In pure darkness, Eze’s consciousness didn’t dissipate as expected but slowly began to return.
The moment he realized this, he thought he might be in some kind of afterlife.
After all, he’d died once before crossing over, so such a place wouldn’t be surprising.
Whatever, he was dead—napping for a few decades or centuries wouldn’t hurt, right?
He was just too tired.
But soon, Eze felt his body, along with the soft sensation beneath him and on his face.
Something was off.
He snapped his eyes open, but it was still pitch black—a soft, heavy, warm object was pressing right over his eyes.
“Uh… what?”
“Hm? Awake already? Pretty quick.”
Velrian’s familiar voice came from somewhere above.
Realizing something, Eze jolted upright as if shocked, scrambling to the side.
With his vision restored, he finally grasped the situation.
He was in what looked like a bedroom, exquisitely decorated.
The large bed beneath him, the ornate furnishings, and the antique vanity were all top-notch, with a faint, pleasant incense lingering.
Yes, Eze was on a bed.
Not only that, he’d been lying on Velrian’s lap, in a classic lap-pillow position.
And the thing blocking his vision?
Her… generously endowed chest.
But that wasn’t the point right now.
“Morning! Well, it’s only been about two hours, actually.”
Velrian, kneeling at the bed’s center, greeted him with a casual smile, as if chatting with a live-in boyfriend.
Eze’s mind was a mess.
“I… no, you… what the hell!?”
In his fluster, he moved clumsily, tumbling head first off the bed’s edge and crashing to the floor, momentarily paralyzed and limp.
But the fall snapped him awake, helping him process the situation.
First, he wasn’t dead.
Second, Velrian had brought him somewhere.
Did she resort to kidnapping since her recruitment pitch failed?
For a demon leader, that’s a bit too crude.
Eze rubbed the swollen spot on his head, sighed, and leapt up, pointing at her:
“Velrian, what the hell are you… hm?”
A slight sense of oddity made him pause.
He moved his limbs, rubbed his chest, and confirmed the source.
The injuries from the instant-death curse were completely healed, and even his hero’s blessing seemed restored—his body felt remarkably light.
This threw Eze off, and he stared at her, dumbfounded.
“What… what’s your deal?”
Velrian, smiling, tilted her head, clearly planning to play dumb to the end.
“What’s what?”
“Don’t play dumb! Why heal me? Why am I still alive? Where is this place? What do you want?”
In two years as a hero, Eze had never been this confused.
Questions poured out like rapid-fire at Velrian’s face.
“Too many questions. Hm Let’s see, how should I answer?”
Velrian kept her easygoing smile, shifting from the bed’s center to its edge to sit.
“First, why save you? I said, didn’t I? Your face looked awful; it’d be bad if we didn’t fix it quick.”
Sure, she’d said that, but to Eze, it sounded like a threat to make a choice fast.
“As for why you’re alive, heh, weird question—like I wanted to kill you or something.”
Her words stunned Eze.
Their gazes locked in silence for a long moment before he squeezed out:
“…You didn’t?”
“Nope.”
“Then what was that final instant-death spell?”
“To save you, obviously. The curse you had needed you to die once to break it. So, I put you in a fake-death state, then pulled you back. Problem solved”
Do witches always play this hardcore with healing?
But since he was fully healed, it must be true.
“You say you didn’t want to kill me, but you clearly… uh?”
Eze froze, realizing something.
From the moment Velrian cornered him in the alley, aside from that last, seemingly joking recruitment attempt, she hadn’t mentioned her purpose for finding him.
Nor had she said anything about killing him.
Yet, when he asked for a quick end, she didn’t confirm—just let him assume based on common sense.
So, the conclusion? He’d been played.
“…You did that on purpose? Scaring me for fun?”
“Don’t accuse me of that, Hero. I didn’t say a word—you misunderstood on your own.”
Velrian smiled, shaking her head, then stood, crossing her arms and stepping toward Eze, abruptly changing the topic:
“But, you know, I’m one of the demon leaders, right? Supposedly someone who terrifies humans. And yet?”
“Some hero from who-knows-where doesn’t take me seriously at all. Shows up with a tiny force, and actually beats me up.”
“I barely survived, thinking, ‘If I suddenly show up in front of him, I’ll scare him senseless, right?’ Guess what?”
As she spoke, Velrian advanced with an odd pressure, backing Eze into a corner without him realizing.
Still reeling from being played, he was at a disadvantage and could only follow her lead.
“…What?”
“This guy wasn’t shocked at all. He even acted like ‘kill me, whatever.’ Rude, right? Right? Right? I’m a Great Witch—don’t I deserve some respect?”
“Uh…”
In short, she felt Eze’s calm attitude bruised her ego, so she messed with him for fun.
A demon leader, this petty?
Thud—
While Eze was still dazed, Velrian’s hand slammed the wall beside him, trapping him in a classic wall-slam.
“So, uh, what do you…”
After several unexpected twists, Eze was mentally and physically drained, his composure crumbling, lips trembling, cold sweat dripping.
Seeing this, Velrian nodded, satisfied, and patted his pale face with her free hand.
“Yup, that’s the expression I wanted You’re kinda cute, so why always so cold? Your reaction falling off the bed was pretty great too.”
Content, she finally let him go and sat back on the bed.
Eze slid down the wall, collapsing into the corner.
So tired, so sleepy, so done.
“…So, what do you want with me?”
“That’s my question for you—what do you plan to do next?”
Eze, dumbfounded for the umpteenth time, looked up to see Velrian, her smile gone, deadly serious.
“…What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Right now, I’m in a similar spot as you—a stray dog, cast out. And that’s your fault, you know. So, isn’t it fair that you take responsibility?”