I Just Wanted to Avoid Death - Chapter 118
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When Adelio first said that, Yeshion thought he was just being playful. At the time, Yeshion hadn’t fully understood Adelio’s curse, simply assuming he was a womanizer.
“…Ah!”
The curse.
The instant Adelio came to mind again, Yeshion’s face turned even redder than a tomato.
Suddenly, forgotten memories raced through his mind—the night he’d attempted to suppress Adelio’s curse, only to have it rebound and leave him utterly aroused.
‘Cr–crazy…!’
Due to the chaos caused by Edward, he’d completely forgotten about that incident.
“Wh–wh–what should I do…?”
Yeshion muttered, gripping his hair nervously. He realized he hadn’t had a proper conversation with Adelio since that day.
All he remembered was lying breathless on the bed, barely able to distinguish dream from reality. He didn’t even clearly remember how many times Adelio had visited him in his room.
‘Wait a second, though… Would Adelio even remember that?’
Yeshion lifted his gaze, watching the priests passing by nearby.
Those he’d become somewhat close to during the eighteenth life now looked at him warily.
Even the young priest who once showed him the way to the underground prison and toilets, and Gilbert who stood at a distance—they were all watching him nervously, edging away when their eyes met.
‘It doesn’t seem like they remember…’
Who remembered and who didn’t—what exactly determined that difference?
Yeshion narrowed his eyes in thought but quickly shook his head. Dwelling on this alone wouldn’t get him anywhere—meeting Adelio face-to-face just once would answer all his questions.
It was simple, he could simply go find Adelio and ask him directly.
Yeshion chose to approach the issue in a straightforward manner.
* * *
Yeshion descended toward the underground prison with light steps. Only a year had passed, yet it felt oddly nostalgic.
‘I’m pretty sure I once swore never to return to this place again, no matter how many times I started over.’
There was a reason why people said if you live long enough, you’ll see much more.
At the bottom of the long staircase, familiar objects entered Yeshion’s view. Frightening-looking catheters, various torture instruments, and places still stained dark with dried blood were scattered around.
But there was something a bit different this time….
“Saintess?”
It was Rosaline standing there, of all people.
“…Ye—Yeshion?”
Rosaline looked up in panic. Clearly not expecting Yeshion to appear here, he took several steps back, nervously gripping the hem of his dress.
“What brings you here, Saintess…?”
Rosaline didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he hesitated, glancing alternately at Yeshion and the stairs behind him. Finally, he bit his lips firmly and spoke.
“I’m about to say something really stupid, so…”
“…..?”
“Just… Could you just listen quietly for a moment?”
Rosaline gazed at him with trembling eyes, as though desperate for confirmation.
After quickly glancing at the securely closed iron bars behind him, Yeshion nodded gently. He’d checked instinctively, worried that Adelio might leap out suddenly and harm him.
“Yeshion, right now you’re…not in pain anymore, right?”
As Rosaline asked his question, he slowly approached Yeshion.
“You don’t feel burning pain in your chest, or fever running all over your body…?”
“…..”
“You aren’t in unbearable, death-like agony anymore…?”
His faintly trembling voice soon brimmed with tears. Rosaline, standing close to him now, stared into Yeshion’s face, tears streaming down silently.
He swallowed down hus sobs desperately, unwilling or perhaps unable to cry openly. Seeing this, Yeshion realized instantly: Rosaline, too, remembered clearly how he had slowly faded away each day.
“I couldn’t do anything…”
“…..”
“I was so weak and useless. I couldn’t find medicine, couldn’t hide who I was… I couldn’t do a single thing…”
Yeshion raised his gaze slightly, taking in Rosaline’s expression. His face was clouded with despair and intense guilt—guilt for having failed to save him, grief for being unable to protect someone despite being called the Saintess.
“I’ve never once blamed you, Saintess.”
Yeshion gently reached out, wiping away the tears beneath Rosaline’s eyes. He opened his eyes wide in surprise at his words, to which Yeshion responded softly with a smile.
“Rather, I felt grateful. Because you stayed beside me, reading fairytales, when I couldn’t even move.”
