TBR CH44

Edwin basically returned to the church under the cover of night.

The guards at the entrance respectfully pulled open the heavy silver-gray doors for him. His bishop’s robe carried the chill of the night’s dew.

Tal followed closely behind him, his face completely concealed. With just a fleeting glance, the guards saw only the backs of the two figures.

The bishop was not bold enough to allow a demon to show himself in the capital’s church. Once they reached a secluded area, Tal slipped into the deep shadows at the corner of the walls.

If not for the moonlight constantly bathing the world in silver-white radiance, the demon’s range of movement might have been larger.

It wasn’t until Edwin turned the doorknob that Tal silently reappeared inside his room.

The sight before them was somewhat surprising: the room was now spotless—no corpses, no bloodstains. The carpet had been replaced with a color that was a compromise between the pomegranate red suggested by the demon and the dark red Edwin originally had. It was closer to the hue of a rose.

Speaking of roses… the one Tal had folded that morning hadn’t been removed.

The person Edwin had entrusted with cleaning up had likely assumed, quite reasonably, that a rose wouldn’t be associated with a bloody murder scene. The bishop’s desk remained untouched, with a quill pen resting at the side, its tip dried of ink.

Perhaps he would need to buy a new pen holder, Edwin thought.

Tal, however, was more intrigued by the changes in the room. The demon’s polished boots pressed into the rose-colored carpet as he curiously pulled open the wardrobe to inspect its contents. Even the wardrobe had been meticulously organized and scented with perfume, an aroma that made his nose itch.

Truly remarkable.

Tal, half in jest, asked, “Bishop, have you tamed some sort of magical housekeeping sprite?”

Of course not. It was simply people he could still use.

Over the years, Edwin had provided shelter for many, and in return, they depended on him to survive. At this stage, betrayal from them was unthinkable.

While he wielded their power, he also maintained a careful distance. A weakness like summoning a demon was not something he would ever fully disclose to anyone.

If he were to lose power, anything could happen.

But for now, they still feared the consequences of betraying him. And some of them were quite useful.

Tal was flipping through Edwin’s stacks of books when he suddenly spotted a very familiar one.

The demon chuckled lazily, picking up a thick, black-covered tome and waving it at the bishop.

“Have you seen this book before?”

Edwin narrowed his eyes. It looked unfamiliar. He gestured for Tal to bring it over.

Running his fingers along the heavy black spine, he felt an eerie sensation, as though the book were… alive. Yet when he opened it, there wasn’t a single word inside. The entire book was pristine, made up of countless blank pages.

“No,” he said. “Throw it away. It might be unsafe.”

At this moment, he had no energy to waste investigating a book with no words.

Tal, however, curled his lips into an even sweeter smile. Edwin thought he heard the demon mutter something softly to the book.

If he hadn’t misheard—

“Hey, the archbishop wants to throw you away. I think that’s a great idea…”

As if possessing a will of its own, the black book twisted its spine slightly, then inexplicably began flipping its own pages. There was no wind, yet before the demon’s eyes, pure white sheets spread open.

Edwin stepped closer, still seeing nothing.

But now, he was sure—this was probably one of the demon’s tricks.

Since it belonged to Tal, he wasn’t overly concerned. Their soul contract ensured that neither could directly or indirectly harm the other. He had no reason to fear the book hiding some enemy’s scheme.

So, at this moment, what he should be doing was…

Edwin’s movements paused. Deep down, he felt the urge to sigh.

This was the second night.

Forgive him, but he still wasn’t used to it. The previous night, he hadn’t slept at all. Now, curfew had already begun, and the relentless pace of the past two days had left him exhausted.

The issue he had avoided yesterday now resurfaced, demanding resolution.

“I’m going to sleep,” Edwin said.

His gray eyes turned to the demon, who was poking at the black book’s pages. Tal raised his gaze at him with a hint of bewilderment.

“Alright…? I won’t make a sound.”

He didn’t sound too certain.

Edwin himself felt a little ridiculous reporting his intention to sleep. But his concern wasn’t about being disturbed. He lowered his gaze in thought for a moment, then drew down the deep purple bed curtains.

Indeed, it wasn’t something easy to explain.

The lights in the room flickered once before going out completely. But this did not hinder the demon’s vision.

Tal lowered his eyes to the black book, its pages now filled with words—the accumulated messages from the world’s consciousness throughout the day.

