despite his protests that it was too much, I pressed an armful of books into him regardless. Theo said he would be sure to repay the kindness one day, and hugged the books carefully to his chest.
The moment we got home, Theo opened one of the gifted books. He sat at the desk, back straight, and began to read with a remarkably composed air. Watching him, I felt like a parent who had somehow ended up with a model student for a child.
Just then, the communication orb gave a faint vibration. Kairos. He was probably about to hand me another quest. Having played through the game at least once — even roughly — I had a vague recollection of what that quest would be. If things went well, it could be the event where I’d be able to give Theo a sword as a gift. Gain the points and get a weapon at the same time. A complete two-birds-one-stone situation.
I excused myself on the pretense of going to the bathroom, locked the door, and took out the orb. The order I’d been expecting came through exactly as anticipated.
“Destroy the Holy Knights’ armory.”
<Main Quest>
Destroy the Holy Knights’ Armory
Time limit: Within 2 weeks
Success:
High — Destroy all 7 armories: Infamy points +1,500p
Mid — Destroy 4–6: Infamy points +1,000p
Low — Destroy 1–3: Infamy points +700p
Failure: Kairos’s fury
The time limit was fairly generous, probably because of the difficulty. The points were generous too. That said — what exactly would happen if I failed and incurred Kairos’s fury? Curiosity stirred, but I had no desire to find out. Unlike the actual game, there was no saving and loading here. Fail once, and that would be the end of it.
First of all, destroying all 7 was impossible with my current stats — and honestly, I didn’t want to. The damage to the human side would be too significant. Destroying just 4 armories still yielded 1,000 infamy points. That felt about right.
From what I remembered, the genuinely elite weapons were stored in armories 1 through 3, while those from armory 4 onward were comparatively lower in quality. The plan was simple. Raid armory 1 and take a sword for Theo and a weapon for myself, then destroy armories 4 through 7. Collect the points, get what we need. Everything in one go.
I was still mentally mapping out the route when Kairos cut through my thoughts.
“And it seems soul offerings have not been properly carried out lately.”
Hm?
This hadn’t been in the original game. Probably because I hadn’t offered a single soul this entire time.
“If this keeps up, I have no choice but to question your loyalty. A half-breed, at that. Don’t tell me you’re taking pity on the humans because of your human blood.”
“I apologize for the concern. I was simply deliberating over which souls would be most worthy to offer the Demon King….”
I put on the slit-eyed character’s trademark smile — the kind that suggested there was something more going on beneath the surface. Kairos had no interest in hearing my excuses.
“I don’t care about any of that. Offer thirty souls within a week. If you don’t, I will strip you of your title as Legion Commander.”
<Sudden Quest>
Offer 30 Souls as Tribute
Time limit: Within 1 week
Success: Infamy points +1,000p
Failure: Legion Commander title revoked
My first instinct was that if keeping the title required sacrificing thirty souls, perhaps it would be better to simply let it be revoked. But if I were expelled from the position of Legion Commander, I’d have no way of receiving future quests from Kairos. And without quests, there was no way to collect infamy points.
In the end, there was only one choice.
I opened the door and stepped out. Theo was still sitting with perfect posture, reading. His golden hair and golden eyes — as if spun from molten sunlight — caught the light and gleamed beautifully.
He was the only proof that I was walking the right path. The one I had to protect by whatever means necessary, and the hero of the human world I had to raise to be truly good.
I reached up and stroked Theo’s head with care. Then I said something that even surprised me with how much it sounded like something a father would say.
“Just grow up to be decent and healthy. That’s all I could ask for.”
Theo blinked, wide-eyed, then broke into a clear, bright smile.
“Lihen just sounded really like a dad right now.”
That landed somewhere strange in my chest. Whether to call it happiness or guilt-tinged bitterness, I wasn’t sure. I was telling him to grow up decent — and I wasn’t living that way myself. I couldn’t bring myself to take my hand off his head.
So for a long while, I kept running my fingers through Theo’s fine golden hair — the way you might absentmindedly pet a dog — and slowly, my heart began to settle.
Right. What in this world is truly impossible? I already brought down a statue and burned down a temple without a single casualty. Then surely, somewhere, there has to be a way to offer souls in a manner that incurs as little sin as possible.
Rather than being consumed by guilt, I would quietly do what needed to be done. That was the conclusion I’d arrived at.
To shake off the heaviness, I tossed Theo a lighthearted joke.
“What, do you want to call me dad? You can, if you’d like.”
“No. What kind of dad would be this young?”
Theo quickly shook his head. The movement sent his hair brushing against my chest. Only then did I realize we were standing much closer than I’d noticed. He had his upper body leaned quite fully toward me. He continued, in a voice as warm as spring sunlight:
“Lihen is… Lihen. That’s more than enough.”
