Chapter 374
It wasn’t just monsters. Humans, too, had tried tempting him with all kinds of wealth, sensual bodies, and beautiful faces.
Yet, Michael had never once felt drawn to them.
A hand only reaches for something it desires, and since he had never desired any of it, there was no way he’d give in.
‘Then why…?’
Michael stared blankly at Irene, who was blowing gently on a spoonful of stew he’d made, then taking a bite. She was a strange woman. She was merely enjoying a meal, yet watching her brought him an unparalleled sense of comfort.
Moreover, even yesterday, seeing her asleep, he had thought she was truly a beautiful woman. Now, as she sat before him, animatedly moving, he found himself unable to look away, no matter how hard he tried.
When she took a bite of the sandwich he’d made, her eyes widened in delight, and she smiled brightly. Before he realized it, Michael found himself nearly smiling back at her.
‘No, snap out of it!’
He shook his head roughly.
This wasn’t possible. Having lived at the temple since childhood, he’d never been swayed by anything.
Yet, what was it about this woman that made his heart flutter simply because she ate well and smiled brightly?
But no matter how he tried to control himself, his gaze inevitably followed Irene as if it were instinct.
Then, noticing a tentacle creeping toward the salad again, Michael shot a fierce glare at it.
Having already finished her meal, Irene tidied up around her and said to Michael,
“Today’s meal was delicious as always. Thank you, Michael.”
The words ‘as always’ made something deep within his chest tingle sharply, as if he’d been waiting all day to hear them.
Michael bit his lip gently, struggling to regain control of himself.
“…You don’t need to thank me particularly.”
After saying that, he searched for a justifiable reason for his own behavior. Why was he making a meal for this woman in the first place?
Then Michael suddenly recalled a verse from scripture he’d read thousands, if not tens of thousands, of times.
“The scriptures say never to raise a sword against someone carrying a child, even if they are your enemy. All life is born upon this earth as a blessing, and thus…”
* * *
While Michael stayed inside tidying up the table, Irene sat outside on the fallen log he had occupied the night before, gazing blankly at the lake and muttering to herself.
“So… is this why people called him a living scripture…?”
Michael’s sudden recital of scripture hadn’t ended quickly. His continuous quoting reminded her of the priests from her childhood, who had offered unbearably long and tedious prayers.
[Whatever the reason, His Majesty is mean!]
While Irene was muttering, Chomp-chomp poked a tentacle out from behind a rock. It was clearly still grumpy, having failed to snatch even a single bite of salad under Michael’s fierce gaze.
Irene gently stroked Chomp-chomp, comforting it as it sulked. As she did, she suddenly remembered the past, back to the time she’d completely forgotten Michael and had lived in a fabricated world he created solely for her.
‘How did Michael feel when he was disappearing?’
In a few days, Michael’s memory would return. Yet even knowing that, Irene felt repeatedly upset. She hadn’t expected facing Michael, who couldn’t recognize her, to be this painful.
Yet Michael had gone as far as completely erasing himself and creating a world where she wouldn’t remember him at all.
How painful must it have been for him to prepare something like that?
Next to the dejected Chomp-chomp, Irene once again found herself feeling melancholy. Then suddenly, she thought of a plan.
* * *
A little later.
“You say you need my hand?”
Michael looked suspiciously at Irene, who sat at the table extending her hand toward him.
“Yes.”
Irene nodded confidently.
“I think doing this might help your memory return faster.”
Irene thought he might retreat suspiciously, wondering what she was up to. Surprisingly, however, Michael obediently sat down in front of her.
“Alright.”
“Will you be okay holding hands?”
“…I’ll try to endure it. But only briefly.”
“Okay.”
She had thought it would be difficult to persuade him, but Irene’s face brightened at how easily he agreed. She held the hand Michael extended toward her and slowly intertwined her fingers tightly with his.
“……!”
Michael, who had thought she would merely hold his hand, flinched at her fingers slowly slipping between his own. Just as he was about to pull his hand away—
“Ah…!”
He stopped breathing at the sudden surge of sensation rushing through him.
A sweet, viscous feeling he’d never experienced before climbed up through his hand.
