Demon Sword - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

As the sun set, Vermain summoned Jan to his room. Jan was grinning the whole conversation.

“Some good news?”

“No, nothing, nothing at all. Heh, heh.”

Jan couldn’t help but chuckle as he answered.

“Well, anyways… I’ve concluded Count Lant to likely not be a mage. Our business here is done.”

“Wait, we’re leaving already?”

“It wouldn’t be polite to overstay their hospitality.”

“Umm, but…….”

Jan seemed to hesitate. Vermain stared at Jan.

“Do you need to use the bathroom or something? If you want to say something, spit it out.”

“Well, you seem, I’m in a sticky situation.”

“A sticky situation?”

“I think Count Lant’s youngest daughter has a crush on me. What if she comes after me? She might run away from home to follow her love.”

“The youngest daughter…. You’re saying miss Clovelle has a crush on you?”

Vermain narrowed his eyes as he stroked his chin.

“Yep. I’m not sure what to do. I never imagined girls would love me so much.”

“Hmm, I had thought highly of you, but not in the regards to attracting women. An unexpected turn of events.”

Jan rubbed his nose, smiling awkwardly.

“Sir, do you think I perhaps have some talent for this type of stuff?”

“I wouldn’t think so, but… A woman’s heart is unpredictable.”

Jan looked out the window. It was dark out. He remembered how Clovelle had said she wanted to meet at night.

“I’m going to return to my room, sir. Have a good night.”

Vermain nodded, and as Jan was about to leave, he said,

“Jan, sleep with your sword under your pillow.”

“What?”

“A sword is like a lover. Always keep it by your side.”

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jan went back to his room. It wasn’t too dark, thanks to the moonlight.

‘But where did she mean we should meet? My room or hers?’

Jan sat on his bed and thought a little more. Clovelle had said she would meet him at night, but she hadn’t given him any specifics.

“S-she did mean that, right?”

He brought a finger to his lips. The sensations were fresh in his mind. He never knew such soft things existed in the world.

Jan didn’t lie down, but just stared blankly out the window towards the moon. He kept his ears perked up for any sounds outside, in case Clovelle came.

Jan rocked from side to side. The bedpost swayed and creaked.

‘Should I go to her? What if she gets the wrong idea?’

His mind raced. Jan’s continued to stand up and down indecisively.

“A man can’t be so scared when a lady has called him.”

Jan firmly stood up. If Clovelle wasn’t coming, he would go find her. Unless Count Lant was actually a mage, Jan’s days here were numbered.

Creak.

Jan opened the door cautiously and peered into the dark hallway. He was about to step out through the door when he stopped to focus on a sound.

The silence of the night made even the smallest sounds echo loudly.

Tap, Tap, Tap.

Footsteps Jan could barely make out if he concentrated.

Jan stared into the darkness of the hallway. In the moonlight that shone through the windows, Clovelle was walking towards him. Wearing only a thin coat, her steps were cautious.

Thump, thump, thump,

Jan clutched his hand to his chest, as he was trying to grasp the pounding of his heart. Even now, He wanted to run towards her and grasp her.

“Shhh, we’ll get in trouble if we get caught.”

Clovelle smiled mischievously as she lifted her finger to her mouth, strolling into Jan’s room. Her steps were light as those of a fae.

“I was going to go looking if you didn’t come.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to do.”

“Is what you’re doing now not dangerous?”

“I guess it is. We’re playing with fire. But are you going to leave your guest standing like this?”

It was the first time Jan was alone with a girl in a room. Jan’s eyes trembled, unable to stay in one place. He pulled back a chair for her to sit in.

“Please, sit here.”

“I’d rather sit somewhere…softer.”

“Somewhere softer…? Ah.”

Jan stared at the bed. Clovelle walked past him and sat down on the bed.

Tap, tap.

Clovel patted the bedsheets, inviting him to join her. Jan was leaking cold sweat while frozen in place. His collar was already soaked.

‘There’s a girl, a girl… that’s as pretty an angel beckoning me to the bed.’

It almost felt unreal.

“This isn’t a dream, right?”

“Do I look like something out of a dream to you?”

“That’d be a stroke of luck, because you’re more beautiful than any woman I’ve could ever imagine.”

Clovelle put her hand to her mouth and laughed. Jan smiled back, awkwardly.

‘This is a good mood, right?’

Jan sat down, with a bit of distance between them. Clovelle tilted her head as she gazed at Jan. Her hair flowed down gently.

