Repeat Vice – The Villainous Noble Doesn’t Want to Die, So He Swore to Not Die As One of The Four Heavenly Kings Volume 4 Chapter 1

01: Dungeon Strategy

After resolving the incident in Steria, I found myself traveling alongside the [Scarlet Wind]. The goal: to cure the illness afflicting Iz, the group’s sub-leader.

This was at the fervent request of Lilyca Skyfield, one of the story’s heroines. Building a debt of gratitude with her would undoubtedly serve as a strategic advantage for my survival in the days to come—that was my calculated judgment.

To treat Iz’s mana-draining disease, we needed the unique ability of a ghost-type monster: «Mana Absorption». To that end, I ventured into the dungeon known as the [Specter Cave], seeking to bind a ghost-type monster as a familiar.

The gloomy cavern passage stretched before us as Carlos and I pressed forward. I had left Lilyca and the rest of the [Scarlet Wind] outside the dungeon.

It’s not that I didn’t trust them. But, frankly, aside from Lilyca, they were dead weight. Bringing along the weak only slows progress.

To walk the path of the strong, one must be strong. The weak have no place on the road I tread.

The ghost-type monsters that haunt the [Specter Cave] are immune to physical attacks. To defeat them, you need magic or a weapon imbued with mana.

Not that it mattered much to Carlos or me.

“Hmm… as expected, my skills have dulled,”

Carlos muttered solemnly, gazing at the three ghosts he had just skewered with his rapier.

Around him floated countless ghosts, sliced to ribbons and left drifting in tatters.

The old man was muttering something. Could he really be saying this after displaying swordsmanship so swift that even my mana-enhanced vision struggled to follow?

“…Those words might sound like sarcasm to some,”

“No, no, not at all sarcastic… In my prime, I could have cut down twice as many with a single swing. I would have loved to show you, young master,”

“You just sliced every ghost that appeared with one swing. What are you even talking about?”

Before I could even make a move, the ghosts were reduced to dust the moment they appeared. Twice as many? He was already cutting down every single one.

That said, our goal wasn’t extermination—it was to bind a ghost as a familiar. I turned my gaze to the freshly shredded ghosts. But—

“…Gone, as expected.”

The ghosts Carlos had cut down dissolved into particles of pale blue light, leaving no trace behind. Even the ones skewered on his rapier met the same fate. Carlos stared at the empty tip of his blade with an unreadable expression.

“When you defeat a ghost-type monster, it leaves no corpse… Well, that’s only natural,”

“Without a corpse, «Shadow Eater» is useless… Things aren’t going so smoothly, are they? Carlos, aren’t you cutting them too finely? That might be speeding up their dissipation.”

“Well, I did consider that possibility and made sure to pierce the vitals of three of them to preserve them, but…”

“…”

The skewered ghosts dissipated almost simultaneously with the shredded ones. I knew it already. This was just me venting frustration over things not going as planned.

As I mulled about it, I took a step deeper. No use of getting irritated.

“Let’s move deeper. A stronger specimen… perhaps a floor boss might leave a corpse.”

“As you command.”

With Carlos in tow, I ventured further into the dungeon. We continued hunting ghosts, slaying a couple of floor bosses along the way, but as expected, no corpses remained.

Finally, we reached the chamber of the dungeon’s deepest guardian. Pushing open the massive, out-of-place door, we stepped into an open space.

There, standing as if awaiting us, was a golden skull wreathed in pale blue flames.

The oppressive aura it exuded was on a different level from the ghosts we’d encountered thus far. And no wonder—it was the dungeon’s protector, a Guardian. The Guardian of the [Specter Cave]—Ignis Coron, the Duke of Ghostfire.

Guardians, regardless of a dungeon’s difficulty, are universally formidable. Their power is said to rival even that of a Dragon King. But that wasn’t the issue here.

“Is that a ghost-type? What do you think, Carlos?”

“It has a physical form. The flames might be the ghost-type entity… but if the skull itself is the main body…”

“…Then it’s an undead-type. Well, we’ll know once we kill it. Stand back, Carlos.”

“Young master, allow me to take the front—”

“No need.”

I stopped Carlos as he drew his rapier and stepped forward. This was a Guardian. Even for Carlos, it was not an opponent to underestimate.

“Since we entered this dungeon, you’ve been the only one fighting. At this rate, I’ll be the one getting rusty.”

“But, young master…”

“It won’t take long. It’s just a Guardian. Strong as it may be, it’s only on par with a Dragon King.”

As I spoke, I unleashed my magic. In an instant, a barrage of dark magic engulfed Ignis Coron.

***

At the entrance to the [Specter Cave], the members of the [Scarlet Wind] stood ready, armed with magical weapons. With Iz’s treatment on the line, they were brimming with determination, fully prepared for battle. Yet now, they stood frozen, their expressions a mix of frustration and resignation.

