Will You Cry for Me If I Die? - Chapter 56

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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 56

I drew in a breath.

My chest rose rapidly.

My four-year-old chest filled completely.

The breath stopped in my throat.

I said to myself.

‘They’re here.’

The laughter outside the door grew closer.

It became clearer as it traveled down the corridor.

Count Iden’s laughter is always bright, bouncing like light.

It loosens what has hardened.

And Millayen said that very aspect sometimes creates openings for someone.

When I asked what kind of openings, he said I didn’t need to know yet.

But for some reason, I was terribly curious about it now.

Heavy, steady footsteps were mixed in as background to the laughter.

The rhythm was constant.

There was no wavering.

Those footsteps had a perfect rhythm.

Perfect rhythm means the Priesthood.

I drew in a breath.

The breath cut short.

Four-year-olds can’t make long breaths well.

So I clenched my hands tightly.

My fingers dug into my palms.

When I clench my hands, my breath gets caught too.

It doesn’t scatter.

Demian pressed his body against the side of the door.

His back touched the wall.

Frost formed at his fingertips.

It rose thinly like white breath.

The air became a little colder.

Lermiel stood up from his chair and leaned against the wall.

His movement was slow.

His arm still trembled.

It shook finely.

Yurahel stepped back half a step behind me.

His foot carefully pushed against the floor.

He moved as if trying to hide me.

I hated that.

My chest immediately hardened.

I hate hiding.

Hiding is something from the Research Institute.

A place that makes you invisible.

But now it’s necessary.

If you hate what’s necessary, you die.

I pressed my lips together.

I swallowed my words inward.

The door almost opened without a knock, then stopped.

The handle moved slightly, then stopped.

Someone had stopped in front of the door.

The footsteps stopped right in front of the door.

Iden’s voice was heard.

It bounced brightly.

“Oh my, if you call me this late, I’ll come again!”

Those words made the inside of the room a little lighter.

The air loosened thinly.

The servant spoke in a small voice from behind.

It was a voice holding back breath.

“Count, quietly.”

Iden laughed in an even louder voice.

The laughter hit the walls.

“If I’m quiet, I wouldn’t be me!”

Hearing that sound made me feel good for a moment.

My chest loosened a little.

When you feel good, you let your guard down.

I immediately clenched my hands again.

I put strength into my fingertips.

Then, the priest’s voice was heard.

“Open the door.”

The distinctive water scent came rushing in through the doorway.

It seeped in through the thin gap.

It was a cold, damp smell.

As soon as it touched my nose tip, the inside stung.

Yurahel’s wrist trembled finely.

It shook very slightly.

Just barely visible to the eye.

I hated that trembling, so I lightly touched Yurahel’s sleeve with my finger.

I touched it just once.

“Breathe.”

Yurahel exhaled very quietly and long.

The breath stretched out thinly.

His chest lowered a little.

Iden cleared his throat once in front of the door.

A small cough echoed.

“The Priesthood came all the way here at this hour?”

Iden’s words sound playful, but there’s a blade inside them.

Softly wrapped, with a sharp edge inside.

The priest answered.

His voice was low and firm.

“An abnormality in holy power was detected.”

Iden laughed.

It was laughter mixed with breath.

“An abnormality.”

That laughter became a little sharper.

The end grew thin.

“This is a guest room of Icarus.”

The priest spoke lowly.

“Even if they’re guests, the scent of immortality is an exception.”

Immortality.

That word struck my chest again.

My insides thudded heavily.

Even though I’m four years old, hearing that word made my throat go dry.

The inside of my mouth dried up instantly. Like a desert.

This is fear.

My body knows first.

Demian spoke low toward the door.

His voice scraped along the floor.

“Count.”

Iden immediately responded.

He didn’t break his breathing.

“Yes, Young Lord.”

He deliberately spoke more lightly.

He raised his tone a level.

When things are light, the real truth hides.

When the surface floats, the inside sinks.

I knew that Iden was hiding the truth right now.

The door opened carefully.

The handle turned slowly.

The door opened just a little, then was pushed further.

Iden stuck his face out first.

Light touched his face first.

His face was always smiling.

The corners of his mouth were naturally turned up.

But his eyes weren’t smiling.

His pupils were coldly fixed.

