Something was wrong.
I was certain someone had been standing right here only seconds ago, yet I couldn't for the life of me recall who it was.
"Kiska? What’s wrong? You’re just staring into space."
I spun around. Namia was standing there, her expression clouded with worry.
"Wait... was there someone else here just now?"
I searched her face, trying to identify the source of the jarring dissonance in my mind.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, tilting her head.
Apparently, Namia didn't feel like anything was out of the ordinary at all.
"Hey, Kiska, are you okay? You look pale."
Namia took a step toward me, reaching out.
"Stay back!"
The shout tore from my throat before I could even think. Namia froze, her face falling into an expression of hurt and confusion.
"I... I'm sorry..." she murmured.
She apologized, but she clearly had no idea why I’d reacted so violently. To be honest, neither did I. I didn't understand why every fiber of my being was suddenly screaming at me to reject her.
Then, my eyes caught a glimpse of a piece of paper on the floor.
It was a handmade map. It appeared to show the way to Namia's home. From the handwriting, I could tell it was something I had drawn for someone else.
But I couldn't remember who that person was.
On the map, someone had scribbled six distinct instructions:
『Namia is a fake. Stay alert.』
『Protect High Priest Sierotia from the enemy.』
『Let Second Prince Diluecca die.』
『Members of Chaosism are lurking in the village.』
『Trust no one but yourself.』
『Do not approach Vampire Eudite.』
The first line hit me like a physical blow: Namia is a fake.
My first instinct was to laugh it off as an absurdity, yet for some reason, the words carried a weight of absolute conviction. The revulsion I’d felt toward her only moments ago—maybe this was the reason for it.
"Namia... are you a fake?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it. It was a terrible thing to say, but I couldn't keep the words down.
"Kiska? What is wrong with you? You've been acting so strange," she said, her voice dripping with concern. She was being so kind, so gentle. It felt impossible that this Namia could be anything other than my childhood friend.
"Sorry. I... I must be out of it."
Maybe I was running a fever. I told myself I should probably go lie down.
But then I saw it. A seventh sentence had been added at the very bottom of the page.
『Kiska, I love you.』
I stared at those last words.
I didn't know why, but tears began to blur my vision. It felt as though I had lost something—or someone—precious, and the memory of them had been forcibly stripped away.
"Namia. You really are a fake, aren't you?"
In that moment, I knew. Every word on that paper was the absolute truth.
"Kiska... what happened to you? You're really starting to scare me."
Even now, she tried to play the part. A cold irritation began to simmer in my chest. I couldn't stand it. I wouldn't let this thing stain Namia’s memory by wearing her skin a second longer.
"Stop lying! I know exactly what you are!" I snapped, my voice sharp and final.
"............"
The gentle, soft smile she had been wearing vanished. Her face became a mask of cold, hollow indifference.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha...! Well, this is a surprise. I thought I was playing the part of 'Namia' perfectly. How did you catch on?"
She broke into a chilling, distorted laugh.
As she did, the face I knew as Namia’s began to melt away. Her entire body stained a deep, oily black as her skin sloughed off in crumbling chunks. In her place stood a monster that had long since abandoned anything resembling humanity.
"Who the hell are you?"
"A Revenant. I suppose it’s easiest to understand if you think of me as an evil spirit possessing a corpse."
The line between the Demon Race and monsters was often thin, but those who possessed speech and intelligence were usually classified as the former. This thing was undoubtedly a member of the Demon Race.
"What were you planning to do, pretending to be her?"
"Does it really matter? More importantly, do you know the primary instinct of a Revenant?" She sneered, her voice a grating mockery of its former self.
"I can't say I do."
"We hate the living! We hate them so much we can't stand it! We want to kill and kill and kill until there's nothing left! And you know... the more we kill, the more delicious the pleasure becomes!"
She wore an expression of pure, manic ecstasy. There wasn't a single trace of Namia left in her.
"So the revenge you talked about... it was just an excuse to slaughter people?"
"Bingo! Give the man a prize."
She grinned at me, a wide, hideous expression.
"And of course, you're on the list too, Kiska."
A thick, black mist suddenly billowed from her body, swallowing the room. In an instant, I was blind.
Shit!
Moving on pure instinct, I threw myself toward where the Sword of Raging Flames lay, drawing it just in time to bring the blade up in a defensive guard.
A sharp clang of metal on metal echoed through the room.
"Oh? You actually blocked that?"
The Revenant stood there, having tried to plunge a kitchen knife into my chest.
"What are you trying to achieve?"
"Does it really matter?"
With those words, she vanished back into the gloom.
"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
Her laughter echoed from every corner of the room at once. I braced myself, sharpening my senses and tightening my grip on the hilt of my sword, waiting for the next strike.
But the attack never came.
Dozens of seconds later, the mist finally dissipated. The Revenant was gone. The front door stood wide open, swaying in the wind. She had fled into the village.
The immediate danger had passed, but I was left with a crushing sense of emptiness I couldn't explain.