“Stay there and don’t get in the way,” Rofus had declared bluntly. They had come ready to fight tooth and nail for Iz’s cure, only to be sidelined. It was no wonder the [Scarlet Wind] members stood about, looking dejected.

“So, are we really that much of a burden?” Kei asked lazily, resting his spear on his shoulder.

“…To someone like Rofus-san, maybe,” Dan replied, his face serious.

“Well, the three of us didn’t exactly shine last time. Pretty pathetic for grown adults,” Hawk said, adjusting his round sunglasses with a flick.

They had faced the Sword Saint Eric and the Bloodstained Hat in rapid succession—both far out of their league. Even as a trio, they hadn’t landed a single blow and were utterly defeated.

Sure, their opponents had been exceptionally formidable. But the ones who had carried the fight were Rofus, Valm, and Lilyca—three children, the eldest barely twelve. The fact that three grown men had dragged them down was, frankly, humiliating.

“And then there’s Sigil…” Hawk muttered, his voice dripping with exasperation.

The [Scarlet Wind]’s leader was, of all things, languishing in a dungeon cell. The three men’s gazes turned to Sigil, who awkwardly averted his eyes.

“Ugh… Yeah, that was my bad. I’m the idiot who charged in alone and got caught,” Sigil admitted.

“Damn right,” Dan said.

“Reflect on it,” Kei added.

Sigil shrank under their words. Meanwhile, Lilyca, ignoring the four men’s exchange, kicked at the ground with a scowl.

“…Tch, what’s his deal? He could’ve at least taken me along,” she muttered, sulking after being left behind by Rofus.

Elma sidled up to her. “Wow, you’re really pissed. Trouble in paradise already?”

“No way! We’re totally lovey-dovey,” Lilyca shot back, turning her face away with a huff.

“…You sure you’re okay leaving Iz-nee alone?” Lilyca asked.

“She says she’s feeling fine. I wanted to stay with her, but she kicked me out, saying not to treat her like an invalid,” Elma replied.

“But Iz-nee is sick,” Lilyca pointed out.

“Seriously,” Elma agreed.

The two burst into laughter. After their giggles subsided, Elma leaned in, lowering her voice.

“So, what’s the real deal with you and Rofus-san? The whole ‘lovers’ thing is fake, right?”

“…That obvious?” Lilyca replied, tilting her head.

“Crystal clear. Iz is suspicious too, by the way. The guys seem fooled, though,” Elma said, casting a weary glance at the four men.

Lilyca sighed. “Guess I can’t pull one over on you two.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender. Elma pressed further. “So, what’s the story? Can’t tell me?”

“…Sorry,” Lilyca said, shrugging.

“Fair enough. You don’t seem like you’re being coerced, so I guess it’s fine,” Elma said breezily, surprising Lilyca, who had expected more probing.

“You’re not gonna stop me?” Lilyca asked, blinking.

“Stop you? Why? If you’re having fun, that’s good enough for me,” Elma said.

“Uh… really?” Lilyca stammered, caught off guard.

Without answering, Elma turned away. “Looks like we don’t need to prep for a fight. I’m heading back. Gotta check on Iz’s condition.”

Waving dismissively, Elma vanished via Ifrit’s Teleportation. Left alone, Lilyca gazed at the sky.

“Having fun… me?” she murmured.

Lilyca had fully expected Elma to try to stop her. In the previous world—before the reset—when she’d claimed to have fallen for Abel Carot, Elma had vehemently opposed it.

She’d assumed the same would happen this time, but instead, Elma had been supportive, saying it was fine as long as Lilyca seemed happy.

“Was I really that unhappy with Abel…?” Lilyca wondered, a bitter smile crossing her face.

She felt a pang of guilt toward Abel. In the previous world, after teaming up with him by chance, Lilyca had developed feelings—or so it seemed—and joined his party.

It was, in a sense, a calculated move. Abel had gained fame for his role in defeating Strarf, one of the Four Beasts terrorizing the kingdom. The [Scarlet Wind], having fought alongside him, naturally drew attention as well.

But that attention wasn’t always positive. Their airship—a rare, perhaps unique marvel—caught the eye of the kingdom’s powerbrokers, who saw its strategic value. Everyone wanted it.

After their alliance with Abel, the [Scarlet Wind] faced a barrage of approaches from nobles and influential figures, ranging from sweet offers to thinly veiled threats.

The [Scarlet Wind] were, after all, mere sky pirates—outlaws with no backing. If the world kept targeting them, their blades would eventually find their mark. Fearing this, Lilyca resolved to get close to Abel.

Or rather, to the royal princess in his party—to secure the protection of the royal family.

If she could form a deep bond with Abel, the [Scarlet Wind] would become an officially recognized group under royal patronage. So Lilyca devoted herself to Abel.

