Chapter 7 - Greatness Awaits

  “Is there anything you want to do in particular?” I wondered, staring at the side of Nigel’s head.

  “You live here. What’s fun?” he responded with a smile.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I usually hunt or practice sword fighting. I don’t really—”

  I tripped.

  Nigel caught my shoulder. “Whoa there! Are you okay?”

  “I-I’m fine!” I stuttered quickly.

  “It’s your hair, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely not,” I lied. Because it definitely was. It was like walking through the world while staring through a black piece of paper with tiny slits cut out of it. I hadn’t gotten used to it since giving myself the style. Every part of me wanted to trim the shit, but then everyone would see my eyes. It wasn’t like I could wear a blindfold in public. That’d be more suspicious if anything.

  “Okay,” chimed Nigel, clearly skeptical. “Come on! There has to be something here you like! Every place has its customs and shops. Even woodworkers here are different from those in other towns. Sure, they do the same job, but they’re different people. That’s the beauty of traveling! So much to do, so much to see!”

  I couldn’t understand his enthusiasm. In practice, I could comprehend his words. Even using his example, one woodcutter might prefer to chop all his wood first and then haul it in several trips, while another might choose to cut as much as he can carry, haul that load, and then return to work. It depended on the individual. But at the end of the day, they were still chopping wood.

  “You seem like someone with a lot of friends,” I chimed, recognizing his superior optimism and social skills compared to myself.

  “I try to make one or two every place I visit,” replied Nigel with a smile. He nudged me. “One down!”

  For some reason, I wanted to trip him.

  “You like swords, right?” he followed up. “Why don’t we go into town and look at some?”

  “I already have a new one. I don’t have a codex or coins even if I did,” I argued. “What would be the point?”

  “It’s fun to look at cool things even if you don’t buy them, isn’t it?”

  We glanced at each other as if the other person lacked an essential aspect of humanity. To be fair, Nigel’s view was likely more accurate than my own.

  “If that’ll make you happy.” I muscled up a smile. This was honestly the first time I’ve socialized with someone outside of my family. I mean, I played with some kids before my ears got revealed, but it wasn’t complex or stressful. They didn’t talk much and only wanted to play. It was a good excuse for me to run around and get some exercise. I was all for it.

  I don’t think I’m interesting enough to talk to. I felt as I watched Nigel bound ahead, leading the way toward the blacksmith, even though I was supposedly showing him around. If I didn’t hide so much about my past, I’d be far more interesting. But what should I say? I died, lost my memories, got sent to these lands by some sarcastic bitch of a God, was born an archdevil, watched my parents die, grew up in a small town, got hated by everyone for looks I couldn’t control, started growing horns, then awakened with white eyes. Anyways, how’s your day going?

  I was so stuck in my head I didn’t even notice Nigel talking to me.

  “My brother came by here the day after we arrived,” said Nigel as we passed the blacksmith. We’d finally arrived in the town’s central—and only—market. “He said the stuff here was good quality and affordable even with the town’s size.”

  A burly older man with large muscles was hammering away at the forge. The noises were loud, but he heard Nigel speaking through the rhythmic banging. His head flicked up. “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t think a small town like this can produce shit that’s worth a damn?”

  “N-No! That’s not what I meant!” Nigel immediately became defensive and flustered. He lowered his head. “H-He was just surprised, is all. That such a good store was in this small town, you know?”

  “What’s the difference, brat?”

  “I don’t know what to say!” shouted Nigel.

  Harkin snorted. He glanced at me. “You walking around with this little shit?”

  “Yup,” I replied.

  “What for?” asked the blacksmith. He smiled at Nigel. “You fancy the girl, lad?”

  “Wh-What?!”

  “Poor Quintin’s gonna kill yah when he finds out. Bet he didn’t think he’d ever have to deal with this type of thing.”

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  “Deal with what kind of thing?” I asked in a cold voice.

  Harkin flinched. “Nothing, girl.”

  I dropped it, but I knew what he meant. The odds of me finding love in this town, if I ever wanted that, were basically zero. But that was a future problem if a problem at all. I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest.

  Harkin continued to grill Nigel. I couldn’t blame him. Nigel made a lot of funny faces, and his reactions were incredible. He didn’t have much self-confidence. It was no wonder Barcus left him behind. I couldn’t imagine Nigel attacking something in earnest. He seemed very weak. Nice, but weak.

  “Let me end your suffering,” I said as Nigel frantically tried to escape the situation. I grabbed his arm and started pulling him away from the store. “I’m hungry. Let’s get bread. You can make your codex, right?”

  “O-Oh.” Nigel was stunned. He glanced at how I was holding, peeked back at Harkin, shook his head, and allowed me to keep pulling him. “I can.”

  “And you have coins?”

  “I do.” He paused. “Is this bread good?”

  “Very good.”

  Moments later, we were sharing a loaf while leaning up against a wall in a small alley in town. Nigel rambled on about his sword training. I focused wholly on the fluffy white loaf I was stuffing in my mouth. Hints of honey danced on my tongue as I enjoyed the fluffy mess.

  “You like to eat, huh?” questioned Nigel once he realized I wasn’t listening.

