Sea Monster Stew Chapter 65

“Why do you keep bringing only one set?”

“This time, there really was only this one set.”

“You’re lying. You just enjoy seeing me undressed.”

 

“Well, that’s true too. But this time, I’m really being unfairly accused.”

 

Kisa spouted his ridiculous lie with a straight face and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Arms up.”

“It’s fine. I’ll do it myself.”

 

Biche, noticing Moose sighing heavily, roughly snatched the clothes from him. 

 

She didn’t want to be cared for like a child in front of others.

 

Apparently not intending to force the issue, Kisa shrugged and turned his attention back to Moose.

 

“So. The identity of the brand Hildert left?”

“…Hey, by any chance, have you ever had a sudden pain, like your heart was being crushed, or anything like that?”

 

Biche, who had been sluggishly putting on her clothes, looked at Moose with wide eyes. 

 

The day she first met Calante, her heart had ached as if someone was pressing down on it hard.

“Y-yes, I have. It felt exactly… like someone was pressing down on my heart with their hand…”

“That wasn’t an illusion. In reality, your heart is practically in Hildert’s hands right now.”

 

Biche unconsciously pressed a trembling hand against her chest. She could feel her heart pounding.

“Come here, Arco.”

 

Kisa pulled her close, pressing his ear to her chest. 

 

He held her waist tightly and listened to her heartbeat for a moment, then frowned and glared fiercely at Moose.

“It’s beating fine, what nonsense are you talking about?”

“Of course, normally your lady’s heart is perfectly fine inside her body. However, whenever Hildert wishes…”

 

Admiral Moose spread a large hand open in front of them. 

 

She looked around, then picked up a bright red apple that Kisa had brought in the morning and placed it on her palm.

“Like this, your lady’s heart is summoned into Hildert’s hand. How about it? Do you understand?”

“…No, I don’t understand at all. If the heart leaves the body, how is Arco unharmed?”

“That’s just how magic is. Unless the heart is physically damaged in a specific way, the person under the spell doesn’t die immediately just because their heart is outside their body. However…”

 

Moose easily split the round apple in half and whispered in a low voice.

“If Hildert were to damage the heart like this… your lady would be gone to the next world without even a chance to scream.”

 

“If… if he can kill me that easily, why has he let me live until now? After I escaped from Karabas?”

 

Biche pushed Kisa’s face away and asked in a trembling voice. 

 

Even more unbelievable than the fact that Hildert had cast such a terrible spell on her was the fact that he had shown her such uncharacteristic leniency.

For a lowly half-breed who dared to betray him, he had every reason to crush her heart on the spot. Why had Hildert let her live until now?

He had already shown her mercy twice. 

 

The first time when she initially escaped from her life as little more than a slave-assistant. 

 

And the second time when she escaped from the wedding venue with Kisa, where they were about to become husband and wife.

He had neither split nor crushed Biche’s heart.

 

“Kisa. It seems Hildert is more serious about your girl than you expected?”

Admiral Moose looked at Kisa and took a loud, crunchy bite of the apple. 

 

Kisa caught the other half she tossed to him mid-air, his face contorted fiercely.

 

“Cut the crap.”

“Hehe… A man who is your rival in love, your nemesis, and the target of your revenge. Fine. I’ll specially yield the chance to plunge a blade into that bastard’s neck.”

 

“I told you to cut the crap.”

 

He snarled the words, then subtly rolled his eyes to check Biche’s complexion. 

 

Seeing how pale she had become, as if feeling sorry for her, he swallowed a sigh and gently stroked her tense back with his large hand.

 

“Is there absolutely no way to break the magic on Arco?”

“From what I know, I’ve heard only the caster can undo it…”

 

Admiral Moose chewed on the apple core, munching noisily, and tilted her head.

“We’ll be arriving at Whecoca soon, so let’s ask Lady Calyxo.”

“…Calyxo…”

“Unlike you, who’s never had any formal training, she dedicated hundreds of years to cultivation. She’ll surely know the answer.”

 

She looked back and forth between Biche’s stunned face and Kisa’s hardened face and let out a sigh.

