Chapter 49: Redemption

"Hello, my name is Monica."
......
"Then we were born to be half your subjects."
......
"We will both pledge our loyalty to you from now on—though you never said whether it was the first half or the second."
......
The girl spun around, her emerald eyes shining like brilliant gems.
She seemed to be smiling all the time; the depression and agony weighing down the other banshees were nowhere to be found in her. She was born to be a ray of sunlight piercing the deep sea.
On the distorted flesh, an eye blinked open, and murky tears slid down.
Why does it hurt so much...
Pain is an illusion of the mind.
Monica told herself.
She twisted and squeezed herself like a wrung-out towel, squeezing out a few smiles, a few shreds of happiness, for her kinsfolk enduring such hardship.
This was the only thing she could do. Those unspeakable pains and the hollow, barren depths of her heart could just be kept for herself.
She swallowed them down into her belly, alongside cold, hard food and bitter seawater.
The flesh is the prison of the soul.
She was imprisoned here, in perpetual darkness.
Fortunately, she was about to die soon.
She hadn't been in this world for very long, but she had already made up her mind.
She wouldn't come back next time.
Enslavement, endless grueling labor.
Partings, watching her kin leave her one by one.
The tribe had been saved, the curse had vanished, and her world had finally found light—
The little girl raised her head.
The swollen, twisted monster looked around in bewildered confusion, then looked at itself.
So that was it. Redemption was merely an illusion.
Life is a painful illusion.
Just an illusion.
Monica closed her eyes once more.
Don't open them again. Let it end like this.

She had long since known what this world was like; everyone had their own suffering, and wherever she looked, there were only tortured souls.
She was getting a bit tired of watching.
It would be over soon. Very soon.
Suddenly, she felt something touch her.
She didn't want to care anymore, but after a moment of hesitation, she opened her eyes.
The whole world was somewhat blurred, and shadowy figures stood around her—they were so small.
A chaotic murmur, like sleepy whispers by the ear, sounded vague and distant, as if separated from the world by a thick layer of frosted glass, unclear and indistinct.
Following the sensation on her body, she looked at the tiny figure upon her.
The next moment, she met Hugh's gaze.
He said nothing at all, but the instant she saw those eyes, Monica understood his meaning—
"I have come to save you."
A ray of light pierced into the tiny cage.
The glass shattered instantly, and a crystal-clear voice resounded within her heart. Her dim green eyes widened abruptly.
"Contract—Symbiosis!"
Monica blankly yielded to his intent, and by the time she realized what was happening, the pact had already been sealed.
"No!!!"
She cried out in alarm, watching with sheer terror as the corruption surged along the bond and poured straight into Hugh's body.
It was over. He was going to be contaminated. Monica knew how terrifying that corruption was, yet her lord was merely a mortal.
But the next second, the rushing corruption rebounded at a speed far faster than it had arrived. Monica watched in a daze; why did she feel as though the corruption inside her was... afraid?
Immediately afterward, a torrent of life force surged from Hugh's body along the contract. That scorching vitality poured like boiling water over snow, causing the corruption clinging to her to instantly disintegrate in a roar.
Oh no, Hugh was just a mortal! Where on earth did he get so much life force? He would... he would...
Monica looked up at Hugh, only to see him break into a smile, showing not the slightest sign of exhaustion.
"Ah!"
Monica suddenly let out a cry of pain as the swollen flesh on her body rapidly retracted. The corruption burst through her skin, tearing countless tiny holes, and she hovered on the brink of death in an instant.
Yet the surging life force seemed utterly boundless. Wherever it flowed, the wounds were healed, and the corruption shrieked as it scattered and fled in all directions.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!!!!"
Monica screamed as she felt herself being crushed—crushed and restored all at once. She wanted to pass out, but was utterly unable to do so; the overwhelming vitality forced her awake the very moment she lost consciousness.
Sitting dazedly within her fleshly prison, Monica suddenly saw someone push open the door. Before she knew it, her lord Hugh was standing at the threshold.
From that moment on, everything changed.
Blood and tears fell mixed together, and her swollen body gradually returned to its original form under the tug-of-war between corruption and vitality. She and Hugh fell from the air, only to be caught by pairs of outstretched hands.

Monica looked dazedly into the faces of her kin.
"Sister Ash... Nini... Lord... what happened..."
The past was an illusion, the pain was an illusion, the flesh was an illusion, and life was an illusion as well. Fragmented scenes and memories intertwined, leaving Monica temporarily unable to tell reality from dream.
Yet, after a moment's thought, she smiled with a sense of release.
The warmth welling up in her heart right now was no illusion. That was enough.
The corruption inside her wailed frantically, squeezed into the open air before fleeing wildly in all directions, as if something terrifying lurked here, driving the black contamination to escape at any cost.
The banshees surrounded Monica and Hugh. Right then, they didn't even need a mental link to feel each other's surging emotions.
They tossed Hugh and Monica high into the air, caught them, and wept and laughed in celebration.
In the distance came a muffled rumble of thunder. Dark clouds gathered, and rain began to fall.
Not far away, Connor helped Nora to her feet. With some difficulty, Nora braced herself up, looking at the celebrating banshees in the distance, and a weak smile touched her lips.
"Castell, fire and light amidst the storm..."
For some reason, this desolate and secluded island gave her a strange, unfamiliar sense of belonging.
The banshees spotted her as well, and they gradually closed in around her.
Hugh walked up to her. His once exquisite and luxurious garments were now tattered, stained with blood, and caked with mud from the ground.
He extended his hand toward Nora.
"I am in no position to sign any contract with you," Nora said with a numb expression. "And I did not save Castell."
"But your blood has also been spilled upon this land, and so this place shall be your home as well."
Hugh firmly grasped her hand. Blood and mud could not prevent their hands from meeting.
"A friendship forged in blood needs no witness of a contract."
Nora stared blankly at Hugh.
"My name is Hugh Corsica Simmons Stuart, Border Earl of Castell in the Holy Mill Empire. By virtue of the Sacred Covenant and Her Imperial Majesty's letters patent, I am the rightful lord of this domain, and I hereby make this vow:"
"Castell shall forever keep its doors open to the people of the North, and this place shall be your home."
"You are no longer refugees. You need wander no longer."
"Welcome home."
The torrential rain poured down, washing the grime from her armor and drenching her hair.
Rainwater fell into Nora's eyes, and though she frantically wiped them away, the tears would not stop.