Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 53
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 53
The moment Lermiel tried to close the door, the priest approached the doorway.
His foot stopped right in front of the door frame.
His fingertips glowed again.
The light spread thinly.
“Here.”
He said.
“I think I smell something undead.”
My back went cold.
Undead.
That word had called me before my own name ever did.
Every time I was called that, my body stiffened first.
The priest’s eyes searched for me through the gap in the door.
His gaze was precise.
Since I’m four years old, when I hide, I want to breathe even louder.
When I hold it in, it comes out even louder.
I was scared that would give me away.
Demian stood in front of me.
His body completely blocked me from view.
His shadow covered me.
Winter’s shadow is cold, but right now it was a shield.
The priest laughed lowly.
His lips slowly curved upward.
“Found you.”
The door didn’t burst open with a crash. Instead, it was pushed in very slowly. Through the gap, the priest’s eyes appeared first. My breath caught short inside my chest. Four-year-old lungs can’t hold out for long. Don’t cry. I held myself together inside.
As the door was pushed, the wood made a very thin creaking sound.
The gap gradually widened.
The priest’s eyes entered first, followed by his shoulders.
Demian took a step forward.
His foot pressed firmly against the floor.
Winter’s energy thinly froze the prayer room floor.
A cold barrier spread.
The candlestick flames flickered low.
The small unextinguished fire trembled even without wind.
Lermiel didn’t close the door completely.
He was holding out with just a small gap remaining.
His hand was pressing against the door.
The priest’s gaze swept over us.
From top to bottom, then bottom to top again.
Though not cold, his eyes were like chilled blades.
It felt like they would cut if they touched.
“Open it.”
The priest said.
Short and clear.
“This is a prayer room.”
Lermiel answered.
His breathing shook a little, but his words didn’t break.
“That makes it even better. Sacred power reveals the truth.”
The word truth struck my ears.
It pierced sharply.
At the Research Institute, truth wasn’t confession but cutting away.
Opening flesh to see inside.
I clenched my hands tightly.
My fingertips still tingled.
The coldness remained.
Yurahel couldn’t steady his breathing beside me.
His breath came in short, broken intervals.
The silver spot on the inside of his wrist pulsed very faintly.
The light hadn’t completely disappeared.
What remained was more frightening.
It meant it wasn’t completely over.
I need to buy time. A four-year-old mind can’t go far. So I choose just one thing. Sound.
Thoughts don’t stretch long. When I grab one thing, I go with it to the end.
I suddenly dropped to my knees on the floor. The stone was cold. My knees stung. But I knelt anyway.
The stone’s coldness rose immediately. It felt like it reached my bones.
Cold sensation spread from beneath my knees.
Still, I didn’t move.
“I’m praying!”
I deliberately made my voice loud.
The prayer room air stopped for a moment.
The candlelight flickered very slightly.
Lermiel’s eyes turned toward me.
The priest’s gaze fell down.
It dropped from top to bottom.
“You can’t be loud at night. This is a prayer room.”
I added while catching my breath.
My voice trembled, but I continued speaking.
The priest laughed lowly.
The corners of his mouth slowly rose.
“The child knows proper etiquette.”
“Not a child.”
I spoke in short, clipped words.
The priest’s eyes narrowed.
His gaze deepened.
He pushed the door further.
The door opened a little more.
Lermiel held firm.
The back of his hand turned white.
Color drained as much as force was applied.
The priest stepped one foot inside.
His foot touched the floor.
The scent of holy oil grew thicker.
The air became heavier.
It mixed with the smell of mark water.
The two scents rose together in layers.
The inside of my nose stung.
Every time I breathed in, it hurt inside.
I swept my gaze across the center of the prayer room.
I moved my eyes quickly.
I looked at low places, not high ones.
A small washing basin came into view.
It was placed close to the floor.
Some water remained in the holy water basin.
The surface was still, without any ripples.
I rushed over almost crawling and plunged my hands in.
I lowered my body and pushed against the floor.
My hands were submerged in the water.
The water wasn’t cold.
It had a lukewarm sensation.
The scent of holy oil lingered in it.
The sticky smell clung to my hands.
I cupped the water and scattered it across the floor.
