Ch 92. Marcella’s Bad Dream

Marcella was slowly coming to. Clearly disoriented from the wound on her head, taking longer to rouse than would be normal. It might have been a bit rough, but I couldn't be picky with my methods, capturing her alive while knowing she had that sword ability left me with very few options indeed. 

I sharpened my cheap iron knife that I had kept with me from the start, brushing the edge against a small grit stone that I kept for managing the upkeep of my growing list of weapons. Having them in inventory storage really reduced the need for any maintenance, but even then a bit of polishing every now and then was never a bad thing. Blowing off the layer of metal soot that had formed across the blade with my breath before testing the sharpness a few times against my skin to examine my work, it was certainly sharp but from the response against my skin it felt no different than a butter knife. Smiling at my body's evolution before starting once again, the metallic scraping sound echoing through the dungeon halls. 

Marcella's eyes were beginning to open hazily, failing to immediately recognize the location, or me, for that matter. The low-light conditions of the dungeon obscuring her vision partially as I just continued on with my task. 

She tried to get up, only to realize she was in chains. That particular reality sobering her up, apparently becoming aware of the lazuli collar as it glowed faintly blue for a brief moment, absorbing her latent magic, eventually the girl chose to settle back down, resigned. 

Watching me with unease as I sharpened the knife, I wasn't intending to use it on her, rather I had something else in mind, but I could see from her position why she would be uncomfortable. Continuing regardless. 

"Am I in the dungeons?" She asked me after a long while, apparently assuming that I was a jailor or soldier of some kind given the authoritative tone she decided to take with me. Did she think I worked for her father? Even the question seemed rhetorical, she should be able to tell well enough on her own that she was in the dungeons. 

Ignoring her question for the time being. I hadn't been planning on hiding my identity, but it was amusing to watch her like this.

"Can you call father? Actually, it'd be better to speak with mother first... call mother. I want to speak to her." 

She was in a prison, did she really think she could just order me like a servant? 

"You're in a lot of trouble, you know that right?" I said, finally breaking my silence. Marcella being a mage, and a well-bred woman at that, she was probably too valuable and too desirable for the country to see her dead. Even if her magic was sealed, she could still be of great use to the country by giving birth to a new generation of magic users. Stripped of her freedoms and forced into slavery. I honestly wasn't familiar enough with magic users to know for sure, but I had at least heard some rumors by now. 

Her face went grim after I spoke, gingerly laying her head back against the stone wall of her cell. 

"You think I don't know that?" She muttered to herself, barely audible. Tears starting to form at the edges of her eyes. 

"That's why I'm asking you. Can you please just get mom?" Raising her voice again in frustration as she noticed I wasn't playing along with her whims. Was she trying to act tough, or did she really think a guard would listen to her in a situation like this? Given how entitled she acted, they probably would. 

In any case, her demand had nothing to do with me, and I'd had enough playing around.  

"I don't like your tone," I said. Stepping out of the shadows and into view.

My words causing her to snap back angrily before she could even see me. 

"Who do you think pays y.." her words trailing off at the end as my appearance interrupted her train of thought, her voice cracking as if it were suddenly caught in her throat. 

"?!"

She could only manage a series of confused noises instead of words, every syllable laden with incomprehension and sheer dread. The blood draining from her face as she looked at me, looking like she would faint on the spot. Her head beginning to wobble woozily before her eyes rolled up; Marcella's head falling back weakly against the stone wall she was lying chained to. 

She really did pass out, huh?

I waited... but she wasn't getting up. 

Drawing up another bucket of water from my inventory and pouring it slowly over her face, her body shaking from the cold sensation. Coughing and sputtering reactively from the running of water. 

Her eyes darting around under her eyelids, before finally coming to. Fixating on me as as she looked on with a frozen expression, completely unmoving as she watched me.

Only moving her attention for the briefest of moments to take notice of the knife, something she had previously overlooked when she 'knew' I was a guard. Her expression making it all too clear what was going through her mind.

Even if I did have a grudge against her, I wasn't going to torture her. Rather, my desire to possess her had only grown stronger after what had transpired last night. 

"What's wrong Marcella, you look like you've seen a ghost?" I asked with a hint of malicious jest, barely containing my grin. It was hard for me to not enjoy the current situation at least a little bit.