  “It’s either that or die,” I replied bluntly without looking at him. “If I could go without it, I probably would. Very inconvenient.”

  “Oh. Are you full?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not.” Nigel snatched the loaf from me mid-bite. “You’ve eaten all you needed. I’m still hungry. I deserve it.”

  “H-hey!” My fingers reached out for my food.

  “I thought you didn’t like eating?”

  I blushed slightly. “It’s delicious, though.”

  Nigel recoiled. “Oh wow.”

  “W-What?”

  “Your ears light up when you get embarrassed.” He tapped my ear. “Red right on the tips.”

  I snatched my bread back in his moment of folly and stuffed the rest of it in my mouth, victorious.

  Nigel just stared at me.

  I felt myself begin to choke.

  “You need some water?”

  I nodded rapidly.

  After I survived the bread, Nigel pulled me back into town. He pointed at places and asked questions. I gradually realized that every time I said, “I don’t know” or “I’m not sure,” he had a tidbit of information to tell me.

  It was how I knew I was definitely missing something within myself. I didn’t give a damn about a single thing he was saying. Seemed like an absolute waste of time.

  “You know, you mutter to yourself a lot,” said Nigel, once again breaking me from my thoughts. “You prefer time by yourself, don’t you? People aren’t really your thing.”

  “Why?” My eyes narrowed. “Because I don’t know anyone or anything?”

  “Kind of,” admitted Nigel. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Like I kind of said before, the world’s full of all kinds of people. That’s what makes it interesting.”

  All I could do was frown. I didn’t even acknowledge his words. We just kept walking.

  It’s weird. Conceptually, I know what it’s like to feel happiness or sadness, but those emotions just don’t reach me. I realized. My past me must have felt those things because I can remember what it means to be happy, but I can’t actually feel it. It’s like my soul has a glass wall in front of it, keeping it out of reach of anything raw or real. I didn’t realize this before. Have I felt anything at all this decade? I paused, glancing at Nigel out of the corner of my eyes. Maybe that’s really why I went out with this child today. So I could get some hints from him.

  A part of me wanted to blame Eve. It felt like I was overthinking things, which was entirely possible. At the same time, I kept noticing little things. I was cognizant of others. I could barely remember their faces. The only people I had a relationship with in any form were people who gave me stuff, provided me services, or cared for me. I didn’t have an interest in anyone and certainly didn’t reciprocate. Even the devils I’ve seen weren’t really people in my eyes. They were examples I was trying to imitate. Nothing more. I—

  Something wet touched the back of my neck. I immediately shrieked and bolted forward.

  The back of my neck was damp with water. The entire top part of my shirt was soaked.

  Nigel smiled at me. Water glistened on his palm. “Paying attention now?”

  “Yo-yo-you….you asshole!” I shouted. “Why would you do that?!”

  “Saying your name didn’t help, and you kept ignoring me,” whined Nigel with a playful grin. “I hate being ignored. Hurts my feelings.”

  “But—”

  A villager stepped in between us and faced me. Her arms crossed her chest, and she wore a haughty grin though fear dotted her eyes. “Get away from him, you little bastard,” the woman growled.

  I flinched, but I wasn’t surprised. I recognized the woman. She was one of the people who kept calling me a “monster” under her breath whenever I was out with my parents. Her name was Annette, and she was a right bitch.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Step back, devil!” Annette raised her hand. Tiny flames flickered between her fingers. “Make another move toward the boy, and I’ll slap yah!”

  I paused. My gaze was trained on her fingers. She’s a threat. I need to kill her. The thought hit me instantly, surprising me.

  “Hi!” Nigel peeked out from behind the woman, put his hand on her arm, guided it down, and smiled in her face. “How about you mind your own fucking business?”

  Annette and I both flinched.

  “You—” started the woman.

  “Yen is my friend. You’re bothering us. Go away.” Nigel shooed her off.

  “I-I never!”

  Nigel grabbed my arm and started pulling me away. He then froze. Sighing, he turned back to the woman. “I’m sorry. You don’t know better, and you’re not very cultured. My brother says that to rude people sometimes. He says…if they’d grown up somewhere else, maybe they wouldn’t suck. I’m sorry you turned out like this.” He bowed reverently. “The world is bigger than this village. Be more open to stuff. You’ll be happier.” He turned on his heel, grabbed my elbow, and guided me away again.

  “You said you’re twelve?” I muttered as we walked away.

  Nigel grinned. “Strict parents. Lots of reading. Lots of traveling. Nosy brother.” He paused. “But it sounded cool, didn’t it?”

  I was about to ask him something else, but a strange prickling sensation crawled across my skin—like I was being watched too closely.

  The next moment, Nigel disappeared from my side.

  I smacked right into something large and tough.

  I looked up at the source: a devil. He was a massive beast devil. Behind him, a forest devil and a brown-haired woman in lewd clothing looked down at me.

  Turning my neck, I saw Quintin standing with a smiling adventurer and a dreary-looking one at this side.

  The smiling guy was holding Nigel by the collar of his shirt as he squirmed. “Whoa there, little brother. Very dramatic show back there.”