Chapter 74

# 74

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On the third floor, the moonlight became the only source of illumination, casting its glow inside.

Lark was immersed in a deathly silence under the pale moonlight.

The Esselred mansion was so large that it could be called a castle.

With one of its floors completely empty, it felt as if he had been stranded on a deserted island.

The passage of days and seasons seemed quite dull when he was confined here by himself.

It was a state akin to a simulated death.

Lark, with his exceptionally keen senses, would have felt the passage of time even more acutely without such measures, and his mind would have collapsed before his body.

Lark knew several instances from his many lives where he had been the most insane.

That's why he didn't want to become like that again.

After all, someone was waiting for him.

Unless it was an explosion like the one on the day Navia arrived or Theorban loudly proclaiming near the central staircase, Lark could live in isolation from the world.

It was just that the atmosphere was different.

No matter how excellent an assassin, as long as they harbored the intent to kill, Lark could sense it from a distance.

And now, three such intents had caught his attention.

They were heading towards the second floor.

"…Another assassin."

It was annoying and frustrating.

Just what was that kid, to cause so much trouble?

Should he just ignore it? Lark kicked the table with his foot.

"Damn it."

He couldn't bear the frustration of just ignoring it.

Snap!

Lark moved through space irritably.

Upon arriving at the second floor, new information flooded in.

Navia wasn't in her room. The assassins had noticed this and were searching other rooms.

Ah, the assassins had found where Navia was.

It seemed there was a tracking mage among them.

Lark sent a shadow in that direction.

Whoosh.

Lark suddenly appeared in the storage room, glancing at the assassins being consumed by the black shadow.

Somehow, he faintly sensed Margaret's magic power here.

Mages usually couldn't sense the magic power of kin unless they were exceptionally perceptive.

But that was irrelevant to Lark.

'Did Margaret do something?'

He was puzzled by this.

Just then, a blade was thrust towards him.

Turning around, he saw Navia with wide, glaring eyes, trying to stab him.

"Trying to stab me? How insolent."

Navia lifted her head in surprise.

The child's red eyes trembled slightly, visible in the light streaming through the open door.

"Your Grace…?"

Lark took the paper knife from Navia's hand. She had been gripping it so tightly that her body swayed.

"Can you really deal with assassins with something like this?"

"How did you…?"

Navia quickly scanned her surroundings with a confused look.

The shadow she had placed on the door had sharply alerted her to the intruder.

Prepared for any situation, she had grabbed the paper knife she found in the room and lunged at the person in front of her.

'There were definitely three presences.'

But suddenly, only Lark was there, alone.

"There were definitely assassins…"

"I killed them."

Lark's clear and concise answer made Navia's mouth drop slightly.

'So, you saved me again…?'

It was too dark to see Lark's face, which was turned away from the light.

Navia hesitated for a moment before expressing her gratitude.

"…Thank you for saving me."

Lark looked at Navia's bare feet.

Was it because wearing slippers would reduce her mobility? Her composure in the face of death was overly calm, as if she had experienced it many times and knew not to make a fuss.

Her actions, which seemed to be a habit of dealing with things alone, kept overlapping with his own past.

'Ha. Enough with the delusions.'

He kept projecting himself onto this child, which he needed to stop.

He snapped coldly.

"You can't even protect yourself, yet you talk about protecting this house?"

He didn't understand why he had said such a thing.

If the child said, "I'm sorry," he would just get angry.

But he couldn't help it. It was frustrating how she kept getting under his skin.

'Don't get under my skin.'

Please, don't get under my skin.

Then Navia said,

"I will protect it."

It was a half-impulsive statement.

But Navia repeated it with a slightly trembling voice.

"I will protect it for you."

Lark was speechless.

'You can't even protect yourself, and you talk about protecting others?'

He clenched his hand so tightly that his nails dug into his palm, causing a wound.

Navia lowered her gaze, embarrassed, knowing she was weak.

Her silver eyelashes fell limply, her eyes half-closed, looking so pitiful.

'Damn it.'

"You're not funny."

He didn't want to see her like this.

He didn't want to see the results of his own words.

He didn't want to be abandoned.

'Selfish brat.'

Lark didn't particularly want to be a good person. He didn't care if he was selfish or violent.

What did any of that mean? Life's fulfillment is found in death. Lark had no purpose or value in life because he had no death.

But right now, he found himself disgusting.

Navia had made him this way.

The child had illuminated his ugly and dirty self with her bright flame.

Lark felt as if he was drowning in confusion, which was not a good sign.

If he didn't keep his mind in a simulated death state, the cracks would appear more frequently.

Death would come sooner than expected.

That was still a problem, so he warned Navia coldly with a frosty expression.

"Don't get under my skin anymore. That's all you can do."

Navia lowered her gaze even further.

As expected, Lark's only wish for her was that she not get under his skin.

He had heard that countless times.

It was a lifelong task, something she had always strived to do.

But it was so difficult.

People found her very annoying just by existing.

"…Yes, I will try my best."

But Navia's answer was predetermined, as was her task.

To try not to get under his skin.

This was her lifelong assignment, given to her again.

'It's because I didn't try hard enough today.'

There must have been a better way, or she could have predicted and prevented such incidents if she had been more capable.

Navia constantly blamed herself.

But if she tried her best for a year, maybe she could manage it.

'Last time, I managed to survive until I was twenty-two by trying not to get under anyone's skin.'

So, if she did the same this time, it would work.

No, it had to work.

And if it was Esselred, not Agnes, and this place was filled with such good people… perhaps it was possible.

"I will try not to get under your skin. I'm sorry."

Navia bowed deeply, apologizing.

She avoided formal etiquette, which she could use as easily as breathing, and only bowed her head to avoid displeasing Lark.

'He dislikes formalities.'

He probably wouldn't like overly aristocratic behavior, well-composed smiles, or formal etiquette.

It would all make him look like a scheming, sinister person.

Lark scowled.

He didn't want to hear her apologies. The words grated on his ears.

"Hmph."

Navia stiffened at the short sigh while keeping her head bowed.

Lark's entire body revealed his dislike of her, making her fleeting hope of becoming friends with him seem futile.

Navia thought bitterly.

'It can't be helped.'

Considering the outrageous act she committed on their first day, threatening him that he would regret not accepting her, it was more surprising that he didn't hate her.

Still, Navia could define Lark as a good person.

He had saved her repeatedly and allowed her to stay here.

'Considering my entire life, this is almost saintly.'

Even the fact that he didn't tell her to leave right away was a great relief to Navia.

'If only I could meet Creed, that man, before I leave.'

Thud.

At the sound of something falling, Navia slowly lifted her head.

There was no one in front of her.

On the floor lay the paper knife.

Navia picked it up and muttered to herself.

"Should I go back to my room…?"

But she had used up all the magic power in the Black Moon, making the situation even more dangerous.

Navia locked the door again and hid in a corner.

'I'll just have to endure the day as planned.'

At least she was used to staying up all night.

'It's dangerous until dawn.'

She would think about how to prepare for such situations until morning.

Navia sat huddled, gripping the paper knife tightly, staring at the door.

Unaware that Lark, who had merely hidden himself, was watching her.