The Immortal Had a Guardian Spirit Chapter 8

The summoning of an unidentified man, and the exchange of eyes with him—if one assumed he wasn’t human, it became understandable to some degree.

Dan’s eyes rolled round and round.

‘Then what race could he possibly be?’

At the very least, he showed none of the commonly known characteristics of other races.

As he shifted his gaze to check the other once more, vivid green eyes entered his vision. No—as if having noticed the observation long before, the moment Dan looked at him, Raven turned his head sharply and met his eyes.

“Why?”

“….”

Shake shake.

Dan shook his head.

His abilities, his identity… He was full of questions in many ways, but he didn’t seem malevolent. And in his own disadvantaged position, he had no intention of picking a fight over it.

So he tried to avert his gaze, but the green eyes with their strange light kept drawing his attention.

“Ah, is it that these eyes are uncomfortable after all?”

Raven, already aware of the gaze, fiddled with the corner of his eye.

“Some people do find them unsightly because of the ghostly aura they carry. Such people are usually either old or have talent as shamans. Seems you’re of that kind too.”

Ghostly aura? Shaman?

As if his doubts had shown on his face, an answer came immediately.

“These are eyes borrowed from a guardian spirit. Because I can’t see ahead, you see.”

A guardian spirit is, after all, a soul. Meaning, one who is dead.

“Since they’re borrowed from the eyes of the dead, they can’t help but carry a ghostly aura.”

…So it was a ‘guardian spirit.’ Come to think of it, he had heard him call it ‘esteemed ancestor.’

Dan followed the fingers tapping the corner of the eye, then turned his head back to face forward.

So it was a part of the body borrowed from one already dead and departed from the surface. He called him a shaman, but he wasn’t sure if this really fell within the domain of sorcery.

His suspicion had doubled, but since curiosity had outweighed wariness from the start, Dan decided to cut off his interest here and focus on moving.

‘Even if he is suspicious, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.’

Once again, he was the one in need.

He was the one asking for help. To leave and search for someone else to help simply because he was suspicious—he couldn’t be sure he would even find anyone. And even if he did, the chances that they would readily step forward to help like Raven were vanishingly low.

Raven was an unusual case. And Dan was not a person lucky enough to receive a fortunate choice twice in a row.

In the first place, if he had been lucky, he wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

‘Noona….’

Please, let me not be too late.

As the destination drew nearer, useless thoughts kept surfacing and vanishing. Dan spurred his running feet toward the destination that had finally begun to come into view.

And then, at the place they arrived.

Crack.

They discovered a woman snapping the neck of a man who appeared to be a pursuer.

“….”

[Guardian Spirit ??? lets out a groan.]

What a trick of fate this was.

As if he had stopped breathing for a moment, Raven stood frozen, staring at her. Then he slowly turned his head toward Dan. Lifeless green eyes seemed to take him in, and soon a faint, hollow laugh slipped through his lips.

…Damn it.

‘Death, you must have known everything.’

That I would become entangled with this boy, and ultimately step forward to help.

That was why, among the countless souls needing collection, you chose that one. Because you wish for me not merely to have no desire for life, but to yearn for death.

“….”

“….”

An uneasy silence stretched precariously.

Before what should have remained simple silence could turn into dissonance, Raven pulled up the corners of his lips. As if he had never frozen at all, an exceedingly light voice emerged.

“Bold, aren’t you. Given the circumstances, that person seems to be your noona. Is she an Awakened or a combatant by any chance?”

Shake shake.

Dan, who had been frozen, shook his head with difficulty.

It wasn’t his noona but his father who had been the village’s only combatant. He had been in the vigilante corps. His noona had only learned a few skills from their father.

…For reference, their father had died protecting the village from the raid by slave traders leading illegal mercenaries.

“Who…! Ah.”

The woman, who had been glaring this way with fierce eyes at the unfamiliar voice, spotted Dan standing beside Raven. As if roughly grasping the situation, she softened her gaze. Whether from released tension, her body swayed weakly and collapsed.

