Grom’s shoulders jolted at my murmur. He couldn’t hide his agitation.
"Surely, that is not..." Grom groaned.
"I want to resurrect her," I declared.
I had finally voiced the thoughts I’d kept hidden for so long. In an instant, my true feelings burst forth like water through a breached dam.
"I know she shouldn't be brought back. We're already mired in countless complications as it is. Yet, there are attachments I simply cannot cast aside."
"My Lord Demon King..." Grom murmured, sounding as if he were in physical pain.
My missing eye throbbed, but I ignored the phantom ache and continued to weave my words.
"This isn't the Demon King's wish. This is the desire of the Sage, Dwight Harvelt. The Man Betrayed by the World He Saved remains her servant even now."
It was a truth I had to face. Lingering traces of my humanity still dwelled in the depths of my heart. These were emotions I hadn't been able to purge, not even when I found my new purpose at the Valley of the Dead. This smoldering obsession was threatening to shove aside the Demon King's duty.
(I am pitiful. Truly, pitiful.)
I was caught between my own conflicting ideals. If this were a mere trifle, it would be one thing, but it wasn't. For someone in my position, such a conflict had the potential to sway the fate of the world. From the moment I became the Demon King, nothing about me remained a personal matter.
"When I was executed at the Valley of the Dead, I was consumed by my own powerlessness. If I had been able to exert my strength there, how would fate have changed? Somewhere deep down, I can’t stop wondering."
A thousand scenes flashed through my mind. The ache in my eye socket intensified until it became an unbearable agony. I made a conscious effort to relax my body. By forcing my thoughts to a halt, the pain receded just enough to be manageable. It was a minor reprieve, but a welcome one.
"I've always been indecisive. This habit of faltering at the most critical moments... it’s a flaw that hasn't changed since I was alive. I can’t seem to decide a thing unless someone gives me a push. Doesn’t that strike you as pathetic?"
"S-Surely not, such a thing is..."
Grom stammered. He searched desperately for the right words, but they seemed to elude him. I knew I was burdening him. I was simply dumping my messy, unresolved emotions onto Grom's shoulders. I was taking my frustration out on him, secure in the knowledge that he would never voice a word of protest. It was a despicable way to act. The realization only plunged me deeper into self-loathing.
Just then, I sensed another presence behind Grom. I cut my internal monologue short and narrowed my eyes. A face peeked out from behind Grom’s massive frame.
It was Luciana, wearing a smirk that promised trouble. She glided forward on her wings with effortless grace, spinning in a dance-like motion as she sang out.
"I heard the Demon King-sama grumbling~!"
While she amused herself, someone else was approaching at a run from the distance. It was Henry, a bow slung across his back, sprinting through the sky as if he were on solid ground.
Henry lacked the flight ability. Looking closer at his feet, I saw that a force field was serving as his path. Judging by the signature of the magic power, Luciana was providing the support. It seemed the two of them had arrived together—a rare combination for those two.
Luciana strolled toward me, hands clasped behind her back. She let a heavy silence hang between us before narrowing her eyes and peering into my face.
"—That sounds like a fascinating conversation. Why not let us join in?"