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TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL HARASSMENT

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“Master, do you know how to preserve flowers for a long time?”

“Where’s that coming from, all of a sudden?”

“To keep flowers fresh, you just need to add a spoonful of sugar to the vase. Surprisingly, it keeps the flowers from wilting.”

This was a new piece of knowledge for me.

Ber, who had been circling the vase on the table, plopped down and continued, grooming himself with a pink tongue.

“If Jerome’s body is the vase and his soul is the flower, then your soul, Master, is like that spoonful of sugar. Mixing your pure soul into the dying soul of that mongrel is what would preserve it.”

“…I don’t think my soul is exactly pure.”

“What are you talking about! You are the chosen vessel of Maya and the one true master of the divine dragon, Bermut. I can sense it. My Master possesses a soul as clear and pure as a lake, unlike other humans.”

Ber, visibly upset, yelled out.

Why he was so angered by the notion that my soul might not be pure was beyond me.

He crossed his arms, grumbling.

“But there’s one problem. The soul-mixing ritual can make the recipient extremely unstable. They might feel violated by the intrusion of an unfamiliar soul or even go berserk.”

“So you’re saying…”

“Yes, in other words, there’s a chance Jerome could lose his senses and attack. That’s why this ritual has a rather low success rate. The merging of souls is practically a miracle.”

I sighed at Ber’s words.

Of course, it wasn’t called “high risk, high reward” for nothing.

If successful, the ritual was incredibly effective, but it came with significant dangers.

I muttered in a calm voice.

“So there’s a chance I could die instead of Jerome.”

“If he harbors a strong aversion to others, then yes…”

“What would I need to do to get Jerome to accept my soul willingly?”

“That’s for you to figure out, Master.”

I gave Ber’s head a quick smack, annoyed at his smug smile.

While he whimpered, clutching his crown, I sank into thought.

If we were in the capital, we could probably have asked the temple for a safer method, but this was the northern region.

Even if we waited for someone from the temple to come, there was no guarantee Jerome would survive until then.

I raised my hand to touch Jerome’s forehead.

“Damn it. His fever’s even worse.”

A wave of sentiment washed over me as memories of everything I’d gone through with Jerome since being drawn into this novel played in my mind.

Jerome, who’d smack my mouth to make “ah-wah-wah” noises when I cried, Jerome, who’d grab my backside and claim Ber did it, Jerome, who’d get strangely excited when I punched him in the stomach out of frustration.

I thought, grimacing.

“…Uh? Maybe I should just let him die?”

Even in this sentimental moment, the bad memories seemed to outweigh the good ones.

“Do I really need to risk my life to save him?” an inner demon whispered, and I shook my head to ward off the thought.

Sure, there had been plenty of times I wanted to tear him apart out of rage, but Jerome had also saved me from danger on several occasions.

Absentmindedly, I ran a hand over the protruding bone of his brow as I checked his temperature.

“Either way, I can’t afford to risk my life. My goal is to survive this novel.”

I couldn’t deny that it was a selfish thought.

Jerome had done so much for me, yet here I was, contemplating abandoning him when he needed help.

Though Ber claimed I possessed a clean soul unlike others, I couldn’t agree.

I was just as self-centered as anyone else, valuing my life over others’.

Just as I was about to pull my hand away, Jerome, who’d been asleep, suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Jeanne.”

Startled by his low, hoarse voice, I froze.

Jerome, who’d been asleep this whole time, slowly opened his eyes and met mine, offering a faint smile.

He brought my hand to his cheek.

“I know what you’re struggling with.”

“…”

“You don’t have to do it.”

I’d assumed he was unconscious, but he must have heard my conversation with Ber.

Somehow, his words made my heart sink, so I responded with a teasing tone, covering my unease.

“You’re just saying that so you can hate me later, aren’t you?”

I expected a snarky reply, but Jerome merely stared at me in silence.

The grip on my wrist slowly loosened as he closed his eyes again, murmuring as if in passing.

“There’s nothing in you to hate.”

An alarm clock I’d never set started ringing obnoxiously.

Ber frantically turned it off, hugging it to his chest as he looked over at me and fell silent.

Watching Jerome sleep, I turned to Ber and spoke, my voice slightly trembling.

“Ber, tell me more about that divine ritual.”

✽ ✽ ✽

The divine ritual Ber explained was surprisingly simple.

I just had to draw a magic circle on both our hands and place mine over Jerome’s heart to allow the ritual to take hold.

As a precaution, I asked Ber to set a strong barrier around us.

If the ritual failed and Jerome went on a rampage, the entire area would be destroyed.

It seemed better to risk only our lives rather than everyone’s.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have made such a dangerous choice.

I’d likely be terrified, but for some reason, I felt oddly calm.

My only thought was to free Jerome from the torturous existing ritual and replace it with a new one.