The Dark God created a small isolation barrier around them. Sounds from outside could still reach within, but no sound from inside would escape.

Tarchsus sighed, his voice carrying a low, dangerous amusement.

“You’re a little late.”

…Why was it another reprimand right from the start?

The pages of the world’s consciousness book rustled in protest. It was a little displeased but had to admit that the Dark God’s plan had succeeded.

Lines of ink appeared on the pages:

“You did well today. The system has temporarily stabilized. Next, I will conduct further observation and analysis. During this process, you may have the opportunity to encounter the protagonist’s other potential love interests and expose his true nature.”

The demon’s pupils shifted slightly. In the near-total darkness, his glass-like eyes reflected an almost imperceptible glint of cruelty.

The world’s consciousness suddenly had a bad feeling—

“I don’t think… I ever agreed to help you.”

Feeling the black book in his hand stiffen in an inorganic way, the mischievous demon was clearly satisfied with the effect of his words.

“Well, aside from sending the so-called Child of Fate and his system to their deaths, I don’t really have any other wishes at the moment. Hmm, since I’m already here, I might as well give it a reluctant try.”

The black book practically revived on the spot.

It seemed excited, as if it couldn’t believe that Tarksius had agreed to help without asking for anything in return. The demon, seeing through its thoughts, sneered.

“I can’t guarantee any results, and I won’t promise that I won’t kill the Holy Son and his foolish little love interests either.”

Foolish love interests—

The black book instinctively thought of the dragon, Adelaide. No, no, that wasn’t important. What the Dark God meant was that he wouldn’t put too much effort into this matter, since they didn’t have a strong cooperative relationship.

Well… this was acceptable.

The world consciousness deflated a little, but this was already much better than it had expected.

Just as it was about to discuss a few follow-up matters with the Dark God, it saw the other party make a silent gesture, long fingers resting against his lips. With a light flick of his other hand, the divine power that had drawn the barrier dissolved into nothingness.

…What?

For a moment, the room fell into complete silence.

Then, it heard it too—the sound of painful, panicked breaths coming from beneath the deep purple velvet canopy.

The thick and soft fabric made no noise as it was pulled aside.

Standing by the bed, Tal lowered his gaze to look at Edwin, whose sleeping face was twisted in distress.

The bishop had taken a long time to fall asleep. He had originally prepared himself to stay awake all night, but he was simply too exhausted.

Through the gap in the bed curtains, he dimly saw Tal sitting there, motionless. This gave Edwin a faint sense of reassurance, allowing his overwhelming fatigue to finally drag him into a heavy slumber.

A heavy, restless, painful, and terrifying dream.

The nightmares that haunted him every day and night arrived right on time, showing him no mercy.

When the bishop was awakened, he was clearly still disoriented. He blinked slowly and confusedly, his hand instinctively rising to press against the left side of his chest, where his heart lay.

Just now, in that bloody dream, the flesh there had been torn away, exposing stark white ribs.

He had desperately wanted to wake up, but he had almost never succeeded. This time was no exception.

That beating heart—just like trash—was about to be crushed in the hands of the monstrous entity his dream had conjured.

No, maybe this time it hadn’t happened yet.

Just a little more, and the twisted nightmare would have shattered his consciousness again.

Then, he was pulled out of it.

His gray eyes were unfocused for a moment, revealing a rare look of vulnerability.

It took Edwin a moment to realize he was no longer inside the dream. Sweat soaked his pale face, and his dark curls clung damply to his neck.

A few more moments passed before his unsteady breath gradually calmed, allowing him to clearly see the beautiful pomegranate-red eyes before him.

Tal.

His sluggish thoughts finally began to function again. The lingering shock of escape and an even deeper exhaustion flooded through his body.

Edwin, feeling somewhat embarrassed, raised a hand to cover his eyes. He was clearly still not fully awake, hastily shielding his own vulnerability without realizing that this reaction only made him appear more defenseless.

Before going to sleep, he had anticipated this possibility. He had been plagued by nightmares since he had gained self-awareness, and he suspected that the pain he suffered in dreams manifested in reality as well.

It had never mattered before—he had always lived alone. But this time was different.

He should have been prepared.

The bishop took a deep breath, his deep gray pupils regaining their usual calm. If it hadn’t been for Tal, he would still be trapped in that nightmare, enduring its torment. So—

“…Thank you.”

Although trying to fall asleep again would be even more difficult now, it was still better than being stuck in that horrific dream.