I was genuinely curious what was going on in the girl's mind right now, but she had been scared witless ever since seeing my face and was clearly in no shape to talk. 

"Speak." I said, waving the knife to the side as I bid her to speak. 

She clearly had questions, but was simply too afraid to put voice to them. 

"Speak, I said. Don't make me ask you again." 

Her fear of retribution eventually overcoming her hesitation as she began to form words. 

"I-I'm s-s-sorry for killing you." She managed to whisper out through chattering teeth, not daring to look away from me for a second. 

Killing me? Did she really think I was a ghost coming back to torment her?

I squatted down to her level, staring at her face-to-face. 

"Do I look dead to you?"

Seeing the panic run through her as she tried to figure out if I was asking her a trick question before she finally responded. 

"No??" She said while stuttering again, struggling to give me an answer that I'd like. 

"Then why'd you say that I'm a ghost?" Well, of course she'd think that, but she was just too much fun.

Her face going even more pale as I questioned her. 

"I-i'm sorry. Please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You're not a ghost." 

"If I'm not a ghost, then what am I?" Staring at her even closer than before.

Marcella averted eyes from the pressure of my gaze, but I moved her chin so that she was facing me again.

A cold sweat appearing on her brow.

"Are you a demon?" She guessed, sounding hopeful. As if she were she was going to get a reward if she answer correctly. 

This girl... she was being earnest.

If I'm not a ghost I'm a demon. I couldn't help but shaking my head. 

"Well... it's close enough." When I thought of the origins of the system and the system users, they really were close to demons. I didn't feel I was entirely the same as them, given that I still had my original soul, but with the System and a foreign soul in my body, I certainly couldn't be counted as a normal human anymore. 

Turning back to Marcella, I took her wall shackled wrist and brought it in front of me. 

"Open your hand."

She looked hesitantly at the knife in my other hand, like I was going to do something bad to her, before slowly opening her hand. 

I placed the knife in her hand and folded her fingers back over it. 

"You wanted to kill me?" I asked her bluntly. 

She shook her head vigorously as if to deny it.

Taking her hand with the dagger with my hand, I guided the tip of the blade over to my neck. Staring at her the entire time. 

Her hand shaking as she held it weakly, afraid to put any force in. 

"You wanted it, so do it." I commanded her. 

Seeing as she was too flustered to go through with it, I squeezed her hand forcefully. Making her form a tight grip on the dagger as I pushed. 

The dagger point taught against my skin, but my new and improved body rejected the dagger like it was no more than a finger pressing on skin. Not so much as a scratch even as I started putting in more force than would likely behead another man. 

Marcella's eyes growing wider with fear and pain by the second, her hand appearing to hurt more than the pin prick sensation against my skin.

Finally letting go, her hand instantly releasing the dagger as it clattered to the floor. 

"Do you understand now, the difference between us?"

She nodded her head meekly. 

Glancing down at the dagger she had dropped just now, I asked her another question.

"Do you want to live or die?"

Marcella's eyes following mine to the weapon. 

"You know what's going to happen to you. Knowing that do you still want to live? I've given you the means, the choice is up to you."

She looked at the dagger, moving her hand slightly towards it slightly before retreating. Tears filling her eyes as she cried. 

"I don't want to die," she spoke weakly. 

Grinning to myself briefly before remembering my role.

A slave with no will to live was useless to me after all, even if she was a slave it's not like I could forcefully keep her alive against her own will. And even if I could, that'd be no fun either.  

"You're mine then." 

Locking the cell on my way out before disappearing the key into my inventory. 

My mood brightened considerably until I remembered the poor state Belle had been left in. Marcella would need to be dealt with in due time, but Belle needed my attention more. I had already spent too much time on dealing with this. It was a good thing Belle was taking it all so cheerfully but it didn't make me feel any less guilty. Marcella's target had been me after all.

Rubbing my chin thoughtfully as I left the prison. 

I really didn't get cut from that, huh? Taking out my mirror to inspect where the dagger had poked at my neck. I had tested it beforehand, but I was still amazed. Admiring the power of my newly enhanced body that was still receiving a steady stream of vitality with every moment that passed. My focus wandering to the status windows. 

Putting away my mirror with a satisfied expression, it was time to check in with my favorite girls. 

Kaguro