IMDCA 10

Chapter 10

The Deadly Poison Behind the Holy Smile

“What—how on earth did this happen……!”

The morning shift of Zone 3, stepping over the broken iron door, froze like statues upon seeing Duke Kael and Saintess Sylvia standing there.

“Eek……! D-D-Duke! And Saintess, we greet you!”

Sylvia gave a benevolent smile to the people bowing their heads tremblingly, then turned her gaze to Kael.

“I fear this portrait’s unclean aura may harm you, Duke. It seems it must be burned immediately through the temple’s purification work, so I will have the Holy See collect it.”

Despite her calm and gentle tone, Sylvia’s insides were burning—she had to annihilate the curse formula she had created.

“There is no need for that.”

Kael cut off Sylvia’s words firmly and turned to stand before the Countess’s portrait.

“There are parts that seem too convenient to view as a simple curse rampage. I will personally interrogate the successor of Count Vladimir, the origin of this portrait, and uncover the truth, so the Holy See may return now.”

Sylvia’s heart plummeted for an instant, but she kept the curve on her lips perfectly intact as she replied.

“……Yes. If that is truly your will, Duke.”

At Kael’s nod, knights who had been waiting in the darkness appeared, took the portrait down from the stand, and placed it in a special storage case. But Sylvia had no intention of retreating like this.

“Your complexion does not look good. The cycle has not yet come around, but let me go up and assist with your purification.”

The Demon King’s fragment. Sylvia knew exactly the curse residing in Duke Kael’s heart.

She was the one who visited the Duke’s residence according to the purification cycle and performed the purification ritual.

On the surface, it would look like a miracle—sacred white light wrapping around Duke Kael’s body and quieting his pain—but in truth, it was nothing more than a narcotic painkiller, not a cure.

The Demon King’s fragment, raging with hunger, was being made to suck in the dark life forces Sylvia injected—a “fake purification.” If the purification cycle were delayed even slightly, it would cause withdrawal symptoms and inflict pain dozens of times worse than usual on Duke Kael. This was precisely the reason she could hold his leash and shake it.

“It is fine. Then please return safely.”

A polite but firm refusal. A minute crack appeared in Saintess Sylvia’s smile.

Kael gave a light nod and slowly drew a breath. A fragrance and taste that no one else could ever smell—only he, who bore the Demon King’s fragment, could detect it. The curse residue, with its malice-filled poison perfectly burned away and only the pure sweetness remaining, was floating through the room like mist.

‘I look forward to the time when I can properly savor it.’

Gazing with interest at the doorway through which René had slipped out, Kael subtly licked his red lips with the tip of his tongue.

Sylvia walked out of the iron door of Zone 3 wearing her perfect saintess smile. But the sound of her heels striking the dark corridor was, unlike her usual elegance, nervously stabbing and grinding into the floor.

‘How dare he—how dare he cast me aside like this? Me, the saintess of this Empire?’

Duke Kael’s indifferent gaze toward her and his black coat draped over René’s scrawny shoulders flickered before her eyes. There was no humiliation like this one.

And she simply could not believe that the curses she had layered in duplicate to siphon the life force of the Count’s children had been so futilely shattered.

“Johan, are you there?”

“Yes, Saintess.”

From the darkness, Sylvia’s escort priest approached soundlessly.

“The Argen Baron’s daughter, was it? Find out what corner of the world that family is stuck in, when she came to this place…… and whether that family happens to have any ability to wield magic.”

“I shall obey your command.”

“Shake it out thoroughly, not leaving a single speck of dust.”

Sylvia’s eyes, which had held a benevolent smile, now gleamed coldly with murderous intent.

Meanwhile, in the Zone 3 storage where Duke Kael and Sylvia had departed, Theodore remained. He was alone, tracing the alien traces in the room.

‘The highly toxic aura that burst out of the cursed object was perfectly purified. Not by the holy power of light, but… something more primal.’

Clatter—

That was when it happened. His foot, having changed direction, caught on the old claw hammer, and Theodore, lowering his gaze to the floor, frowned slightly. What he carefully picked up, kneeling on one knee, was a clump of hair that looked as though someone had grabbed and snapped it off.

‘Red……?’

A vivid, deep red hair. There was only one thing red hair symbolized in the Empire.

