Let the Whales Fight, This Shrimp is Leaving! - Chapter 61

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 61
Accidents always happen in the blink of an eye.
“Ugh, ah…….”
Deyan Boislav Nemanic writhed as his insides churned like boiling water.
Kill.
Blood. I need blood.
There’s something here worth killing.
It smells so sweet.
Hurry!
A twisted, warped voice dominated his mind.
“The P-Pendant…….”
He had to block the Curse.
Otherwise, he would kill the woman before him again.
“The Pendant, please…….”
Deyan reached toward Giselle, struggling to steady his blurring vision.
Understanding his words, Giselle glanced around frantically.
Now’s the time!
Ignoring the screams in his head, he desperately fought down the urge.
He wanted to seize everything in sight, tear it to shreds, break white bone, and drink red blood.
His body burned.
His throat was parched.
If he drank this woman’s blood, perhaps the thirst would ease.
“No.”
Startled by the thought that suddenly surfaced, Deyan shook his head urgently.
He couldn’t kill her.
If he killed this woman, would this thirst be satisfied? No.
If she died, someone would grieve.
Who?
“Nemanic!”
That was when it happened.
A trembling voice called to him.
Even as everything else faded, her voice remained unnaturally clear.
“Please, hold on!”
Hold on? To what?
Do you understand this pain?
Have you ever felt this burning thirst?
You know nothing.
He felt as though his skin had been flayed and he were cast into a furnace.
Every nerve screamed and cried out in agony.
It hurt.
It burned.
His throat, thick and constricted, could produce no normal sound.
Only the rough, ragged breathing of a beast escaped him.
“No!”
The woman cried out.
A woman?
How could she scream?
“Cough, ack……!”
Wasn’t she held fast in his grip?
Deyan stared at the woman struggling in his grasp.
Who was that?
A woman who had been running toward him from a distance tumbled down the stairs.
He watched her flower-petal-colored dress tear messily and fray.
A sweet scent emanated from her.
Despite the distance, that fragrance reached him, intoxicating.
Delicious.
With such a clear, sweet aroma, how exquisite it would be to pierce through that breast and devour her heart.
This unbearable thirst would vanish in an instant.
Then the dreadful pain would fade too.
“Ugh!”
A flinch.
Deyan’s shoulders twitched as he fixed his gaze on the woman.
When he turned to look, the thing that had been struggling in his grip tore the tendons in her arm and fled.
Blood dripped steadily from the torn muscle.
The seething pain intensified.
“Aaaaagh!”
Unable to resist the surge of rage, Deyan roared.
Fury blazed through him.
That impudent wretch.
She had dared to wound him.
Kill her at once!
Take revenge by tearing out her throat and drinking her blood!
Vengeance!
Now!
The voice that had seized his mind shrieked.
His vision clouded and reason ceased.
He could think of nothing else.
Or rather, he didn’t wish to.
Deyan seized a fallen sword and charged at the woman.
Like a beast pursuing fleeing prey, he drove off the ground and seized her flying hair in his fist.
“Agh!”
A whimper escaped the woman’s slender throat.
Her bleeding neck lay defenseless and exposed.
If he cut here, this thirst would be quenched.
Yes!
Cut that throat now!
And give it to me!
The frenzied voice shrieked its excitement.
“Nemanic, please!”
The woman screamed.
The sweet-voiced woman clung to his arm.
Ah.
Delicious.
“Ducal Princess!”
“Ducal Princess!”
Ducal Princess?
Voices suddenly rang out from all around him.
“Ducal Princess.”
Deyan found himself echoing the word they shouted, almost unthinking.
The woman called Ducal Princess clung to his arm holding the sword, pleading desperately.
“Come to your senses, please! Giselle, find the Pendant on the ground. Quickly!”
Terrified, her green eyes glistened with moisture as she gazed up at him.
Small hands clung desperately to his arm, fighting with all her strength to push the sword away.
Clarity returned.
Deyan understood what he had been about to do.
Once again, he had been on the verge of killing someone dear to Idir Hubert.
What are you doing!
The voice in his head twisted with rage.