Would the next one be worse? Edwin wasn’t sure.

He lowered his hand and glanced at Tal, silently urging him to leave.

“Do you have nightmares often?”

The demon asked unexpectedly, seeming to genuinely contemplate the question, as if waiting for Edwin to give him an answer.

…This was too humiliating.

The bishop tried to pull the velvet bed curtain closed, politely signaling his refusal to answer. But even this reaction revealed the truth of the matter.

What surprised him even more was that Tal reached out and stopped the curtain from fully closing, preventing Edwin from slipping back into another nightmare so easily.

“I’m tired,” Edwin said. “Humans are creatures that require rest.”

His tone carried a faint, cold humor.

Tal probably suspected that the bishop genuinely worried he didn’t understand such a basic fact.

“What I mean is…”

As Edwin’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could clearly see Tal’s figure.

The demon’s hair was soft, his features strikingly beautiful, and his horns, at this moment, didn’t seem particularly sharp. Perhaps because he bore no hostility, Tal almost resembled… a large, plush, harmless pillow.

The comparison startled Edwin. He really was exhausted.

Tal finished speaking.

“Although I’m a low-level demon, there are still some things I can do. Bishop, I think I can offer you some help?”

Edwin’s lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but he didn’t make a decision immediately.

He eyed the demon with suspicion, watching as Tal raised a hand and let a shadow fall gently over his face.

“Don’t move. Let me cover your eyes.”

Edwin hesitated for a moment but didn’t resist the absurd suggestion.

Not that he had much hope for its success, but…

As the demon’s palm pressed gently against his eyes, a rich and heady rose fragrance enveloped him. The scent was like the finest aged wine—just one whiff made his consciousness grow heavy.

The darkness behind his covered vision pulled him into its embrace.

Before Edwin could even react, sleep claimed him.

A dreamless night.

Something that hadn’t happened in years descended upon him once more.

When Tal reopened the black book at the desk, he was unsurprised to find the world consciousness filled with confusion.

“Why do you seem… a little concerned about that human? You’re not the type to care about things like this.”

Having been left hanging for quite a while, the world consciousness had taken the opportunity to think things through.

In the previous world, the two people it had worked with had been in love from the start—it had been clear as day.

As an entity incapable of understanding emotions, it had at least acknowledged that their bond made sense.

But Tarksius?

The Dark God was a cruel and malevolent being—the black book knew this best, having been his first victim.

Yet, for almost the entire day, he had stayed with this bishop of the Holy Church.

…And, judging by his mood, he seemed to have enjoyed it quite a bit.

However, it soon felt that it shouldn’t have asked this question, as Tarksius immediately mocked it in response:

“Don’t you think he’s much more interesting than you?”

At this moment, rather than appearing as a harmless little demon, the Dark God showed his true form without hesitation. In his dark red eyes flowed a divine power woven with both arrogance and malice.

It was as if everything in the world existed on a plane lower than his own. His voice was gentle, yet it sent chills down one’s spine:

“His soul is so special—ambitious yet restrained at every turn, longing for corruption yet untouched by any power. The God of Light cannot claim him, and even if I were to make a pact with him using my true form, destroying everything he possesses, I still wouldn’t be able to break his will.”

“I’m interested in his soul. I want to see what position he will ultimately reach.”

These words sounded like the prelude to a bloody soul-smuggling deal.

Or perhaps, like a cliché demon tricking a human into surrendering their soul.

But there was still something off. The Black Book flipped its own pages in midair, still puzzled, yet it did not voice any further questions.

Tarksius lowered his head and slowly laughed:

“Of course,”

The god said, “You’re right—the reason isn’t just that. But even if I explained, you probably wouldn’t understand. After all, I don’t fully comprehend this twisted feeling myself.”

His words were both gentle and dangerous, as if touching on some secret even Tarksius was unwilling to speak of directly.

The Black Book thought gloomily that it had no way of knowing—

Wait, wait a moment.

It could see Tarksius’s past, so it seemed like it might actually have some guesses as to why Tarksius found Edwin to be such a special human.

As the words “Contract” surfaced on its pages, the Dark God lightly traced his fingers over the ink. The freshly written words stained his divine fingertips.

He didn’t mind in the slightest:

“You guessed correctly. He found and shattered something, though it all came too late.”

“What he broke was a… golden vessel that had already been shattered long ago.”