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Chapter 202: The Narrow-Eyed Villain of the Demon Academy

“...”

Crete let out a small groan.

I moved towards him and helped him up.

“Are you alright?”

*Huff…*

*Huff…*

Crete couldn’t answer my question, only breathing heavily.

Seeing this, a look of dismay washed over my face.

Crete was at his limit.

A sense of foreboding filled me.

“Shall we…rest for a moment?” I asked.

Crete was silent.

He only stared at me blankly.

After a while, he nodded.

*Thud-*

I gently laid Crete down against a nearby tree.

‘It should be alright if we rest for a short while.’

The Sword Saint had only attacked us; he hadn’t pursued us further.

I didn’t know how long the Demon soldiers could buy us time, but it should be enough for us to catch our breath.

I decided to wait until Crete’s breathing evened out.

As I waited, Crete spoke.

“...Water. I’m thirsty.”

Crete frowned, as if his thirst was unbearable.

I took out a flask from my pocket. It was a flask that held more water than its size suggested.

I handed it to Crete, and he started to drink.

Then, he coughed, his throat seemingly irritated by the cold water.

Blood came out along with the water as Crete coughed.

I couldn’t open my mouth, my heart heavy as I watched him.

The man who had been more arrogant than anyone else was now so frail.

For some reason, I felt a pang of sadness.

“Phew…”

Crete, having stopped coughing up blood, leaned back against the tree and half-closed his eyes as if trying to catch his breath.

Then, he asked me,

“What’s the situation on the battlefield?”

“...”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

Perhaps due to the shock, Crete couldn’t even remember what had happened on the battlefield.

But I couldn’t hide the truth from him.

Carefully, I spoke,

“Most of the Demon soldiers have been slain by the humans. The Lord has fallen to the Sword Saint, and the enemies are still strong.”

“...Is that so.”

Crete lowered his head for a moment before bursting into laughter.

His laughter, a mixture of madness and emptiness, made me frown.

Crete’s death was approaching.

The stench of death clung to him.

A thick, unpleasant odor emanated from him.

Crete asked me again,

“What happened to my daughter?”

He was asking about Rene.

“The young lady is safe. I instructed Kyle to take her to the gate leading to the Demon Realm.”

“...Good…good…”

Crete gave a faint smile, seemingly relieved.

I felt a surge of anger.

So many had died.

And yet, he had entrusted even his daughter’s safety to me.

Was it because of that?

I couldn’t hold back my anger any longer and let it out at Crete.

“This war was destined for defeat from the start. Surely you knew this, Lord. Why? Why did so many have to shed blood and fall?”

“...”

Crete was silent for a moment.

Then, he looked at me with empty eyes, devoid of their usual arrogance.

As if speaking to himself, he began to mutter the reason why he had waged this war.

“I thought I didn’t deserve to see my wife’s face. I thought I had to kill humans… The fading vengeance and the blurring face of my wife as time passed, I was terrified of them.”

“Is that the reason? You sacrificed so many just because of your guilt?”

It was a foolish choice.

Bares had suffered near annihilation because of Crete’s ambition, and Rene had almost died.

The two siblings of Bares, having lost their mother, were now to lose their father as well.

They had lost all their kin.

Not even past twenty, they were left alone to face this harsh world without any blood relatives.

I growled at Crete,

“Did you want to be a good father?”

“...No.”

Crete shook his head after a moment of contemplation.

“I knew I couldn’t be a good father from the moment I failed to protect my wife. But I wanted to avenge her death, to heal the wounds in Rene and Anna’s hearts… Even if it meant throwing my own life away.”

His hoarse voice rang in my ears.

I scoffed at his words.

“Did you truly believe that was enough?”

“...”

“Think again. Was that truly what they desired?”

“...”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t tell me you wanted to heal your daughters’ wounds. Stop lying. You already know. You’re just turning a blind eye to it.”

I finally understood why Crete had started the war.

He had planned to die in this battle anyway, whether he killed the Sword Saint or not.

Crete, drowning in the guilt of failing to protect his wife, sought to escape his pain by ending his own life.

“...Foolish Crete.”

*Pitter-patter-*

The rain grew heavier, dyeing the sky a dark black.

The world was painted in a color that was either joyous or despairing, I couldn’t tell.

“So tell them.”

“Tell them you’re sorry. Tell them you’re sorry for being a useless father. If you don’t tell them, who will?”

Please.

I grabbed Crete’s shoulders and shook him.

The warmth of life was fading from him.

The sound of his once-strong heartbeat grew fainter.

His eyes began to lose focus, and the fire within them dwindled.

Crete parted his lips slightly and spoke, his voice a mere whisper.

“...I still remember. When the life that held her warmth was born, and when I held that small, but distinctly warm life in my arms…”

I silently listened to his words.

Crete was reminiscing about the past.

About the time when his wife was still alive.

“I thought, ‘Such a fragile being, breathing…’ I was more nervous than when I stood before a raging inferno, terrified that I might extinguish that warmth with a single mistake.”

Crete gave a faint smile.

“I wanted to be a father worthy of pride, to protect that warmth. That tiny warmth was more precious than anything to me, who had lost his wife.”

*Thud-*

Crete reached out his hand towards the darkened sky.

“This body, which stole the warmth of another, came to understand the preciousness of warmth. That warmth gave me a reason to live. But in the end, I couldn’t protect it.”

His voice, filled with regret, made my heart ache.

Crete let out a ragged breath.

I knew instinctively.

This was his last.

An indescribable emotion welled up inside me.

I listened silently to Crete’s final words.

“Let me ask you one thing.”

“Go ahead.”

I showed respect for his final moments.

Though I had lost my composure and lashed out at him, I wanted to treat him with respect in his last moments.

“Although I couldn’t protect their mother, nor nurture their warmth, only watching over them from afar…”

“...”

“...Do I have the right to be called their father?”

I couldn’t answer.

My heart ached too much at that moment.

What wrong had Crete and the people of Bares committed?

The hidden truths of the Six Clans, which even I didn\'t fully comprehend, and the cruelty of humans that I had written, had brutally trampled upon the Demons.

In the process, Crete\'s wife lost her life, and their future was left in ruins.

I didn\'t answer Crete\'s question immediately.

Instead, I took a breath and slowly opened my mouth.

"What do you think I am?"

"...It seems you\'re going to confess yourself now that you\'re about to die."

Crete let out a hollow laugh.

Seeing his reaction, it seemed he already knew what I was.

A descendant of Arsene.

Crete knew that fact.

The fact that he didn\'t explicitly mention my lineage meant he wanted something from me.

However, what I asked Crete wasn\'t about my lineage.

It was about my essence.

"I am neither Arsene Adel nor Pixie Adel. I was never an Adel to begin with."

"...So you used an alias."

"No, I mean it literally."

I shook my head at Crete\'s assumption.

Crete stared at me with a puzzled look on his face.

Looking at him, I finally spoke.

A secret I couldn\'t and hadn\'t told anyone.

"As the one above all, as the father of all creation, I shall speak."

My words.

Crete\'s empty eyes trembled once.

In a softer tone than ever before, I whispered to him,

"...The warmth you embraced was not worthless. You may not have been perfect, but you were a proper father."

I finished my words.

Crete\'s voice trembled.

"You are..."

Crete stared at me with dazed eyes.

Then, he stopped moving.

But before the fire in his eyes completely died out, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

*Pitter-patter-*

The heavy rain started pouring again.

The downpour pounded on my body and the lifeless one of Crete, who now rested with his eyes closed.

For him, who was the father of two children, I spoke.

“Farewell.”

……My foolish child.

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