 

“This might sound cruel to young lovers like you, but really… your path ahead is fraught with hardship, truly fraught.”

 

With those final words, she clucked her tongue and left the captain’s quarters. 

 

Biche stared blankly at the door as it slammed shut, then whispered in Kisa’s ear.

 

“Admiral Moose… She really talks like a grandmother.”

“She is a grandmother.”

“R-really?”

“They say she gave up counting her age after she passed a hundred and thirty.”

 

Do magic users from Whecoca just age slowly? Biche recalled Hildert’s face, which had been smooth and wrinkle-free.

He hadn’t aged a day in the five years Biche was held captive in Karabas either. He always looked exactly the same as when she first met him.

‘Now that I think about it… I still don’t know his exact age.’

 

Just as Biche tilted her head in puzzlement, Kisa grabbed her cheeks firmly with his large hands. 

 

The fake leather left hand felt particularly cold today.

“Hildert, that bastard, is an old man over 500 years old, so don’t even think about him anymore. Understood?”

 

It seemed her thoughts had somehow transmitted to Kisa’s mind. 

 

Biche blinked, looking bewildered.

 

“H-he’s really a 500-year-old grandfather…?”

“Couldn’t you tell from the way he talks? He totally seemed like an old man.”

“Did he…?”

 

Painful memories tend to fade. 

 

Indeed, since the day Hildert branded her, whenever Biche tried to recall him, his voice and expression were barely remembered. 

 

Only the searing pain inflicted on her back and his contemptuous gaze towards her remained vivid.

 

Just as she was straining to remember what the man’s speech pattern was like, she felt the hands holding her cheeks tremble slightly. 

 

When Biche looked up and saw Kisa’s eyes filled with tears, she was startled.

 

“Why are you crying?”

“…It’s because of me.”

“What is because of you?”

“You might not remember, but…”

 

Finally, teardrops fell from Kisa’s eyes, one after another. 

 

Biche, flustered, wiped his tears away with her hands. 

 

She was already thrown off by seeing a man cry for the first time, but on top of that, Kisa’s broad shoulders shook like a child’s as he shed pitiful tears.

 

“The brand on your back… and that bastard Hildert taking your heart… it’s all my fault.”

“Really…?”

 

“That bastard… he found out I was lurking around you and went crazy…”

 

The hands that had been caressing her cheeks fell away with a thud. 

 

Biche glanced down. The fake left hand had detached from his wrist and hung limp like a glove.

 

Although they had only been reunited for a few days, Biche had already come to understand the Live-Skinner Kisa to some extent. 

 

Kisa was a man with a boyish vulnerability that didn’t match his notorious reputation at all.

He seemed bold, yet was always highly anxious, and seemed to resolve that anxiety by merging his body with hers. 

 

Him crying like a child now seemed part of that vulnerability.

 

And whenever Kisa fell into desperate depression or despair, he lost control of his magic. 

 

That is, his power to manipulate hides became useless. 

 

Just like now, with the fake left hand lifeless and limp.

 

“Don’t cry.”

 

Biche held his bandaged wrist tightly with both hands and pressed her forehead against Kisa’s.

“How is that your fault? It’s Hildert’s fault for not controlling his own emotions and taking his anger out on me.”

“……”

 

“Did you… cry like this before too? In the time I can’t remember…”

“…Why? Is it unattractive that a man is blubbering?”

“No. I was just wondering how I comforted you back then.”

 

Kisa had already stopped crying, but his forehead against hers was burning hot, as if boiling.

 

Biche stroked his reddened eyes and swallowed a sigh.

 

People probably knew this man as the world’s worst escapee and a mad pirate. 

 

But the Live-Skinner Kisa that Biche had personally experienced was not a madman.

The bizarre self-harm of cutting off his own wrist was a final, desperate struggle to protect someone he loved. 

 

Contrary to his face, which seemed like it wouldn’t shed a drop of blood even if stabbed, he was a man who could shed tears, blaming everything on himself.

 

‘It seems I’ve fallen for him, and fallen hard.’

 

Biche swallowed another sigh and briefly pressed her lips to his. 

 

She wondered if her heart had softened like this back in those forgotten times, too, leading her to fall for Kisa.