“Why sit so far away?”

“Oh, I-I, uh…”

“Do you want me to come closer? Or do you want to come to me?”

“Right this instant.”

Jan scooched his hips to get closer to Clovelle.

‘She smells good.’

It was the smell of fuzzy skin. Jan took a deep breath. If he let his guard down, it felt like he’d lose all reason instantly.

“C-can’t you keep a little distance? I feel like I-I could become an animal, at this rate.”

“All men are animals, and I love to tame beasts.”

Clovelle placed her hand on top of Jan’s. Their fingers seemed to brush together at first, then laced.

“You are a curious man, Jan.”

“What do you mean, curious?”

“And I think it’s a good thing you’re such an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot…… Ow!”

Jan looked at his hand, blood drawn. He had been pricked by something.

“It’s a poison that could kill a stallion, Jan.”

Clovelle flicked her ringed finger. Beneath the ring was a tiny needle. The tip of the needle was glistening with a colorless poison.

“Uh, why, ugh? uh, ah?”

Jan scrambled to his feet and staggered. He could bring himself up from his knees. His whole body felt paralyzed but also like it was on fire. His breathing became ragged, and soon it became hard to breathe at all.

“I’ll stay with you until you die. Sigh, if my magic had worked, it wouldn’t have come to this. A pity. When you die, you can brag in the afterlife that you were kissed by the woman to be known as the pearl of the empire.”

Clovelle smirked down at Jan.

Jan squirmed and scratched on the floor. The blood vessels on his neck protruded outwards.

“You’re lasting longer than I expected. Nice to see someone so healthy.”

Clovelle’s smile hadn’t changed from earlier in the day, but it felt cold.

‘It hurts, it hurts like hell. It hurts so bad, I think I’m going to die.’

Jan felt his fever rise. He couldn’t breathe. And yet, his vision was spinning and he wanted to puke.

‘This is the first time I’ve ever been this sick. No, I guess it’s the second time.’

Jan had been this sick just before his mother died. Tears welled up in Jan’s eyes as he thought of his mother.

“Jan? Are you crying? Does it hurt that much?”

Jan wriggled as if in a seizure. Clovelle’s smile slowly turned into a frown. Jan wasn’t dying, despite time passing.

“You’re so clingy. Why won’t you die? Just give up. What’s the point of living your ugly, miserable life?”

More time passed, but Jan did not die. Clovelle, grown impatient, stabbed him again and again with the ring’s needle.

“Die! Just! Die! Why won’t you die, you ugly thing?”

Jan’s body shuddered every prick. The pricks swelled purple.

But Jan wasn’t dying. It wasn’t ineffective, but the poison was unable to take his life. Panicked, Clovelle looked around the room and grabbed Jan’s sword from the bedside.

Shrrrng.

The cold steel blade faintly glowed. Clovelle stumbled under the weight.

Barely balancing herself, she raised the sword high.

“Iya! Just die!”

Clovelle tried to strike Jan’s head.

Klang!

It was a clumsy attack. The blade struck the ground instead, cutting off a bit of Jan’s hair.

“Why is this thing so heavy? Ah, fuck.”

Clovelle lifted the sword as best as she could, heaving her shoulders. She brought the tip of the blade to Jan’s chest, attempting to stab him in the heart.

Jan, who she’d thought was immobile, reached out.

Grasp!

Jan yanked Clovelle by her ankle, making her lose her balance and dropping the sword.

“H-how?”

Jan threw up a mixture of puke and blood. Everything was felt chaotic, but he still was holding onto Clovell’s ankle.

‘That made me feel a bit better.’

He was not yet strong enough to stand up. Only a little of his arm strength had returned. Jan pulled Clovelle and climbed atop of her.

“The fever of love…… ugh, urgh.”

Jan muttered as he puked up blood. Vomit and blood pooled between Clovelle’s cleavage.

Fear crept across Clovelle’s face. Her usual smile faltered.

“J-Jan?”

“…is over.”

Jan clenched his fist and slammed it into Clovelle’s face.

Crunch!

Clovelle’s dainty nose broke. Clovelle groaned as her tried to cover her face. Jan jerked her arm moved her arm away and smashed her face once more.

“A witch deserves a crooked nose.”

Clovelle’s broken front teeth were lodged in Jan’s fist. Her already broken nose twisted further out of place.

The pearl of the empire, shattered.