Dan immediately rushed out to catch her.

“—!”

“…Why.”

The woman’s lips moved silently.

She must be asking why he came back. It was obvious even without looking.

Having no intention of intruding on their conversation, Raven turned his head and approached one of the pursuers who was still breathing, not yet finished off by the woman. Originally, he should have approached the woman and taken some sort of measure, but this time, he did not.

…There was no reason to.

She was the target whose soul he had to collect.

So this was both atonement for a promise he could not keep, and a venting of his anger.

He placed his foot on the man’s neck and leaned his upper body forward, looking down at him. Green eyes carrying a ghostly aura shone coldly.

“…The slaves officially permitted by each nation are only the nobles of defeated countries and criminals.”

“Gurk….”

It was a standard set by the first emperor of the present empire, Ardal.

That person himself was said to have been opposed to slavery, but how could a single human defy the madness-filled era of the time, when trampling, seizing, and subjugating through war had become the norm?

As a final act of defiance, he had declared it outrageous that those who conscripted innocent citizens and drove them to the brink of death should not bear responsibility for the aftermath of their defeat, and so he enslaved the nobles rather than the people of the defeated nations.

It served as a warning to the leadership of other nations who sought to attack Ardal, and also as a warning to the nobles of his own country. A warning not to speak lightly of war or conscription—only those prepared to take responsibility should speak.

Of course, that was only ‘officially.’ Since the numbers of criminals and nobles were few and slaves were scarce, a broader line was tacitly permitted.

“What’s tacitly permitted extends to the people of defeated countries. About that much, I’d say.”

Even so, it was within the scope of ‘defeated countries.’

Yet, how strange.

“No matter how I look at it, those two don’t seem to be from a defeated country. People from defeated countries show it in their eyes.”

“S-save…”

As if suffocating from the killing intent, stupid sounds stuttered out. Raven slowly put his weight on the foot placed on the neck, silencing the mouth he didn’t want to hear, and murmured lowly.

“Surely Ardal hasn’t collapsed in the meantime.”

Ardal was a nation with a thousand years of history, equipped with military power befitting it.

At least until before Raven went into seclusion, they possessed the strength to endure most wars for over ten years.

Of course, most of the surviving other nations were of a similar kind… which was precisely why the atmosphere was one of mutual non-aggression.

So, in other words, these bastards…

“They’ve got some nerve.”

Simply put, they’re just madmen. Raven defined it simply.

The possibility crossed his mind that it might be the scheme of another faction trying to undermine the emperor’s popularity and chip away at his influence, but since that wasn’t his concern, he dismissed it.

“How should I deal with these ones…”

Should he just kill them and be done? Or track down their base and wipe it out?

Pursuing the latter brought him no benefit. Right now, blood was streaming from his wounds, and he needed to go obtain fairy herbs. Did he really have to make a detour and stop elsewhere for the sake of these wretches?

‘But thinking about what I have to do soon…’

His gaze flickered, catching the woman at its edge.

That was brief. His clothes were tugged. The gaze that had passed by as naturally as if he had never looked at her lowered. Dan, holding the woman, was looking at him with a tear-streaked face, as if asking him to do something.

“…Ah, right.”

A dry voice continued.

“I came to grant your request.”

It faintly reflected a hardened resolve.

Whether it was a resolve not to be shaken by the resentment he would hear, or a resolve to undertake his own kind of atonement—with eyes of unknown meaning, he opened his mouth.

“First—.”

Crunch—

The foot that had lifted from the pursuer’s neck stepped as if to take a stride, shattering the man’s ankle, and closed the distance to the woman.

The gaze that had been strangely felt since rescuing Dan had now disappeared, so with nothing left to hinder him, he spat out the rest of his words without hesitation.

A somewhat cold voice fell.

“I should start by saying I’m sorry that I won’t be able to keep my promise.”

“…—.”

As if asking what he meant, Dan’s eyes flew wide. Raven quietly turned away from him and raised a hand to his own neck.

