The Immortal Had a Guardian Spirit Chapter 3

“…It’s true you’ve been fulfilling the minimum conditions of the contract, so it’s not exactly a violation, but.”

One of the contract conditions.

[■■ shall collect certain souls in place of ‘Death’ at least once a month.]

[Souls must be collected within one week from the moment their location is provided, and ‘Death’ must request the collection of souls at an appropriate distance considering this deadline and ■■’s location.]

Certainly, even while in hiding, Raven had collected the souls of designated targets as Death instructed, without objection.

…Though, to begin with, Death had only sent him on ‘errands’ a few times in the early days of his disappearance, and after that, simply left him be, curious how long he would keep it up.

“The fact that you have taken absolutely no action over the past ten years to achieve the ‘purpose’ for which you extended your lifespan is a problem. And that’s despite now knowing even the face and location of your final target for revenge.”

“…In the first place, that’s only the superficial purpose stated in the ‘contract.'”

Knowing full well, why bring it up anew.

Raven shook his head indifferently, carving up the monster corpse with his dagger. A voice as crooked as his attitude followed.

“The real purpose I made this contract for is ‘the complete extinction of gates,’ you know.”

The stated condition that the contract ends upon killing the target of his revenge was just a way to control when he ought to die. From the beginning, that condition was set so he could stay alive until the gates were completely gone.

Because his enemy, damnably fortunate, was not an existence that would die easily, he had been able to set such a condition.

‘Actually, it would be more accurate to say “taking responsibility for the Gate Incident” rather than “complete extinction”… but it’s all the same.’

Wiping the magic stone taken from the monster corpse roughly and putting it in his pocket, he smirked and pointed at the gate’s core with his dagger.

“And right now, I’m closing a gate. There’s absolutely no reason for you to pick a fight.”

So get lost, right now.

Whether he didn’t talk to people for ten years or hid away, when the time came he would kill that bastard enemy on his own and end this life.

“…I wonder.”

An uncooperative attitude dripping with sarcasm and veiled irritation.

Though it might be a bit displeasing, Death’s expression remained composed.

“You must know that closing gates one by one on your own is utterly useless. That’s why you raised disciples in the first place.”

“…But I failed.”

“It doesn’t seem to be a failure, though.”

“…?”

“Your disciples, every one of them, have become major figures.”

President of the Awakeners Association, President of the Sculpted Soul Orb Association, President of the Shaman Association, President of the Combatant Association, and the other one became a hidden power holding and shaking the Emperor of the Empire, was it.

Having inwardly mulled over their progress and inadvertently checked their current situation, Death paused briefly, then spoke nonchalantly as if he hadn’t seen anything.

“A suitable system for dealing with gates has been established around them. Small villages still can’t be helped, but major cities, including the capital, have managed to withstand the Gate Incident to some degree.”

“…So what are you trying to say?”

“Go find your disciples.”

Death grinned.

He had just seen Raven’s disciples gathered in one place designing a windowless room, but what did that matter? It was all their own doing.

He added, toward Raven who had frozen solid.

“Go and see what kind of present your past efforts have led to, and identify what needs to be supplemented. Then set your goal again and move. As for the youngest disciple, even if you skip the others, you’d better visit him. The solution to the Gate Incident depends on that fellow.”

“…Why?”

“To solve a problem, you must go back to the beginning. Your habit of asking questions when you already know the answer is quite peculiar.”

“….”

The youngest disciple… no, he’s not even a disciple anymore. That guy, Deceiver, I’d rather not see him again unless it’s time to die.

…Is there no choice. Having rubbed his eyes irritably, Raven soon let out a sigh.

“I understand, for now. So is that all for why you came?”

“No. Now we should get to the main point.”

“…?”

“Seeing you persist in meaningless behavior for ten years suddenly made me feel a sense of urgency. I have no certainty that something similar to this won’t happen again, and you might change your mind in the middle and decide you want to enjoy an eternal, immortal life.”

The more Death’s words continued, the more an ominous feeling settled on Raven’s face.

And it didn’t take long before it erupted, when Death twisted up the corner of his lips.

“Let’s make a wager.”

…The ominousness revealed its true form.

In tandem, Raven’s wariness skyrocketed to its maximum.

Having instantly leaped far back, he fixed his gaze on Death without blinking. After a brief pause, his forcedly raised lip corners drew a sharp smile.

“There’s not a single good thing about being entangled with Death, and now you want me to get even more entangled? What an unfunny joke. When the current situation is more than enough, why should I deliberately incur a loss and make a wager?”

“If you win the wager, I will reinterpret and ease the part of your contract condition that states, ‘The body’s time is stopped.'”

“….”

“Shall I be more precise? The part about ‘wounds do not heal.’ That part you once strengthened by recklessly using your body.”

[From the moment the contract is established, ■■’s physical time is stopped.]

This is suitable for securing the ‘agelessness’ befitting immortality, but interpreted another way, it means wounds do not heal even if inflicted. Originally, he was healed when he died and resurrected, but because he exploited it by ending his life whenever wounds bothered him, Death reinterpreted the ‘condition’ in a stricter way.

And so, for the current Raven, even if he resurrects, only the direct wound that caused his death is recovered—the rest are not. It couldn’t help but bother him.

That was why Raven, who had paused, subtly rolled his eyes. Green irises that kept fading to washed-out gray like a candle flickering perilously and then returning rolled with a softened energy.

“…Will you ease it to the same level as before?”

“No. Then you’d just exploit it to your liking again.”

The question was already a positive sign.

He’s halfway persuaded.

Death grinned.

“Only permanent injuries by ordinary human standards, such as a body part being severed, will be recovered when you die and resurrect.”