The “Valea” family, who had vanished after being discovered plotting to curse the imperial family.

Theodore, gazing blankly at the hair with a hardened face, quietly slipped the red strands deep into the inner pocket of his uniform.

The Bureau’s infirmary. René, still draped in Duke Kael’s large coat, was clutching her skirt hem and rolling her eyes this way and that.

“Duke, then I’ll return the coat…….”

“Wear it and go. Do you intend to walk the streets looking like that?”

She had planned to get her wound treated and quickly go home, but Duke Kael had already followed her to the infirmary and was standing before her.

“So. You pulled out the nail with that worn-out claw hammer?”

“I-it’s true, though?! My hem got caught on the nail, and as I was swinging it around like this—whoosh, whoosh—the nail just went—shloop!—and came out…….”

“Haa.”

As René flailed her arms in a pantomime of holding the claw hammer, Kael let out a hollow laugh and strode closer to her. As René flinched at the overwhelming difference in physique and tried to pull her body back, Kael’s large hand lifted the ends of her utterly ruined hair.

“And why is your hair like this too?”

“…I cut it myself.”

“Why?”

“Because my hair was too long.”

“It wasn’t gnawed by rats?”

At Duke Kael’s continued teasing, picking at her every word as if mocking her, René felt a sudden surge of anger.

“I cut it myself because I have no money. I’m barely scraping by on rent, so I need to cut down on dignity maintenance costs at least.”

At the sight of René answering with her lips pursed as if she would not give an inch, Kael burst into inward laughter.

Everyone feared him, even calling him a “monster,” yet this was the first time anyone had retorted to him with such a half-hearted excuse—this baron’s daughter.

But Kael did not press further. Whatever secret she was hiding, he had already learned the taste of the pure demonic energy she produced.

“You must be tired, so report to work in the afternoon tomorrow.”

“What? Yes! I will obey your command, Duke!”

Leaving behind René, who answered brightly with sparkling eyes in an instant, Kael added a remark as he left the infirmary.

“And come up to the Director’s Office as soon as you arrive at work. Alone.”

“…What?”

As if he could see the expression on René’s face, which was about to crumple into tears, Kael headed to his office wearing a peculiar smile.

The top floor of the Bureau, the Director’s Office, perfectly soundproofed and surrounded by physical barriers.

Before the luxurious mahogany desk lay the special storage case containing the A-grade cursed object “The Countess’s Melancholy Portrait,” which had been retrieved from Zone 3 just moments ago.

Kael, standing leaning obliquely against the desk with the top buttons of his shirt roughly undone, reached his hand toward the storage case.

“Fuu—.”

As he exhaled shallowly and opened the lid of the storage case, the suppressed curse residue slipped out like a thread of a snake. Kael closed his eyes gently and inhaled the residue deeply.

‘…Sweet, as expected.’

The Demon King’s fragment, flowing through his veins and gnawing at his life force. Instead of extending his life by suppressing the Demon King’s curse with other curses, the extreme pain that accompanied swallowing a curse was something Kael had to endure alone.

The rougher and more vicious the vengeful spirit’s curse, the more it could suppress the Demon King’s curse—but even the coldly rational Kael could not easily adapt to pain that threatened to make him lose consciousness.

An exquisite sweetness, as if he were being rewarded for all the pain he had suppressed until now. That taste now bestowed upon him such a fierce ecstasy that he could never return to the way things were before.

“René.”

The name of the low-ranking clerk rolled softly from between Kael’s lips. The Demon King’s fragment, coiled in the center of his heart, seemed to writhe, demanding more sweetness.

An unidentified ability that precisely pierced through and dismantled grotesque and vicious curses. And a low-ranking clerk who, despite possessing such tremendous ability, was busy pouring out pathetic excuses and running away.

“It really is amusing.”

Kael muttered low as he closed the lid of the storage case. Because the Demon King’s fragment had made him sensitive to the extreme, the breath or presence of others had always been uncomfortable. But the curse residue refined by this low-ranking clerk stimulated a fierce possessiveness toward another person.

Whatever secret she was hiding, it did not matter. He would simply embrace that secret as well.

Kael’s large, firm hand grasped the empty air.

René Argen. He would make her his own, without fail.