Chapter 7: Accomplice

I opened my eyes—realizing I could “open my eyes” meant control of the body was mine again.

The room was pitch black.

I quietly got up, hearing steady breathing nearby.

By the moonlight streaming through the window, I saw the blonde girl sleeping soundly beside me.

This room had only two beds, one large, one small.

With Kritiya taking one, Diya had to squeeze in here.

My stomach growled—I felt it churning.

Even though I’d smelled the oat porridge earlier, Kritiya had no appetite.

I worried she’d starve herself to death.

But I could feel her emotions.

The poor girl was probably confused, terrified, and helpless.

Her last conscious memory was the old maid’s death and her futile crossbow shot.

“But… I can’t just let her go hungry…”

My limbs felt weak as I slowly scooted to the bed’s edge and got up, glancing at the sleeping girl—good, I didn’t wake her.

I tiptoed to the kitchen.

I lifted the lid of the clay pot on the stove, revealing the oat porridge inside.

Though what I was about to do felt like stealing, if Kritiya didn’t eat, she’d only get weaker.

I stirred with a wooden spoon, finding the porridge had congealed.

I recalled a story from my past life about “cutting the porridge” to share it, but with Kritiya’s upset stomach, I thought hot food would be better.

Luckily, flint was by the stove, and some unburned wood remained in the hearth.

I crouched, striking the flint to spark a flame, but after several tries, I failed.

“What a hassle…” I thought.

There was probably an easier way to start a fire, but I didn’t want to use that power for something so trivial.

A power that demands a cost—

My persistence paid off.

After a few more strikes, the fire caught, and the porridge began to warm.

“Where are the bowls…”

I stepped onto a stool, quietly opening the cupboard, finding three clean wooden bowls.

In the ducal mansion, we used fine porcelain and silver, but these wooden bowls felt light, almost insubstantial.

“Wait… what’s that?”

I glanced over, spotting some smoked sausages in the cupboard’s corner.

“Plain porridge might be too bland…”

My stomach acid churned, and my hand reached for the sausages instinctively—

But wouldn’t this be stealing?

Hmm… Kritiya’s the duke’s daughter.

Once she’s safe, she could compensate these siblings with whatever they want—it’s not stealing, just borrowing.

I convinced myself, took the sausages, cut them into pieces with a knife on the counter, and tossed them into the warming porridge.

After heating it, I scooped the porridge into a wooden bowl.

The wooden tableware felt rough—

I thought, spooning the porridge to my mouth, feeling my stomach slowly fill.

Just then, I heard a faint cough behind me.

“Uh… I heard a noise…”

I whipped around, seeing the silhouette of the boy—probably the older sibling—at the kitchen door.

I panicked for a moment but quickly composed myself.

I couldn’t show weakness—yes, I had to act natural.

“Oh, you’re here to sneak a bite too?”

I held the porridge bowl, casually approaching him.

“No… it’s just…”

He opened his mouth to say something.

Seizing the moment, I swiftly shoved a spoonful of porridge with sausage into his mouth.

“Shh—don’t make a sound. Now you’re an accomplice!”

I deliberately gave him a big scoop with sausage, hoping it’d keep him quiet.

“Mmph!”

Caught off guard, Nolan clamped his mouth shut to keep the food from spilling.

He stepped back, stunned by the girl’s bizarre behavior.

“Wait, why’s there meat in this?”

“That’s my addition—sausage. Since you ate some, you can’t rat me out,” I said, quickly finishing the rest of the porridge.

“That’s our reserve food… Diya’s gonna complain if you just eat it…”

“Don’t be so stingy. It’ll be paid back,” I said, setting down the empty bowl.

I expected him to scold me, but instead, he sighed and gave a wry smile.

“Hm?”

I looked at the boy, who shook his head and said.

“It’s fine. I was just worried—you looked so out of it earlier.”

Feeling better?

Maybe—but it’s just me who’s perked up.

Kritiya’s still trapped in shock and grief—I thought, slowly walking out of the kitchen, gazing at the yard through the window.

“Where… is this place?” I asked quietly after a pause.

“You mean the village? This is Lotte Village. Where are you from? Someone local?” Nolan asked.

“You say Lotte Village, but how should I know where that is?” I said, a bit annoyed.

“What region?”

“The Romern region, I guess. The local lord is Baron Lokart…”

“Tch… deep in the Empire’s territory?” I thought.

I didn’t know any Baron Lokart—some minor noble—but the Romern region I knew.

It was in the northern plains of the Empire, south of Romern Forest, half a plain away from the Airandil Duchy.

I glanced at the bear’s corpse in the backyard, its dead form sprawled in the dark.

The winter night’s chill had frozen its moisture, dulling the stench—thankfully it was winter.

If the black sorcerer Ross’s plan had gone smoothly, this bear would’ve carried Kritiya to some Abyss Cult hideout, where the helpless duke’s daughter would’ve been at their mercy—

But things didn’t go that far.

Because… I broke the taboo and made a contract with the evil god.

I don’t even know the contract’s details anymore.

When I came to, all I felt was the sudden influx of black magic knowledge in my mind.

And that ominous Seed of the Evil God pulsing in my chest—

Using the knowledge the evil god granted—revolting just to recall—I undid the necromantic magic Ross had cast on the bear.

Then, overwhelmed by the mental strain, I passed out.

No doubt, it was like drinking poison to quench thirst.

But back then, I had no choice.

I couldn’t let Kritiya fall into the cult’s hands.

I could clearly sense the contract was tied only to my soul, not Kritiya’s—yes, because of my mistake.

Knowing Ross was a dangerous lunatic, I carelessly tipped off the old maid, provoking him to act early…

So, I alone should bear the cost.

That’s fitting.

Nolan found it odd.

The girl stood silently by the window, moonlight filtering through the shutter slats, making her gray hair shimmer like silver.

“It’s drafty there—you’ll catch a cold,” he warned.

The girl turned, giving him a faint, ethereal smile.

“It’s fine—”

“By the way… what’s your name?”

There were so many other questions—where are you from?

How did you end up in a bear’s stomach?

Do you have family?

But somehow, at that moment, Nolan felt compelled to ask this one.

“My name? Hm… I don’t really have the right to claim it, but you can call me Kritiya.”

“Anyway, please take care of Kritiya.”

The gray-haired girl tossed out the words lightly and walked back to the bedroom.

Though her phrasing was odd, Nolan committed the name to memory.

“So… Kritiya, huh?”