She openly showed affection, got along with the other female party members, and in battle, used her wind magic and scouting skills to contribute subtly but effectively. When needed, she called on the [Scarlet Wind] for support, even using the airship to ferry Abel’s party to their destinations.

In the end, her plan worked. The [Scarlet Wind] gained royal recognition, and the nobles and powerbrokers could no longer touch them.

But Lilyca’s approach to Abel was purely calculated—no love, no genuine affection. Every kind gesture, every smile, was an act. Bonds may have formed over time, but at its core, it was all a lie.

Elma had likely seen through it.

That’s why she’d so fiercely opposed Lilyca joining Abel’s party.

“Now that I think about it… maybe Abel sensed it too,”

Abel had treated her like a little sister. No matter how much she flirted or initiated physical contact, he never reciprocated romantically.

Lilyca didn’t regret her actions. But she couldn’t help wondering if there might have been another path—one where she could have been genuine teammates with Abel’s group, without all the deception.

The thought brought a faint, wistful sigh. Then, she tilted her head. “Oh?”

This time, Elma hadn’t stopped her. Because Lilyca seemed to be enjoying herself. In other words, when she was with Rofus, she appeared genuinely happy.

“Enjoying myself, huh? No way I’m actually… falling for Rou-kun, right?”

Lilyca’s mind flashed to the moment she’d jumped off the Gilan estate. She’d done it knowing Rofus would follow, creating a chance for them to be alone.

As expected, Rofus had leapt after her. Unlike the coldness of the previous world, he’d shown a surprising sincerity and kindness—a side of him she hadn’t anticipated.

When she’d clung to him in midair, the way he’d gently held her close had left an unexpectedly vivid impression.

His usual brash demeanor contrasted sharply with that fleeting moment of instinctive gentleness. Lilyca shook her head. To think such a small gesture could sway her heart? No way.

That’d be way too easy. She was overthinking it, she told herself firmly.

***

About half an hour after Rofus and Carlos entered the dungeon, the entrance to the [Specter Cave] began to glow with a pale blue light.

This glow signified that the Guardian at the dungeon’s core had been defeated, marking its complete conquest.

“What? Complete conquest?! It’s only been half an hour!” Sigil exclaimed in shock.

Rofus’s goal was to bind a ghost-type monster to use its «Mana Absorption»^[a] skill. Sigil and the others had assumed he’d be spending considerable time hunting ghosts, but to conquer the entire dungeon? That was another matter entirely.

The Guardian at the dungeon’s heart was on a different level from floor bosses. As the name implied, it was the dungeon’s protector, a being of immense power, even in low-difficulty dungeons.

Renowned treasure hunters and adventurers would form raid parties, study the Guardian’s weaknesses, and prepare meticulously—yet even then, success was a coin toss.

Defeating a Guardian was a monumental feat. And Rofus had accomplished it with just Carlos, in a mere half hour.

Sigil and the others knew Rofus was strong, but this was beyond anything they’d imagined.

As an aside, a fully conquered dungeon ceases to function. The [Specter Cave], now defeated, was no longer a dungeon—just a cave.

A deactivated dungeon never regenerates. However, in time—anywhere from one to five years—a new dungeon may emerge in its place. The [Specter Cave] was gone, but a new dungeon would likely appear here eventually.

The mechanics behind this phenomenon remain a mystery, accepted by people as simply the way of the world.

Soon, Rofus and Carlos emerged from the glowing entrance. As they did, the pale blue light faded, signaling the dungeon’s collapse reaction. The [Specter Cave] had officially lost its power.

Neither Rofus nor Carlos bore a single scratch or speck of dirt, despite having just conquered a dungeon. Rofus shot a sharp glare at Sigil before tossing something at his feet.

“A souvenir. Take it,” he said curtly.

“Souvenir…?” Sigil mumbled, confused.

Rofus’s tone carried an edge of displeasure. Sigil picked up the object—a golden skull.

“Whoa?!” he yelped.

Its eye sockets flickered with pale blue flames, like ghostly pupils. Startled, Sigil tossed it away, only for Hawk to dive and catch it.

“Careful, you idiot!” Hawk snapped.

The golden skull was none other than the head of Ignis Coron, the Duke of Ghostfire, the Guardian of the [Specter Cave].

A Guardian’s drop item was extraordinarily rare and valuable—worth enough to buy a mansion in a city’s prime district.

Hawk was livid that Sigil had thrown it.

“You moron! Do you have any idea how valuable this is?!”

“B-But…!” Sigil stammered.

“No buts, you dolt!” Hawk roared.

Intimidated by Hawk’s uncharacteristic fury, Sigil faltered. Meanwhile, Lilyca approached Rofus cautiously, noting his sour mood.

“Welcome back… So, how’d it go?” she asked softly.

