Hero's Coffin Chapter 37

Chapter 37

He curled up as if hiding, startled.

"I'm, hah, having difficulty breathing right now."

He explained, burying his face in his raised knees. His pronunciation was slurred, so it probably sounded quite ridiculous. But he didn't have the presence of mind to care about such things. In fact, he had been painfully suppressing his body's abnormalities for a while now.

The heat that had spread from his arm, throbbing, now raced to the extremities of his body with a tingling sensation. Clearly, at first it had been just a pain like the spot where the claws had been embedded was aching, but at some point, it had begun to heat his body in a very strange way.

His breathing kept becoming irregular, and his body trembled. These changes caused his emotions to surge. The cause was obvious. He had been trying to ignore it, deliberately bringing up other topics to avoid it, but now he couldn't pretend not to know.

The succubus's curse.

Wasn't the future indicated by this combination of words obvious? After all, succubi are commonly used as symbols of lust. Since this succubus had been so unusual, he had tried to list other possibilities—maybe he would have nightmares, or suffer from trauma like Kalterik. In fact, he had desperately hoped for that. Please, let it be nightmares, please.

But inevitably his body gradually became strange, and he just wanted to cry. He couldn't even distinguish if he was crying out of anger or sobbing from suffering this strange sensation.

Fuck, wasn't this game rated for 15-year-olds?

As he internally protested that the game's age rating was in jeopardy, Harenir grabbed his shoulder and asked,

"Is the curse spreading? I had been suppressing it..."

"Don't touch me!"

Whoosh! He violently knocked away Harenir's hand. His nerves were on edge and he even shouted, but his action stopped abruptly.

He had clearly meant to shake off Harenir's hand. His body was so tense that it was sensitive even to minor contact, so he had tried to push him away, but paradoxically, at the moment he tried to knock the hand away, they made complete contact. When bare skin collided instead of touching through clothes, a completely different sensation came.

"Ah..."

It was probably close to a languid pleasure akin to relief.

Though he clearly hadn't wanted it, as soon as their hands touched, he liked it to the point of craving. He even became certain that this was the sensation he had been desperately longing for since the moment he woke up.

He barely held onto his reason and didn't commit the disgrace of seeking Harenir's hand again, but Harenir quietly looked down at him and reached out his hand first.

Pat, his hand touched his cheek.

"Haaah..."

A languid sigh escaped as he unknowingly buried his face in Harenir's hand as if yearning for it. He rubbed his cheek frantically against the large, firm hand and then... belatedly jerked back. Had he gone mad? No, he had gone mad. It was actually a proposition.

"I-I'm not doing this on purpose..."

"I know. You're seeking holy power."

"...Huh?"

While he spoke with his voice trembling in great confusion, Harenir remained calm. Come to think of it, he seemed to have said earlier that he had been 'suppressing the curse'.

"I was suppressing the demon's curse with holy power. It worked while you were unconscious, but now that you're awake, it's not working anymore. It seems the curse is awakening with you and spreading in earnest..."

He blinked at the calm tone, as if Harenir was studying the situation. While Harenir's attitude was bewildering, he also had a question.

"But why am I seeking holy power? Aren't they opposites..."

"The reason itself of being attracted because they're opposites, and the reason that your body is instinctively clinging to it because holy power can drive out demonic energy."

The action of showing his index and middle fingers while explaining was very kind. It seemed this body had become as weak as paper, but its survival instinct was unnecessarily strong and persisting.

That instinct was both ridiculous and tormenting because the object it sought was Harenir. What he had done with Harenir's hand just now was shameful even to think about again.

Yes, so the solution now is...

Thud!

"...Are you in your right mind?"

He had tried to slam his head against the wall, but Harenir quickly reached out his hand to stop him. The hand that covered his forehead hit the wall instead. Though it must have been quite painful, either because he didn't care since no wound would remain anyway, or because he was really bewildered by his action, Harenir just looked at him without showing any sign of pain.

But more than that, he was frustrated that Harenir's hand was now touching his forehead.

