To Embrace the Devil - Chapter 8
It was sticky and hot. Trembling, Yelena touched her cheek with shaky hands.
Fabio’s eyes wide open as his head lay right beside her.
Breathing in sharply, the smell of blood filled her lungs. Slowly, her mind began to grasp the situation.
“Uugh!”
Yelena gagged at the brutal sight.
Unlike her, Diago breathed steadily. Slowly, as if savoring the scent of blood.
Tilting his head with mild curiosity, he approached Fabio’s severed head, his golden eyes coldly examined the cut neck.
Meanwhile, Yelena crawled away from the corpse. Her body was aching and creaking. Yet an instinctual revulsion pushed her onward.
‘He killed… he really killed him.’
Her hands trembled as they touched the floor. She had seen corpses before, but never a head so cleanly severed right in front of her face.
In this moment, the instinctive terror outweighed the relief of finally escaping Fabio.
A cold voice fell behind her as she crawled toward the wall.
“Stop.”
Yelena froze and turned her head sharply. Her blue eyes shone with fear.
Diago had already stepped away from the body and stood by the cellar door. His face was as composed as ever, as if nothing had happened.
Only the blood on his blade and clothes bore witness to the recent events.
Diago gazed at the torn skin on Yelena’s forehead.
“Yes… it was strange from the start.”
His dry voice echoed softly.
“Were you really the cause?”
“…young master…?”
Yelena parted her split lips.
After three years, Diago felt more distant than ever.
He had killed a man without showing any change in expression. His impression was still perfectly beautiful and unreadable.
There was no emotional flicker. Strangely, not at all human.
As their eyes met, every nerve in Yelena’s body tensed. She was overwhelmed by his presence.
Diago stared hard before tilting his head slightly.
“Why do you still tremble? The culprit is surely dead.”
His voice was filled with only curiosity, as if he could not comprehend her fear.
“He deserved to die.”
His decisive, blunt tone helped Yelena regain some composure. Though her head still spun.
Yes, Diago had only fulfilled his duty. He had the authority to execute on the spot in Mediol, and Fabio had broken the order.
Yelena reflected on the rumors about Diago during his three years at sea.
A commander who showed no mercy on the battlefield but never acted violently without reason.
Kill the guilty, free the innocent. Kill the enemies of the Iresol Kingdom, protect the comrades.
A man who operated flawlessly under simple principles. That was why he seemed less human than most.
He had always been difficult, but far from the abusive noble who randomly attacked servants.
This murder was not without cause.
Yelena struggled to kneel before Diago and bowed her head. Thanks to that, she escaped the worst fate and could only tremble.
“Th, thank you… for saving me.”
Her weak voice echoed in the air.
Diago had saved her from hell twice. He was her master and savior.
Without him, she would already be dead.
How could she ever repay this kindness?
When she heard of his return, she hoped for a chance to speak. She never expected their reunion to be like this.
Nor that her first words to him in the continental tongue would be like this after all the things she had learned.
Diago silently stared at her.
She curled up slightly, as if trying to hide her body from his gaze.
Yelena’s clothes were half in tatters. They were stained with blood and cut hair. Her right shoulder and arm were exposed where the seams tore. Her skirt was ripped during the struggle with Fabio.
Diago spoke calmly.
“You must testify to the lord about this incident.”
Yelena shuddered and looked up at him, but immediately lowered her head again when their eyes met.
‘Is he troubled because of me?’
Countless scoldings echoed in her ears. If you cause trouble, the young master who brought you here will be troubled…
Meeting the lord directly as a mere maid was serious. Her lower abdomen ached more from tension.
While Yelena fretted, Diago glanced at the dead Fabio and clicked his tongue.
“What a disgrace. I expected discipline to slacken.”
Thud, Diago turned and stepped out of the cellar.
Yelena kept her thin neck bent and eyes glued to the floor.
‘What am I going to do, what now…?’
The weight of what had happened and what might come felt overwhelming, like a cornered rat.
As Yelena trembled, Diago took two steps and said.
“Are you going to stay there? Come out.”
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