Rofus shook his head. “To cut to the chase: I couldn’t bind a ghost-type monster as a familiar.”

“Oh… I see,” Lilyca said, her expression clouding.

Rofus shrugged with a sigh. “…It was a long shot. Ghost-type monsters dissolve without leaving a corpse when killed. Without a corpse, [Shadow Eater] is useless.”

He glared at his shadow, barking, “Come out.” Black flames erupted from it, coalescing into a massive, sinister skeletal frame crowned with a dark skull engorged by Rofus’s mana. It was Ignis Coron, the Guardian he’d defeated.

“What the…!” Kei gasped.

“…The Guardian!” Dan muttered, awestruck.

Rofus gestured at the skull. “I thought a Guardian might be different, but no luck. I assumed it was a ghost-type, but it’s classified as undead. I checked—it can’t use «Mana Absorption».”

“Yeah, ghost-types do vanish when defeated…” Lilyca agreed.

“If only there were a ghost with a physical body,” Rofus mused.

Both furrowed their brows, deep in thought.

“A ghost with a physical body…?” Lilyca repeated, then gasped. “Ah!”

Her sudden exclamation drew everyone’s attention.

“Got an idea?” Rofus asked.

Under the group’s scrutiny, Lilyca hesitated, her eyes darting. Then, spreading her arms, she flashed Rofus a bright smile.

“…What’s that look?” he asked warily.

“A welcome-back hug! That’s what lovers do, right?”

“Huh?”

Rofus shot her a cold stare, clearly unimpressed. Undeterred, Lilyca threw her arms around him.

The group let out a collective “Ooh!” Carlos’s eyes widened slightly, watching Rofus’s reaction.

“Hey, what’re you—” Rofus began, his voice rising in irritation.

Lilyca patted his back soothingly. “There, there, calm down. I have to get this close so the others don’t overhear,” she whispered.

Rofus froze, then sighed, looking down at her. “How long are you gonna keep up this charade? I’m getting tired of it.”

“What, you saying you want to stop pretending and be real lovers?” she teased.

“Oh, you think so?” he retorted, his gaze icy.

Lilyca laughed nervously. “Kidding, kidding!” Her expression turned serious. “The Sky City, Cielparc,” she whispered.

Rofus’s eyes widened. “Ah… right.”

“Right? Though I guess it’s not exactly memorable for you, Rou-kun,” she said.

The Sky City, Cielparc—an ancient ruin of a long-lost civilization, floating high in the heavens. In Rofus’s so-called “story,” it was the setting of the first chapter, home to Despia, the colossal griffin of the Four Beasts.

In the first loop of the world, Abel’s party and the [Scarlet Wind] had joined forces, engaging Despia in an aerial battle aboard their airship. It was the pivotal moment when Lilyca Skyfield became one of Abel’s companions.

Cielparc was also home to unique ghosts. The city’s high mana density had caused some ghosts’ mana to crystallize, granting them physical forms.

These corporeal ghosts were far stronger than typical ghosts but had a weakness: their physical bodies could be harmed by physical attacks.

And when defeated, they left behind a tangible corpse. Rofus nodded, recalling this.

“If it’s those ghosts…” he said.

“Our next destination’s set,” Lilyca said with a grin, stepping back.

“Though, Cielparc’s always moving, so we’ll need to find it first,” she added, her tone thoughtful. She winked at Rofus. “But me knowing about this would seem weird, right? I’ll handle it with the others. I’ll say you told me about it in a bedtime story or something.”

“Stop that,” Rofus snapped.

“Hmm, what to do~?” Lilyca teased, dodging his attempt to grab her with a light laugh.

To the men watching, their banter looked like a playful “catch me if you can” flirtation.

“Man, they went from hugging to full-on flirting in no time,” Kei remarked, feeling like he’d swallowed a spoonful of sugar.

Dan smiled warmly at his surrogate little sister’s antics.

“How far do you think they’ve gone?” Sigil asked, grinning mischievously.

“She’s only twelve, man… Probably just kissing, right?” Hawk replied, adjusting his sunglasses with a serious expression.

Carlos, meanwhile, covered his eyes and tilted his head skyward. “Hmm… which is it?” he muttered.

A suspicion had been growing in Carlos’s mind—that Rofus and Lilyca’s “romance” was an act, driven by some ulterior motive. Rofus’s reactions had fueled his confidence in this theory.

But now, that confidence was wavering.

“Which is it…?” Carlos murmured again, unanswered.

***

With that commotion, the ghost hunt came to a close. The [Scarlet Wind]’s immediate goal was to locate the Sky City, Cielparc, where corporeal ghosts roamed.

Finding a city adrift in the vast sky was no small feat. Though Cielparc was massive—akin to an entire floating city—it was a mere speck in the boundless heavens. Moreover, it was shrouded in thunderclouds, as if concealing itself from the world.

