Chapter 80: The Dark Wizard

"Oh... can I consider your attitude... a repeated provocation?" Suddenly, Salser spoke in a very low voice, "Caren Hortensia, you are very interesting, no, not quite appropriate—but still very interesting. But if I were you... I would never do the same thing in your position."

The nun met his gaze with a calm expression, speaking softly, "Salser Bettrafio, why do you say such things? Don't you think it's quite different from your previous style of speech?"

"Ah, provocation, you persist in unearthing what I wish to conceal," Salser rose from the bed's edge, his gaze condescending as he looked down at the woman, "I expected a modicum of reason from you, yet it appears you are bereft of it. You ought to be acutely aware of your precarious position... and, you do comprehend the implications of your actions, do you not—nun?" His hand settled upon Caren's shoulder, his grip firm, "In this situation, to provoke a demon with an unknown background is hardly a prudent decision." 

That hand seemed to cause her pain, but Salser noticed that her expression remained unchanged—like an emotionless puppet.

"So, you completely consider yourself a demon?"

"Do you pity me? You, who are worthy of pitying me?" Salser lowered his head, meeting her gaze with cold eyes, "A masochist devoid of normal senses pities me! You shouldn't be doing this at a time like this... alereflammam (adding fuel to the fire)..." He gripped the arm she had unwrapped, examining it with keen interest. His grip was firm, his actions devoid of mercy: "This... this arm that shatters at the mere presence of a demon, is the first living specimen I've ever seen. But in the past, I've personally dissected three of your kind's corpses myself, and even after their souls entered the Gate of Hood, their bodies continued to react—a spectacle both intriguing and indelible."

"Because of my inquiry, are you going to kill me here?" Caren tilted her head, lifting her gaze.

Salser shook his head.

"Unfortunately, I am confined here due to a damnable oath, which prevents me from immediately ending your life, for such an act would cast me into dire straits," he continued, "But this does not mean I will be forced to lower myself to converse with you because of the oath. You can see me for what I am... which is a relief—because some people cannot do so."

"......Is that so? Do you believe this is your true nature, or has your mind been twisted due to demonization?"

"Oh—it's not what you imagine, child, human nature is inherently greedy for power and driven by impetuous desires."

Salser shook his head from side to side, speaking softly, "When Nero issues commands, she often says, 'You know what I want.' This isn't entirely accurate, perhaps just a rumor among the populace, yet it offers some merit as a point of reference. Now, what intrigues me is—what exactly do you want, nun?"

"Your straightforward question is a comfort to me," Caren said nonchalantly, "But alas... I'm not sure what I want, perhaps merely a curiosity about the fabled demonology school of dark wizards."

"You are indeed well-versed in demonology," Salser spoke in a low tone. He lowered his face a bit more, observing Caren's unchanging expression. "Yes," he said, "Yes... our legends are spread across many demonic territories, you are not tricking me—I see your thoughts in your eyes."

Silence. Salser felt a strange confusion, an eerie perplexity.

He proceeded, "It's evident you are endeavoring to delve into my thoughts, and you do indeed possess a considerable wealth of knowledge. Knowledge is power, isn't it? Yet, you haven't buried this within yourself, instead, you've expressed it openly here...what do you intend to achieve?"

"......That part, it's a bit painful," she said, "Could you loosen your grip a little, on my arm?"

A cold chuckle.

"I am not a man of mercy, nun, you are a delicate piece, hence I am already exercising great caution, this minor discomfort should be of no consequence to you. Now, let us revert to the subject of your provocation... rather than licking the blood from your finger like a dog, I prefer a more proactive—or more to my liking—approach." Salser parted her wound with two fingers—that slowly split open and slowly healed—and pressed his lips upon her delicate arm as if bestowing a kiss, biting down forcefully, almost sinking his teeth into her flesh, and slowly sucked the blood that flowed from her wound.

"I deliberately heightened the sensitivity of my taste buds... to fulfill your wish, are you moved by this?" He lifted his head, his mouth and teeth stained crimson, "Through the shared senses between us, have you truly tasted the flavor of your own blood?"

She pursed her lips, her fingers trembling from the pain of the previous action.

"Yes, a very... bitter taste."

"Perhaps you should be grateful I am human," Salser casually let go of her arm, which bore tooth marks and fading bruises, "After all, a demon's sense of taste is different from ours, entirely different."

"Should I be grateful for experiencing the taste of my blood through a human's palate?" Caren put her fingers in her mouth, licking off the blood... but seemed to taste nothing, "I can only feel a very faint flavor, as bland as water."

"Gratitude? This is not the time for jesting, nun," Salser matched her expressionless demeanor, "You are already blaspheming your faith."

"The rules of the church and the will of God are two separate matters," Caren showed no concern, merely calmly clasped her hands together in front of her chest, closed her eyes, "Comforting a soul wandering in darkness—the Lord would approve of my wish."

"The overseer of the Temple of Light... your Lord is indeed mysterious, even more so than the ancient gods," Salser let out a gloomy laugh, "But I require no comfort from you! Child, I am well aware of my thoughts. With the passage of time, what I will remember is no longer your trivial disputes born from minor differences, nor the ancestral grudges created by ethnicity and faith, but I do not wish to reveal this so blatantly, do you understand? Of course you do! Humans are driven by hatred and desires, I never deny these, would you deny them?"

"It sounds like you've lived through many years," Caren responded indifferently, "So, what do you care about?"

"Your curiosity won't always ensure your survival, Caren Hortensia."

"The Lord teaches me that I should live for this, and die for this."

"I hold respect for your faith, I hold respect for any great thing. Your faith prevents you from tearing at each others, from drifting through life without purpose, from seeking power at all costs, I hold respect for you, yet your faith is inconsequential to me." Salser placed his hand on her slender and soft shoulder again, "My life has always meant... choice, whereas you, to put it plainly, are determined by life."

"So, is it you who now decides for me?"

"I'll refrain from taking this as a mockery," Salser lowered his voice, placing his other hand on her shoulder as well, "Right now, it is indeed me who decides for your life."

"But you seem unable to decide whether I should die immediately, or continue to live."

"Oh! That's not what this means, this means—your future also represents your life, although it was once determined by your life, but from now on, it will be determined by my choices... look into my eyes, etch your soul onto these lines."

"An unequal contract written in the language of the Outer Gods... it seems I have no choice but to accept?"

"Fear is also a form of power, a power that can keep one alive. Although you do not experience fear, you have something akin to it... or the emotions that drive your life. These emotions determine your life, and also your submissive nature. Just as you can observe what I don't want you to see, I can also see what lies beneath your mask—in my words, you are not suited to training dogs, you are more suited to being trained."

"It seems you and I are equally adept at bluffing."

"Sign it honestly."

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