“…And if you win?”

“I will place a limit on the conditional indefinite lifespan extension.”

“Be more precise.”

Don’t try to gloss over it.

As soon as you win, you could just say, ‘The limit of that extension is now,’ and collect my soul, couldn’t you.

“Based on the point when the wager ends, I’ll change it to granting you an additional ten years of lifespan—the time you’ve wasted.”

“That’s too much of a loss for me. …And no matter how you look at it, it wasn’t ‘wasted.'”

“Your extended lifespan alone already amounts to 150 years. The world is on edge, saying the balance is collapsing. And if I may add to the latter opinion, if stubbornly spending time on something you know is meaningless isn’t a waste, what is it?”

“….”

That’s harsh wording. Not that I have anything to say in response.

More than that…. Raven blinked.

“150 years?”

“Yes.”

“Wow….”

He hadn’t kept count so he didn’t know, but to think so much time had already passed.

…How old was I when I made the contract with Death? Twenty-four, was it?

“Indeed… I have lived long enough.”

“Then—.”

“But that’s that, and this is this.”

Just when had he responded positively, a nasty smile bloomed across his face.

“What if I refuse?”

As if he hadn’t expected refusal to be uttered, Death blinked for a moment and let out a short, “Ha,” a hollow laugh.

“Living by my mercy, yet you have quite the nerve.”

“No. This was clearly a fair contract with a price paid. The word ‘mercy’ doesn’t fit.”

“…You’d do well to consider who holds the upper hand in this contract.”

“The moment you hold the upper hand in the contract would be after I am dead. Which means, at least right now, there’s no need for me to fear you.”

“You seem to have erased from memory the disadvantages that befell you when I reinterpreted the conditions stated in the contract. No, in the first place, what will you do if I, offended, ignore the contract and just collect that soul?”

“I know that’s impossible.”

Ignore the contract?

Ridiculous. Snorting, Raven shook his head.

“If that were possible, you wouldn’t be trying to amend the contract under the guise of a wager. All you can lay hands on are those who have already stopped breathing and died. You wouldn’t be able to touch me, who has no choice but to remain ‘alive’ until my contract with you ends.”

“….”

“And as for the reinterpretation matter… at worst, it would just be a bit more bothersome, wouldn’t it? I’m someone who only needs to be able to move, anyway.”

In a situation where the contract only ends when its ‘purpose’ is fulfilled, Death wouldn’t leave him in a state where his limbs are blown off and he can’t move at all. Since he himself also thought he just needed to be breathing and able to move, what was there to fear?

“…You.”

As if irked by Raven’s point-by-point retorts, Death’s aura flared sharply.

In turn, Raven’s green eyes, which had been flickering precariously the whole time, abruptly went out, revealing gray irises once again.

A chilling voice continued in the darkness.

“Do you think that body is alive?”

With eyes that anyone could see could not see ahead, Raven chuckled.

“Why wouldn’t it be.”

Isn’t his soul being crushed like this precisely because this body belongs to the living.

He spread both arms wide as if to show off.

The ends of his lips rose, and a faint trace of laughter settled in the murky gray irises that had been sunken, devoid of vitality. With his face feigning amusement, he spat out a playful voice.

“—When it stands so vividly before your eyes, how can you say it is dead.”

Pausing at the sudden formal speech, Death took in the sight of Raven.

No, it could be said it was because of the content rather than the formal speech. He knew perfectly well what the other was reciting right now.

“The blood and flesh have not rotted, how can you seize a living person.”

…These are lyrics from a song sung at funerals.

It was a song derived from a kind of ‘pleading’—refusing to accept the death of a loved one, earnestly praying for Death to leave without collecting the soul so they might revive. And to utter it boldly in this manner.

Whether Death wore a dumbfounded expression or not, Raven calmly recited the lyrics in the form of words as if reciting poetry, wearing a sharp smile.

“It is yet too early for you to come.”

Death realized.

That thing feigning amusement was grounded in the composed madness of one already broken.

“I’ll accept the wager, so if your business is done, get the hell out.”

Where had the pleading lyrics asking to wait just three days gone, replaced entirely by insolent words.

Death, who had been listening quietly, let out a hollow laugh.

“…You intended to accept from the very beginning.”

“Well, yes.”

174 years old was certainly long enough to have lived, the price in case of winning wasn’t bad, there was nothing to gain by making the world dislike him even more, and Death didn’t seem to have any intention of backing down either. If he won the wager, Death wouldn’t nag about his lifespan extension for a while, either.

‘Even without that, severed body parts were a problem because even fairy herbs had their limits, so this works out well.’

Just being able to worry less about injuries to some degree was enough.

The reason he’d uttered refusal was simply because he didn’t want to be pushed around meekly according to that detestable fellow’s will.

“Are you not going to ask about the content of the wager?”

“You’ll tell me yourself even if I don’t ask. You can send word through the crows later.”

“…I’ll tell you now.”

Watching the tips of Raven’s fingers rubbing continuously at his eyes, Death withdrew his aura.

As if waiting only for this moment, the gray irises were dyed with a strange green light. Rightly watching the scene of the inhuman eyes glowing vividly, Death slowly began to speak.

“I understand you’ve been with your guardian spirit since before you made the contract with me.”

“…?”

The hand rubbing roughly enough to chafe the corners of his eyes stopped.

Why is he suddenly bringing that up here…

“Do you know the guardian spirit’s name?”

“Ah.”

No way.

As if the guardian spirit had the same thought, it broke its long-maintained silence and sent a message.

[Guardian Spirit ??? stiffens their expression.]

“Find out the true name of your guardian spirit.”