The [Scarlet Wind] would spend their days searching for a massive black cloud in the endless sky.

Rofus suggested using the golden skull—the Guardian’s drop item—as funding for their journey. But the [Scarlet Wind] balked, insisting on returning it or refusing outright, leading to a heated stalemate.

This quest had begun to cure Iz’s illness. Rofus was merely lending a hand. Relying on him for the cure and funding was too much for the [Scarlet Wind]’s pride to bear.

After much back-and-forth, they agreed that any magical items or riches the [Scarlet Wind] acquired during their search for Cielparc would be handed over to Rofus.

“Honestly… for thieves, you’re awfully lacking in greed. Or maybe just weirdly honorable,” Rofus said, exasperated.

“Haha! Even the [Scarlet Wind] has its pride,” Lilyca replied with a laugh.

“Pride beyond your station will be your downfall. If you’re commoners, just take the noble’s handout and be grateful,” Rofus shot back.

“We’re treasure hunters before we’re commoners. Just like you have your noble pride, Lo-kun, the [Scarlet Wind] has things we won’t compromise on,” Lilyca said, grinning.

Rofus shrugged. “Is that so?”

“Well, we’re heading out soon,” Lilyca said.

“Don’t forget the scheduled check-ins,” Rofus reminded her.

“Got it! Though, who knows if it’ll be on schedule? The next time we’re back here, it’ll be with intel on Cielparc,” she said, her eyes blazing with determination as she looked to the sky.

Iz’s illness was progressing even now. There was no time to waste. With a potential cure in sight, her motivation was at its peak.

But Rofus sensed a dangerous edge in her fervor. Focusing too much on one goal could narrow her vision, blinding her to her surroundings. Without a word, he stepped closer, subtly aligning his shadow with hers.

In that moment, a familiar slipped silently from his shadow to hers, its movement so faint even Lilyca couldn’t detect it. This allowed Rofus to monitor her actions through the familiar—a watchdog, essentially.

As long as the promise to cure Iz held, Lilyca was unlikely to betray him. But nothing in this world was certain. Rofus had endured countless nightmares of being slaughtered by Abel’s faction, Lilyca included. Trusting her completely was out of the question.

“…”

Yet, for a moment, Rofus’s mind drifted to the time Lilyca had shielded him from the Bloodstained Hat’s blade with her own body. And before that, in the Tomb of the First, she’d saved him from the mysterious Alraune summoned by the First’s familiar.

Lilyca had saved Rofus’s life twice. As much as it galled him to admit, that was an undeniable fact. Yes, she had killed him countless times in past iterations, but he hadn’t forgotten that she had saved him this time around.

“Hm? What’s up, Lo-kun?” Lilyca asked, tilting her head curiously as she noticed his intense stare.

Rofus lowered his eyes with a sigh. “…Nothing.”

In that moment, he recalled the familiar he had slipped into Lilyca’s shadow, a precaution born of distrust. But given that she had saved his life twice… perhaps, just for that, he could afford to trust her a little.

That thought crept into his mind, unbidden. Trust? How utterly unlike him. Rofus inwardly cursed his own sentimentality, averting his gaze with an uncomfortable scowl.

“…Be careful out there,” he muttered.

“…Eh?” Lilyca’s eyes widened in surprise at the rare show of concern.

“W-What’s with you, Rofus-kun? We’re alone right now, so you don’t have to keep up the lovers’ act… Uh, should I hug you anyway, just in case?” she stammered, flustered, spreading her arms slightly with a shy smile.

Rofus fixed her with an icy, merciless glare. “Get going already.”

“Ehh? So cold! You were being all boyfriend-y just a second ago!” Lilyca whined, tugging at his sleeve playfully.

As they bantered, Lilyca recalled Elma’s words: You look like you’re having fun with Rofus. Come to think of it, this dynamic with him… it wasn’t half bad.

“Maybe we’re more compatible than I thought,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“Huh?” Rofus shot her a sour look but indulged her conversation despite his grumpy expression.

Their back-and-forth continued a little longer, until the airship was ready to depart.

Rofus chose not to leave the familiar in Lilyca’s shadow—a decision born of the trust forged through their time together. It was a bond that hadn’t existed in the previous world, a flicker of sentiment toward Lilyca.

This shift might, perhaps, be a positive change for Rofus. But—

Later, he would come to bitterly regret this seemingly trivial choice.

***

Some time after the [Scarlet Wind] set out to search for the Sky City, a visitor arrived at the Lightless family’s secondary estate, where Rofus resided.

It was a pair of women. One was Yurika, the Dark Knight. The other was a petite girl clad in white clerical robes, her face concealed by a plain veil.

Yurika had brought the girl to introduce her to Rofus. Receiving them in the parlor, Rofus frowned at the unexpected intrusion.