"Haaah... Aagh, get off! Don't touch me!"

Against his will, he rubbed his face against Harenir's palm again before jerking back and shouting. He must have looked like he was having a fit. This action clearly answered Harenir's earlier question with a 'No.'

There was no time for this kind of wrestling now. His breathing was already on the verge of panting, and the emotion that had been welling up for a while now was even making his eyes hot, as if trying to make him shed tears. His eyes were probably red too.

He glared at Harenir with the most ridiculous expression and said,

"You said, hah, the curse spreads in earnest when I'm awake. Then, sob, wouldn't it be fine if I collapse again? So, d-don't stop me."

He was determined to bring down this cursed body no matter what. As he tried to move again with this grave resolve, Harenir let out a sigh. Somehow, it sounded like a dry laugh.

"Are you going to sleep forever?"

"What? If I, I collapse, can't you, hah, suppress it again with your holy power?"

"How am I supposed to deal with something that's already started spreading throughout your body?"

"A hero, huu, can do it."

"Haha..."

Finally, Harenir laughed. It was a short, genuine laugh that burst out at a truly unexpected moment, and he covered his mouth with his hand as if trying to hide it. But when he met his eyes, which were demanding if he was laughing at his trust, it eventually spread into a smile. He buried his face in his hands and chuckled.

His shoulders shook slightly and even his golden hair swayed. Is it funny? Is it funny, when someone is prepared to sleep forever and trying to slam their forehead against the wall?

Only after laughing for a while did Harenir finally catch his breath and raise his head. He looked at him as if he had never imagined having such a conversation.

"I knew you talked a lot when you were flustered since we came here, but..."

"Hah, I'm not flustered, huu, I'm very serious right now."

"Well, we'll need your cooperation to get out of here anyway..."

Harenir muttered something while ignoring his protest. Somehow, it sounded like a plausible excuse for what he was about to do.

Soon, Harenir sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

Startled by this action, he scrambled to the corner of the bed, curling up. Damn it, the ancient bed was so small that he couldn't move far away. Harenir just shrugged very nonchalantly and said,

"Let's deal with it quickly and get it over with. I'll help you."

"W-what are we dealing with?"

"The succubus's curse. To put it intuitively."

Harenir smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"You're in heat right now."

It was a word he could hardly believe came from the mouth of someone who had devoutly served as a holy knight from a young age, and who had been praised as a hero after ascending to the position of commander right after his coming-of-age ceremony.

So he gave him time to recover, denying that he had heard wrong, or guessing that it was a slip of the tongue, but the blue eyes staring at him remained calm.

He reached out his hand, fumbling.

"F-fall."

If he could detach Harenir's soul from his body, wouldn't the game end? Killing the hero, who was clearly the protagonist of this game, would go down in history as one of the greatest bad endings.

If he wrote about this on a community forum with the title "What's the worst ending you've seen in a game?", he'd probably get comments like "The writer of such a post is the worst", "Why did you call us?", "Close the shutters" and other criticisms.

"Do you think you can kill me?"

"W-we'll know if I try."

"Is that so... Then would you like to try?"

Harenir leaned forward as if he too was curious. His action of willingly offering his neck made him flustered instead. His fingertips were just about to touch Harenir's straight neck.

Is he joking now? Is he confident that as the son loved by God, he won't be affected by this mere necromancy? Or has he judged that Isaph has weakened and is now groaning from the curse, so he's no match anyway?

Or else... as if he was wishing for an end, even if it had to be like this.

Even in his dazed state, he could clearly judge that Harenir's behavior was strange. At first he had felt it was deception, but Harenir's expression was too enigmatic. On the other hand, feeling uncomfortable at the thought of touching Harenir, he quietly curled his fingertips, and Harenir smiled gently.

"Why? You said my soul was beautiful, have you lost interest now?"

"...I have no intention, hah, of taking your soul."

"I thought you coveted Sir Kalterik's soul, so your heart has changed, I see."

"You, you're talking, very strangely..."