The Demon That Followed Her
A severed hand poked its head out through the open doorway, revealing its full form. Michael recognized it at once. When the Hand of Appraisal returned a portion of its main body, the creature would be named something grand like “The One Who Hides the Origin.” It was an absolute enigma—no one knew what its core truly was or where it lay hidden. So even in a dungeon, all that ever appeared were its long, writhing tentacles.
Once, driven by pure curiosity, Michael had grabbed one and pulled. Hours passed with no end in sight, and he finally gave up trying to reach its core. He had slaughtered other monsters that dared reveal themselves to him, only to have this particular tentacle greet him with a cheerful “Thanks for pruning!” and then saunter off as if the whole encounter had been pleasant.
Since then he had left it alone. This life, it had stayed hidden until now—and had finally latched onto her in the dungeon. Honestly, that was almost praiseworthy. Without it, Irene would never have been left alone inside the dungeon.
‘I did consider using it as an opportunity and expelling all other humans for good. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with Irene inside these walls.’
‘But I worried she’d be frightened, so I tried to leave…’
‘Irene came back the moment she saw me captured.’
Michael had honestly expected her to hesitate, then leave him behind alone. She had already died once before; why would she now risk it again for him? Yet Irene had stayed by his side. Of course the sealed entrance played a part, but the instant she returned to him, every other reason became irrelevant.
Michael sliced the tentacles apart and finished the thing following them, then led Irene deeper into the dungeon. The Heart of the Dungeon, where even the Eye of Exploration could not find them. A place teeming with plants from another world. This tentacle had been the first monster to reach here.
“You.”
“Yes?”
The tentacles froze mid-motion, as though the question had been overheard.
“Tell me what you saw.”
With a brief hesitation, the creature formed slimmer tentacles at the end of its main body. They twisted into perfect shapes. One became Irene. The others became Wilhelmina. It recreated the scene exactly—Irene walking the corridor, Wilhelmina at the end, and Irene collapsing the moment the mouth opened wide.
“The largest tentacle froze her with sound?”
“Yes, that’s right!”
The largest tentacle nodded vigorously. It continued its little show. As Wilhelmina approached Irene, the tentacles neatly blocked the way and then beat her soundly. Michael chose to overlook the exaggeration; the tentacle had indeed protected Irene.
The puppet theater ended with the creature proudly displaying all its creations.
“I do that much.”
“Even so, I told you not to follow her.”
“But… I was worried.”
The tentacles drooped.
“In any case, you saved Irene, so I won’t press you further. Did anyone else escape with you?”
The tentacles shook their bodies violently from side to side. No others. Michael’s expression grew even colder. ‘If that’s true, the monster that attacked Irene didn’t come from this dungeon directly—it was summoned from elsewhere.’
Long ago he had seen records in the Temple about summoning methods. Every scholar who knew them was now dead, and the documents had been erased… yet somehow the technique still existed here. Someone had used it.
‘Cecilia, probably.’
A princess touching ancient kingdom records? Unthinkable. Everyone must have begged Cecilia to perform the act. Moreover, the creature had mimicked Wilhelmina’s exact form. The missing maid who once doted on Cecilia and the monster that resembled her… had she been fed as bait?
‘Even though it’s from another world, summoning it here required a bridge. Someone sacrificed a human to connect the realms.’
‘And the creature wearing Wilhelmina’s shape left its own traces everywhere to stabilize itself in this world.’
The bloodstains left in the corridor proved it. ‘And that’s why this tentacle could remain here so long…’ Michael folded his arms and stared at it. Sweat-like liquid dripped from its body. ‘Should I kill it?’ he wondered. ‘It has no mouth—how does it understand me so easily?’
The tentacles began to plead earnestly. “I protected the queen! I’ll keep guarding her forever!”
“Having me stay close is enough.”
“……That’s true, but I can still go somewhere else for a while!”
“Then I’ll station other knights nearby…”
Michael fell silent. The thought of Irene surrounded by other knights made his teeth grind. ‘No. I can’t allow it.’
He knew it was childish. He knew he had no right to choose who stood beside Irene. Yet the mere image of any other man beside her twisted something deep inside his chest. Irene was with him now, and she craved him. But one day she might tire of him. Or her memories from the previous life might return and she would push him away again. Or—worse—a more handsome, gentler, stronger, higher-ranking man might appear and reject him for her.
Just imagining it made him sick. Michael pictured Irene surrounded by tentacles and knights and asked himself, “Which one can I trust?” “Me! Me! Me!” The peach-colored tentacles waved like hands in frantic agreement. Michael sighed and uncrossed his arms. “In any case, I’ll stay near you. Nothing dangerous will happen while I’m close. But if—even if—just a little, Irene is frightened or hurt… reveal yourself then. Otherwise, if you show yourself uselessly and frighten her, I’ll cut you down.”
He lifted the dagger Irene had placed on the table. The tentacles quickly retreated as if warned against even a playful swing. Michael nodded. “Then vanish.”
“Yes. Goodbye.”
The tentacles slipped behind the door. Michael walked to the spot and looked at the empty space. There was no trace left behind. “It’s stabilized here after all.”
That was not good. If this tentacle could remain so long, the one wearing Wilhelmina’s form would be even more powerful. ‘I have to catch it.’
He swept a hand across his face and returned to Irene’s side. She lay peacefully asleep on the bed. Even after such a shock she showed no sign of fear. Michael’s heart ached. ‘She doesn’t show it because she’s used to me.’
He carefully took her hand. She had been worried she might wake him. Instead, Irene smiled bashfully, pressed her cheek to his palm, and fell back into a gentle sleep. Michael stared at her face in a daze. Unlike before, her cheeks were flushed. Her hair shone with health and her skin looked as smooth as fresh milk. This life, he had prepared everything for her. The finest clothes, the finest food, warmth in winter and coolness in summer. He had given her comfort in every season.
His fingers brushed the thin, soft blanket covering her. Suddenly the past returned. The day he had gone to confirm her death in her quarters.