No prior notice had been given. Normally, Rofus wouldn’t deign to entertain unannounced visitors, but since it was Yurika who brought her, he reluctantly agreed to meet them, albeit begrudgingly.

Yet even face-to-face, the veiled girl neither introduced herself nor revealed her face, merely standing at Yurika’s side. Rofus, hardly in a generous mood, maintained a perpetually sour expression.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Yurika knelt before Rofus, who lounged on a sofa with his cheek propped on his hand.

“Young Master, I am deeply grateful for your willingness to receive us despite our sudden visit. Please forgive the lack of prior notice,” she said, bowing her head.

Rofus sighed. “It’s you, so I won’t turn you away. But I’d like to hear a name already.”

His sharp gaze shifted to the white-robed girl. Yurika hurriedly raised her face.

“Young Master, if I may… could you overlook that? This person has reasons for concealing their identity—”

The girl raised a hand, cutting Yurika off. “It’s alright, Yurika-sama.”

She turned her pale, almost translucent eyes toward Rofus through the veil, then removed it. Her skin was as flawless as porcelain, her long platinum-blonde hair cascading down. Rofus’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Thank you for receiving us on such short notice, Rofus Ray Lightless-sama. My apologies for the delayed introduction. I am Fran, appointed as the Saintess of the Six Gods Church. I’ve come today to treat your left eye and left arm,” she said with a gentle smile, bowing slightly.

Saintess Fran—one of the key companions of the story’s protagonist, Abel.

***

The sudden arrival of the Saintess, claiming she had come to treat Rofus’s injuries, was brought by none other than Yurika, the Dark Knight. Rofus’s mind flashed back to an earlier moment in Roguebelt, when Yurika had treated him.

After tending to his left eye and arm, Yurika had said: I’ll arrange for a healer more skilled than myself to be sent soon.

Rofus had assumed she meant someone under the Dark Knights’ leader, Alba, or perhaps the family head, Rudens. Apparently, he’d been mistaken.

Though “soon” had stretched into months, the delay made sense if the healer in question was the Church’s symbolic Saintess. Rofus shot Yurika a pointed look.

“…Yurika. You’re one of the Church’s agents, aren’t you?”

Yurika flinched at his words. Fran stepped forward, as if to shield her.

“Please don’t blame her. Yurika-sama genuinely cares for your well-being,” Fran said, bowing in Yurika’s stead.

Rofus snorted and looked away. He’d already pieced it together the moment Yurika brought the Saintess to treat him.

For her to do so, knowing it would expose her ties to the Church, spoke volumes.

Still, it made sense to Rofus. If Yurika was affiliated with the Church, it explained her exceptional skill with healing magic—though even within the Church, few could match her prowess. He exhaled lightly, glancing at her.

“You said you’d bring a healer more skilled than yourself, but I didn’t expect the Saintess herself.”

Fran gave a small laugh. “Yurika-sama’s healing magic is unmatched even within the Church. I can’t hold a candle to her.”

“The symbol of the Six Gods Church, saying such things?” Rofus retorted.

Rumors painted the Church’s upper echelons as a den of greed and ambition. Rofus, who held no fondness for the Church’s structure, didn’t mean it as a compliment.

His words carried a hint of sarcasm, but Fran, catching it, gave a wry smile. “As you know, the title of Saintess is little more than a decorative label the Church flaunts. I was chosen merely because I can wield some unique holy magic. If healing magic alone determined the Saintess, Yurika-sama would hold the title.”

“…Is a Saintess supposed to say such things?” Rofus asked.

“No, she isn’t. So please, keep this between us,” Fran replied with a mischievous smile.

Rofus shrugged, recalling the story. Right, Fran was like this. In the narrative, she was an unconventional Saintess—down-to-earth, or perhaps worldly. Unbound by Church doctrine, she wielded holy magic befitting her title. That was Rofus’s impression of her.

Fran was also one of Abel’s companions, meaning she was among those who had killed Rofus during the Four Heavenly Kings battle. Yet, despite her sudden appearance, Rofus felt no hatred toward her. Perhaps because, as a pure healer, she hadn’t directly participated in his death.

He vaguely recalled his frustration at her instantly healing Abel’s party during their battles, but that was the extent of it. That he could converse so normally with a former enemy was likely due to this, Rofus concluded.

Fran smiled, her gaze settling on Rofus’s left eye—its jade-green pupil. “Shall we begin the treatment? I’m here in secret, so I can’t stay long.”

“What? You snuck out of the capital and came all the way to Lightless territory? For a Saintess, that’s bold.”

“Yes. That’s why preparations took so long. Yurika-sama consulted me some time ago, but… I’m sorry for the delay,” Fran said, bowing.

Rofus waved her off. “No need to apologize. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting much… But I see. If you’re acting without the Church’s approval, I owe them nothing.”