Those eyes swept the room once and looked at me very briefly.

Like a passing glance.

I raised my head.

I met his gaze.

Since I’m four years old, I can’t hold a staring contest for long.

My eyes shake easily.

But right now I didn’t look away.

The corners of Iden’s mouth rose higher.

His smile deepened.

He spoke toward the outside.

His voice became light again.

“Excuse me, but this room is currently under treatment!”

Treatment.

A good word.

A soft, blocking word.

The priest might dislike treatment.

Because it’s not his domain.

The priest probably thinks only he should do healing.

That’s how I felt.

The priest tried to take a step into the room from outside the door.

His foot tried to cross the threshold.

Demian’s frost spread thinly across the threshold.

It spread invisibly.

Cold energy clung to the floor.

The priest’s shoe hesitated.

His toes slipped slightly then stopped.

Iden immediately raised his hand.

He lifted it quickly.

“Oh my, it’s slippery!”

He deliberately spoke loudly.

He raised his voice.

“Priest, it would be terrible if you fell!”

The priest spoke low.

“Don’t play games.”

Iden said with a smile.

His shoulders shook just a little.

“It’s not a game, it’s concern, isn’t it?”

The priest’s breathing became a little rough.

His breathing wasn’t steady.

The mark’s scent came stronger from that breath.

The water smell became thicker.

I disliked that smell, so I blinked my eyes.

I blinked twice briefly.

When you blink, tears go down.

The inside gets organized for a moment.

I don’t cry.

Lermiel spoke quietly while leaning against the wall.

He spoke while steadying his breathing.

“Priest, I am a guest of Amarantha.”

He deliberately brought up the word guest again.

The priest’s gaze moved to Lermiel.

“You are.”

The priest said.

His voice sank low.

Even without crossing the threshold, it pressed into the room.

“The Royal Palace’s shadow?”

Lermiel’s face hardened very slightly.

The corners of his mouth stopped almost invisibly.

His pupils shook very briefly then settled again.

I saw that subtlety.

Sick people’s faces harden quickly.

When breathing becomes thin, they harden even faster.

I hated that.

Hardened faces break easily.

Iden drew the priest’s gaze back to himself.

He turned his body slightly.

He slipped thinly between the priest and Lermiel.

He suddenly shook the small pouch he was holding.

He flicked his wrist lightly.

Jingle.

It was the sound of coins.

Metal struck against metal and rang briefly.

“Priest, doesn’t hearing this sound at night put your mind at ease?”

Iden said.

His words ended with a light bounce.

The priest spoke as if incredulous.

His eyebrows moved just slightly.

“What is that.”

Iden interrupted.

He raised his voice as if cutting off the words.

“Donation!”

“Tomorrow morning, I will make a donation to the Priesthood!”

The words came quickly in succession.

The pouch in his hand shook once more.

The sound of coins scratched the air.

The priest paused for a moment.

His feet didn’t come any further inside.

His eyes narrowed just slightly.

Money is something even priests can like.

They just don’t say they like it.

I know that.

It was the same at the Research Institute.

They receive dirty things with clean faces.

Their hands always look clean.

Demian spoke in a low voice.

He barely mixed in any breath.

“Count, more.”

Iden immediately nodded.

He moved briefly up and down.

“However!”

Iden raised his voice toward the priest.

He slightly elevated his tone.

“You must return today. Yes?”

The priest spoke coldly.

“If I return, the undead will run away.”

Iden smiled.

The corners of his mouth rose gently.

“Run away, you say. How dare.”

He softly trimmed his words.

He made the sound round.

“This is Ikaros.”

Those words changed the air in the room.

The air froze thinly.

Ikaros.

Winter.

The end.

Hearing that, my shoulders straightened a little.

The inside became just slightly firmer.

Four-year-old shoulders shrink easily.

So it was good that they straightened easily too.

The priest tried to take another step inside.

His toes brushed the doorway.

At that moment, Yurahel’s wrist pulsed again.

Light flashed once beneath his skin.

The silver dot became a little darker.

What had been blurry became clear.

My chest sank.

My breath was briefly blocked.

The closer the priest gets, the stronger the mark becomes.

The more the distance shrinks, the more it reveals itself.

Then is the priest deliberately coming closer to strengthen the mark?

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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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