Kneeling over Jerome, I began unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time.

My hands trembled, knowing this was a matter of life and death.

“The moment I erase the old ritual, Mephisto’s power will explode uncontrollably. Before he’s consumed, I have to make him accept my soul somehow. But how?”

It was impossible to grasp how to make him willingly accept my soul.

According to Ber, the more guarded a person was, the harder it was for their soul to merge with another.

And Jerome was the type who had been confined in a dark, damp underground prison by those he had trusted for years.

There was no way that Jerome would readily accept anyone else into his heart.

“But… I don’t want Jerome to die like this.”

In the dark room, by the dim light of an oil lamp, I slowly took off Jerome’s shirt.

Under the faint glow, his well-toned physique was exposed.

The setup made it feel as though I were attacking someone in their sleep.

Facing Mephisto terrified me, and I wanted to stop right there, but I forced myself to review the plan with a gulp of dry spit.

On the back of my right hand was a magic circle to erase the previous holy incantations, while on my left was a magic circle to engrave a new one.

The plan was to first remove the existing holy symbols with my right hand, then imprint my soul onto Jerome’s heart using the new magic circle on my left hand.

I spread my right hand into the air and murmured the incantation, watching as the ancient symbols etched into Jerome’s skin floated up one by one.

I felt a brief sense of relief as the holy incantations faded, but it was short-lived; Jerome, who had been fast asleep, slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze met mine, his eyes narrowing into a sly smile.

“Well, well, look at this.”

Before I could gather my senses, he seized a handful of my hair.

Jerome’s hair began to turn black, as if Mephisto were taking over now that the previous holy symbols had been removed.

When I urgently tried to place my left hand over his heart, he grabbed my wrist with a force that nearly brought tears to my eyes and pulled me close, our faces inches apart.

“No, no. I finally got my strength back. Do you think I’d fall for such a cheap trick?”

“Let go! Let go of me!”

“But now that I look at you… quite fetching.”

His eyes scanned my face with a glint that was both sticky and penetrating.

He was Jerome, yet he felt like an entirely different person.

My left wrist twisted with a sickening crunch under his grip, and I pulled back from the blinding pain, only for Jerome to yank it even harder, as if mocking my attempt to escape.

“For a human woman, you do have a pleasing face. Here’s an idea—I’ll spend all night using you. Then, when Jerome regains control, he’ll wake up to find he’s violated you.”

My heart pounded.

This was exactly how Mephisto had manipulated the relationship between Jerome and Jeanne in the original story.

I wanted to escape, but the pain in my broken wrist left me powerless.

Jerome’s soft laugh and mocking expression filled the air as he brought his lips to my neck.

“You made me suffer a huge loss, so isn’t it fair for me to take some compensation?”

His hand brushed across my chest, tugging open the tie of my clothes, exposing my skin to the cold air.

I shivered as his long, disheveled hair tangled with his fingers.

When his hand slipped beneath my undergarments and touched me, my mind went blank with shock.

Seeing my terrified expression, Jerome whispered, almost amused.

“Ah, so you’re a man. No wonder. You’re awfully resistant for one of Jerome’s little toys.”

“…”

“Save yourself the trouble. I’m not going to pretend to be gentle, like he would.”

His hand slid lower, pressing against me.

Without any warning, his finger pushed in, and my whole body shook.

The pain rivaled—or even surpassed—the agony in my broken wrist.

It felt like I was tearing apart with each movement, making it impossible to twist away.

“It… it hurts…”

My voice, tinged with a trembling sob, slipped out involuntarily.

I tried to raise my body to ease the pain, but it was useless.

His fingers dug into me roughly, prying me open without a shred of care.

He inserted another finger, sending a cry from my lips as my back arched instinctively.

His strong arms wrapped tightly around my torso, holding me close.

“Oh, you’re crying? Are you enjoying this? Just relax, don’t bother sitting up.”

Jerome laughed against my ear, moving his fingers faster inside me.

His thick fingers scraped against my inner walls mercilessly as he pried my hips apart.

Dizzy from the mind-numbing pain, I rested my forehead against his shoulder.

He grabbed my hair and forced me to look up.

“Well, well. You played me well. Now, answer me. How do you think Jerome will react when he finds out? When he realizes the woman he was so enamored with is, in fact, a man?”

“…”

“Answer me. You deceived Jerome. You took pleasure in watching him fall for your lies.”

I curled up, shaking from the gnawing ache in my lower body.

Unlike the time I had shared a tender moment with Jerome, this was a relentless agony, far from any pleasure.

Desperate, I used my right arm to weakly wrap around his neck.

“No… It wasn’t like that.”

The hand in my hair paused.

I struggled to ignore the pain tearing through me, trying to remember how to bring Jerome back.

I brushed my lips against his, letting out a soft whisper under his cold gaze.

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