Rofus, who despised the Church, smirked at the thought of avoiding their influence. Fran returned a sly grin. “By all means, feel indebted to me and Yurika-sama, not the Church.”

Yurika watched nervously as Fran spoke so brazenly, but Rofus, far from offended, seemed amused. “Well said. Start the treatment. If you can fully heal me, I’ll reward you handsomely.”

“Leave it to me. As the Saintess, I promise the finest treatment,” Fran declared.

A radiant magic circle of holy light unfurled behind her. Thus began the Saintess’s attempt to heal Rofus’s left eye and arm.

***

The holy magic circle dissipated into mist. Fran’s face was ashen, her head bowed in defeat. Yurika, who had assisted with the treatment, looked equally crestfallen, her gaze fixed on the floor. The atmosphere was funereal.

“Well… don’t take it too hard,” Rofus said.

“To boast of the finest treatment as a Saintess, only to fail so miserably…” Fran mumbled, her dejection so profound that Rofus, the patient, felt compelled to console her.

In short, even the Saintess’s power couldn’t heal Rofus’s left eye and arm. Fran was a master of holy magic in all its forms. Though her healing magic was slightly inferior to Yurika’s, her specialties were curse-breaking and purificationರ

The alien mana clinging to Rofus’s left eye and arm, which obstructed healing magic, couldn’t be purged. Yurika’s spell had sealed it, preventing direct harm for now, but what would happen if that seal broke?

Fran couldn’t say for certain, but it wouldn’t be good.

She fixed Rofus with a serious gaze. “The one who inflicted this wound was a whale-like monster, correct?”

Rofus nodded, recalling Yurika’s explanation. Fran continued, her tone grave. “This curse-like alien mana in your left eye and arm—I tried, but I couldn’t dispel it. Worse, tampering with it risks alerting the source to our location or intentions.”

“The source…?” Rofus asked.

“Didn’t Yurika-sama tell you? The one who cursed you. It could be the whale monster itself, or someone—or something—behind it.”

Yurika had mentioned it before: the monster was godlike, immortal, or perhaps a familiar with a true master elsewhere.

Either way, someone or something was cursing Rofus. The wound from the Demon Whale was the curse’s origin. That the curse persisted despite the beast’s death suggested a greater force at play.

“Yurika-sama’s seal is flawless, but the curse’s power is immense, and over time, the seal’s structure frays. With both of us reinforcing and layering additional seals today, it should hold for a year.”

“Fraying? So I’ll need it resealed every year?” Rofus asked, visibly annoyed.

Fran shook her head. “A year is an estimate. It needs checking at least monthly. I can’t easily leave the capital, so Yurika-sama will handle follow-ups.”

Rofus’s curiosity piqued. “Out of curiosity, what happens if the seal breaks and the curse is unleashed?”

Fran paused, then answered somberly. “…You could be consumed by the curse and die—”

She hesitated, lowering her eyes. “Or your body might be overtaken by it.”

“Death or possession, huh? That’s a cheerful outcome,” Rofus said with a dry laugh.

“It’s no laughing matter… but you’re remarkably bold,” Fran muttered, half-exasperated.

“Until next year, then. If you come to the capital, we won’t need to schedule a year out.”

“As a Saintess might find it hard to believe, I’m busy too. I can’t just leave my territory whenever.”

“Positions come with burdens, don’t they? You’re so young, yet you carry so much,” Fran remarked.

Despite her petite frame and youthful appearance—close to Rofus’s twelve years—she was already an adult. Rofus studied her. “I owe you. If you need anything, just—”

He stopped mid-sentence, struck by déjà vu. Had this happened before? This was his first meeting with Fran, yet she felt oddly familiar. A strange sensation.

In his countless dreams of being killed, Fran was among those who had slain him. Though she hadn’t directly struck him, it was odd that he felt no aversion or hatred toward her.

She was easy to talk to, almost… likable. Noticing his gaze, Fran tilted her head. “Something wrong?”

“No… Have we met before?” Rofus asked.

Fran covered her mouth, surprised. A brief silence followed, then she smiled. “Oh dear. Are you trying to flirt with me, Rofus-sama?”

“—!? No, that’s not what I meant!” Rofus protested.

Fran theatrically looked skyward. “‘We were destined in a past life’—the classic nobleman’s line to woo a lady. I’m flattered by such a passionate approach, especially from the heir of the renowned Lightless Marquisate.”

“It’s a misunderstanding—!” Rofus tried to clarify, but noticed her suppressed laughter. She was teasing him.

“Fran… you’re mocking me,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Hehe, you were so adamant in denying it, I couldn’t resist,” she giggled.

“You…” Rofus growled.

Fran cleared her throat, composing herself. “My apologies. But you caught me off guard with that odd question. I was startled.”

“My bad,” Rofus said, shrugging.

Yurika, watching the exchange, looked uneasy. Fran noticed. “Yurika-sama, is something wrong?”