Water dripped between my fingers.
The droplets sparkled under the candlelight.
Light scattered like tiny dots.
The fragrance spread further.
It dispersed into the air.
The smell was covered.
It became blurred as it mixed.
“What are you doing?”
The priest said.
His voice settled low.
Instead of answering, I scooped water again and placed it over Yurahel’s wrist.
I dipped my hands again and pulled them out.
I slowly rubbed with my small hands.
I pressed against the skin.
Unable to cover it all at once, I covered it two, three more times.
Water flowed down his wrist.
The silver dot trembled.
The light shook unsteadily.
Though it didn’t completely disappear, the light wavered.
It weakened like taking a single breath.
“Stop it.”
The priest said.
I didn’t stop my hands.
If I stop, it will flare up again.
“There’s no smell.”
The priest raised his hand.
His fingertips rose upward.
Holy power flashed and came down.
The light fell all at once.
Light that should have been warm was sharp.
It fell like a blade.
It resembled the light from the Research Institute.
My body remembered first.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight.
I didn’t try to avoid it.
I can’t avoid it.
At that moment, Lermiel threw his body forward.
His movement was quickly cut off then continued.
His arm blocked in front of me.
He stood as a shield.
The holy power grazed his arm.
The light scraped against his skin.
The sound of breath cutting off rang out.
It was cut short and rough.
His knees swayed.
His strength drained away.
“Lermiel!”
A cry tore through my throat and came out.
I tried to hold it back but it burst out.
It was high-pitched.
My breath shattered in short gasps.
I reached out my hands to catch him.
I spread my arms.
I was too small to properly embrace him.
The area my hands could reach was limited.
But I still held on.
The priest ground his teeth.
“Ikaros. You’ve crossed the line today.”
Demian’s voice resonated low.
It spread like a sound rising from the floor.
“You’re the one who crossed it.”
The air froze again.
A cold barrier spread.
The floor hardened thinly.
But this time the priest stepped back.
He stepped back one pace.
He withdrew outside the doorway.
He stepped back one pace outside the door.
His eyes still sought me out.
His gaze didn’t fall away.
“You smell of immortality. To a sickening degree.”
The words fell slowly.
And he turned around just like that.
He turned his body without hesitation.
His footsteps grew distant.
One step, two steps, growing smaller and smaller.
They spread through the corridor then disappeared.
Only then did I let out a big breath.
My chest fell once, deeply.
My chest ached, and my eyes stung.
The inside of my eyes felt hot.
Lermiel leaned against the wall and sat down.
His body sank down powerlessly.
Demian caught him.
His hands provided firm support.
Yurahel stood holding his wet wrist.
His hands were still trembling.
The silver dot still remained.
“It’s not over.”
I said.
My breathing wasn’t steady yet.
“Right.”
Demian answered.
It was a low, firm sound.
His words settled thinly over the air.
I slumped down to the floor. My knees were starting to hurt now. Four-year-olds hurt immediately when tension releases. I looked down at my small palms. I held them twice today. Yurahel. Lermiel. I muttered to myself.
‘I won’t let go.’
The moisture remaining on my palms had grown cold.
The water caught between my palm lines was slowly drying.
My fingertips still felt numb.
A cold sensation lingered.
There was a burning smell from Lermiel’s arm.
It was the smell of seared flesh.
Mixed with the scent of holy oil, it was even more nauseating.
When sweet and burning mix, it’s even more suffocating.
I wrinkled my nose.
The inside of my nose stung.
I hated it but couldn’t look away.
My gaze kept sticking to that direction.
That smell is the smell of pain.
I know that.
Pain always tries to devour me.
When it comes close, I feel it more intensely.
Lermiel’s breathing trembled thinly.
His breaths weren’t long.
They broke short then continued.
Thin breathing is a lie.
I know that.
When breathing is thin, you’re not okay.
“I’m fine.”
He said.
His voice was low but light.
I shook my head.
Slowly, definitively.
“Lie.”
My words cut off.
Demian’s hand pressed against the back of my head.
His palm wrapped around my head.
My posture lowered.
My gaze dropped downward.
His eyes were looking at the door.
His gaze was fixed on the door.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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