It was rapidly seizing control of his consciousness again, gnawing away at his reason.
He had to act before it was too late.
He roughly shook Idir Hubert off his arm.
Then he reversed his grip on the sword he held.
The point now aimed at his own throat.
‘I wish I could simply die like this.’
He knew it would be pointless, yet he performed this foolish act.
You cannot escape.
We made a pact.
You promised me your heart.
‘Absurd.’
Gurgle.
A sound came from somewhere — blood being spat forth.
Air wheezed helplessly from his severed throat; he could not even scream.
He wanted to say something to this weeping woman, but…….
“Gasp.”
All that emerged was a sound nearly bestial.
Strength drained rapidly from his body.
Blood soaked his chest, wet and warm.
Deyan’s knees buckled and he collapsed.
No!
Regain consciousness, rise!
Take the blood. Then……!
No.
I won’t kill.
I don’t want to.
Please, vanish.
Please.
* * *
I desperately ran my hands across the ground around me.
Fortunately, I glimpsed something glimmering not far away.
Like someone seeking water in a desert, I crawled across the earth, seized it, and forced it into Deyan’s hand.
“You’re insane. You’re insane, truly……!”
Then I wound the still-bleeding wound at his throat with my dress hem and staunched the bleeding.
My hands trembled violently.
It had been so long since I lost my composure this completely.
‘How could he do it so unhesitatingly!’
To slit his own throat and lose consciousness.
My first meeting with him came to mind.
Surely he had struck his own forehead and lost consciousness then as well.
After he defeated Joaquin Perez and killed his aide, he had stabbed his own abdomen and instructed me to claim the wound hadn’t healed.
This time, as if answering my pleas, he had cut his own throat.
Even if he wouldn’t die, the pain would surely remain.
‘I was reckless.’
I had acted foolishly even though Deyan’s risk of rampage hadn’t entirely vanished.
This was all my fault.
Blinded by needless ambition, I had acted rashly and caused only Deyan suffering.
Sorrow welled up within me, and my tears would not stop.
My poor judgment had nearly gotten Giselle killed.
I had driven Deyan into a corner.
“I’m sorry…….”
I lay collapsed against the sleeping man’s chest, weeping.
“I’m truly sorry.”
* * *
The accident at the Training Ground was resolved without too much further incident.
Thanks to Deyan’s reason barely holding firm, there were no deaths.
Deyan alone had sustained injuries.
Though his wounds healed quickly, he could not entirely escape the pain.
“Cough, ah, aaaaah!”
It was said that with each wound’s healing came Burning Pain, and he thrashed and suffered through the night.
I kept vigil by Deyan’s side, doing all I could to ease his suffering.
I brought painkillers and sedatives to administer, but due to his altered physiology, even medicine proved useless.
As a result, Deyan had to endure every moment of the pain fully.
I poured cold water over him and ensured he would not strike furniture and injure himself further, but these measures seemed to help little.
Deyan’s convulsions only finally subsided as dawn broke.
I wiped his sweat-drenched body with a damp cloth and drew a blanket over his chest as it rose and fell with ragged breathing.
Finally stabilized, he fell asleep.
His even breathing settled softly into the silence.
I pulled a chair close to his bed and sat.
‘……I’m exhausted.’
Nursing such a large man directly was honestly rather taxing, but having committed this wrong, I could not complain.
The Pendant, its string replaced, hung safely at Deyan’s neck.
‘Why didn’t I foresee the possibility that it might fall during sparring.’
Deep regret washed over me once more.
“I have been cursed by a Demon.”
“That is not a contract.”
In that moment, I understood acutely what Deyan had meant when he said a Contract with a Demon was not a transaction but a unilateral Curse.
Why he had desperately tried to stop me from summoning the Demon.
“If you’d only suffered losses, then yes, it would be a Curse. But after all, you gained the Power of Immortality.”
I regretted the words I had carelessly spoken to him.
I too, knowing nothing, had presumed to judge and evaluate Deyan’s suffering of my own accord.
I regretted what I had said to him.
“I’m sorry.”
I offered my sincere apology to the deeply sleeping Deyan.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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