“Oh… no,” Yurika stammered, hesitant to interrupt.

“If something’s on your mind, speak. You’re permitted,” Rofus said.

“Thank you. Um… did Fran-sama know Rofus-sama previously?” Yurika asked.

“No,” Fran replied firmly. “Today is our first meeting. No childhood promises or dramatic backstories, so rest assured.”

“I see,” Yurika said, visibly relieved.

Rofus frowned. Why was she relieved? Fran coughed lightly, turning to Rofus. “To reiterate—we’ll likely have a long relationship until this curse is lifted. If I need help, I’ll call on you. I look forward to working together.”

“Likewise. Reach out anytime,” Rofus said, offering a faint smile.

With brief farewells, Fran left the estate with Yurika. Rofus’s left eye remained blind, his arm still missing, but the visit yielded crucial insights: the curse’s immense power and the need for regular resealing.

Without this knowledge, the curse could have led to disaster. Rofus, unable to sense the alien mana himself, wouldn’t have noticed the seal fraying.

“Still no cure, huh? Maybe I’ll get a prosthetic arm,” he muttered, staring at his absent limb in the now-empty parlor.

A while later Carlos entered.

“The guests have left, I presume. I never expected the Six Gods Church’s Saintess… So, what of Yurika’s situation?”

“Her ties to the Church, you mean,” Rofus said.

He wasn’t surprised Carlos knew the conversation’s details—likely eavesdropping from the next room. Always prepared for emergencies, that was part of Carlos’s role as Rofus’s butler and bodyguard.

“Nothing to do about it. Yurika’s a Dark Knight. Her background’s been vetted. Father likely knows already.”

Rofus smirked, an idea forming. “But using this to force her resignation from the Dark Knights and make her my personal aide… that could work.”

With Yurika’s regular check-ups necessary, keeping her close would be convenient. Carlos tilted his head. “You seem quite taken with Yurika. Why so eager to keep her near? Something special about her?”

Rofus gazed at the ceiling.

“She’s beautiful… that black hair,”

Carlos’s face twitched.

“…Pardon?”

“What?”

“That’s it?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just… unexpected. I didn’t know you liked black hair,”

“Of course, I value her exceptional healing magic too. Holy magic users are rare in Lightless territory.”

Carlos eyed him.

“Just to clarify, are you planning to make Yurika your concubine?”

“Concubine…? A mistress, you mean? Not my intention… Why ask?” Rofus said, turning away irritably.

“Choosing a woman to keep close can be interpreted that way. Yurika might assume as much.”

“What? When I asked if she’d be my aide, she was eager… Was she thinking mistress?” Rofus asked, incredulous.

“With your status, taking a mistress wouldn’t raise eyebrows… but you’re a bit young for that,” Carlos said.

“I said that’s not my plan!” Rofus snapped.

“And your future wife might object,” Carlos added.

“Wife? How far ahead are you thinking?”

“Is it so far off? You could be engaged by adulthood, married upon academy graduation,” Carlos mused.

Rofus scowled.

“Who’re you imagining as my bride?”

“Whoever’s on your mind right now, I’d wager,” Carlos said slyly.

“Hah, ridiculous. Trying to trap me? Besides, I told Fol to become a noble. A commoner can’t do that in three years.”

“I see. So it’s Lady Farathiana you’re thinking of, not that sky pirate girl,” Carlos said, his face relaxing.

Rofus’s expression went blank.

“Your life’s short, old man. Want to end it here?”

Carlos paled at Rofus’s chilling tone.

“Young Master, it was a jo—”

A blast of dark magic obliterated where Carlos had stood, gouging the floor and kicking up dust. Rofus snorted, surveying the half-ruined parlor. Carlos was gone.

“Phew, I saw my life flash before my eyes,” Carlos said, unharmed, sweating behind Rofus.

Rofus glared.

“…I missed on purpose. There won’t be a next time.”

He stormed out, slamming the door. Alone, Carlos wiped his brow and exhaled. “That was no miss, Young Master…”

Staring at the cratered floor, he muttered, then pulled out a notebook and fountain pen. “Hmm. The sky pirate girl, Lilyca, was it? Lovers or not, they’re clearly close. He’s leaning toward Lady Faratiana for now, but I can’t let my guard down. And—Yurika…”

Carlos scribbled in the notebook.

“The Young Master showing interest in women is a first. She’s another one to watch. You’ve got obstacles, Lady Faratiana.”

Closing the notebook, he frowned thoughtfully. “A heroine always has rivals. But the Young Master in a love triangle… no, a quadrangle?”

The notebook’s cover read, in bold letters.

Sequel Notes.

Nonfiction Romance Novel: The Dark Noble and the Sailor Girl

Author: Carlos Idea Coldvark

Sold discreetly in Lightless territory.