As if urging him to act, the red gem on the choker was minutely vibrating.

“…I have to kill this woman.”

“!”

“There is no other choice.”

Who could have known things would twist like this.

She was a person who should have died long ago. He knew it the moment he saw her.

Far from snapping a pursuer’s neck, merely moving at all was a miracle. She must have wrung out the last of her strength for her younger brother. That she was still alive at all was remarkable.

‘And that’s why Death sent me, I suppose.’

Every living being has an allotted lifespan, and most die in various accidents before fulfilling it. It was not for nothing that the saying ‘enjoying one’s allotted span of heaven’ accompanied those who fulfilled their lifespan before departing.

In cases where one dies without fulfilling their lifespan, if Death—or oneself as his errand runner—did not personally collect the soul within three days, incidents of not dying, or dying but reviving and continuing life, would occur. The three-day funeral among human funeral customs originated from such incidents.

The woman before him belonged to the ‘not dying’ case.

The type who clung to her lifeline through will alone.

Raven now had to trample that will and sever it.

Slowly, he raised his hand to the gem of the choker and removed it. From the gem, along the fingers that had touched it, a black current flowed out, gathering in his hand to form the shape of his most familiar weapon.

“…You know.”

Holding the soul-collecting weapon, he approached the woman, looked into her eyes, and calmly began to speak.

“Did you know that Death has a single errand runner who acts as his hands and feet?”

Not a question, but a statement to convey information.

Toward the other, who seemed to have guessed his intent, Raven crookedly pulled up the corners of his lips. Despite bearing the eyes of one whose time had stopped, devoid of life, he chuckled and spoke.

“People used to give me the name of the bird Death commands, calling me Raven.”

“…Ah.”

“I’ve come to stop your time.”

…Collecting someone’s soul was a considerably difficult task, mentally. Even more so when the other was entangled with him in some way. That was likely why Death had set it as a condition for immortality.

Glancing sideways at Dan’s face—vacant, a mixture of shock and betrayal—Raven maintained an even more brazen attitude and added, as if bestowing a favor.

“Any last words you’d like to leave?”

Originally, he never asked such things. But this was his own form of apology.

He had come promising to help, yet far from helping, he was trying to kill her. And soon, he really would kill her.

“—!”

“Stop, Dan.”

As if belatedly coming to his senses, the woman restrained Dan, who had bared his teeth as if about to pounce at any moment. With fading breath, she laboriously opened her mouth.

A detached voice, one that held not the slightest trace of resentment or anger, clearly pierced Raven’s eardrums.

“My mother’s last request… was to take good care of my younger brother.”

“….”

“If you take my soul, I won’t be able to fulfill that request.”

So.

“If you are going to take my soul… at least carry on that final wish.”

“…I asked for last words you’d like to leave, not a request.”

His green eyes wavered minutely. Quickly composing the expression that had been exposed for just a brief moment, Raven added, as if baffled. No, in the first place—

“Even after seeing me break a promise right before your eyes, you can say such a thing?”

Raven had broken his promise with Dan right before her eyes. She wasn’t so oblivious that she wouldn’t know—the earlier conversation and Dan’s face full of betrayal would be more than enough.

Yet the woman smiled brightly, as if unconcerned.

“….”

What more words were needed here?

After a brief exchange of glances, Raven raised his weapon without answering.

Feeling that the end was near, the woman quietly closed her eyes. In the silence that was neither affirmation nor denial, she read refusal. But she also felt the discomfort toward refusing, so she was content enough with that alone.

‘He won’t be able to completely ignore the request, after all.’

He would carry it in his heart in some way.

Of course, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to live. It was simply that she knew well the state she was in—that resistance was impossible—and from the moment she sent her brother away alone, she had been prepared for death. She didn’t want to cling to futile hope and show an ugly sight.

But that was only her perspective. There was no way Dan would stand by and watch this situation unfold toward the death of his only remaining blood relative.

“—!”

A black bird swooped in with ferocious momentum.