Wandering Spirit

Deep night.

I possess the skill Sleeplessness—sleep is unnecessary.

This does not mean sleep may be avoided entirely. It means no adverse effects arise from not sleeping.

Fatigue accumulated during wakefulness does not dissipate.

Sleep is the most effective method for restoring fatigue. Ultimately, even with Sleeplessness, somewhere, sleep cannot be avoided.

Theoretically, Sleeplessness permits a life without sleep. However, this is only possible for beings with exceptionally high stats, capable of ignoring fatigue, and who are, in any case, aberrant.

Physical fatigue may be masked by high stats, but mental fatigue cannot be ignored.

Those who function despite mental fatigue are not ordinary in mind.

"Be like me."

"Indeed. That statement carries weight."

In the office, empty at this hour save for me, a voice answered despite the solitude.

Beyond the faint light illuminating the documents on my desk, a young man with a pale face floated into view.

He appeared youthful, yet his presence was aged.

Yet he did not seem truly old.

Those evolved from demons or fiends often bore a mismatch between appearance and actual age, but this young man likely did not exceed a century in years.

Still, he carried the weight of having lived more than a hundred years.

I could not help but be struck by the depth of the demon faction’s concealment.

His name was Melazophis.

He had sensed my presence working through the night and come to check on me.

Though I treat him as a guest now, he is, by nature, an enemy.

Thus, the quarters assigned to the demon nobles were arranged with partial isolation, yet—perhaps as expected—this measure proved ineffective.

To be openly prowling about like this renders vigilance absurd.

There is no point in vigilance, one way or another.

For someone like Lady Ariel or Shiro, our vigilance would be meaningless regardless.

They possess the power to simply step over any such precautions.

And likely, the man before me as well.

I continue moving my hand without looking at the man.

Signing documents, completing corrections.

While performing this task, I exchange casual remarks with Melazofis.

The conversation began with a question about whether one could survive without sleep, and gradually shifted toward the abnormality of individuals with sleep-ineffective abilities.

That was the prior exchange.

"Does my presence appear abnormal to you?"

"Yes. At least, it is beyond ordinary. I am somewhat intrigued by what drives you so, but I shall refrain from learning it."

Melazofis turned away, speaking thus.

The conversation appeared to conclude.

Indeed, a remarkably brief exchange.

Perhaps a consideration to avoid interfering with my duties, yet I had not anticipated such brevity.

"Why not ask why I seek to know?"

That was it.

I addressed his retreating form, as if to push away such inquiry.

Among the demonkind, there are many whose intentions remain unreadable, even to me.

This man is likewise beyond my comprehension.

Perhaps my attempt to understand him further, to prolong the conversation, stems from that very uncertainty.

"Your matter is one the lady should know."

The answer returned was more than sufficient to comprehend this man.

Ah, this man too was not ordinary.

"Indeed. I understand now."

It was unavoidable that I muttered it aloud.

He bowed slightly and exited the room.

His movement was refined—suitable for a servant of a noble.

Indeed, he was a servant fit for the young lady he had addressed.

He opened the desk drawer and withdrew a specific document.

Detailed investigation report on the Kelen family.

He flipped through the stack of documents until locating the desired entry.

There, the name of a servant who had served Lady Kelen since childhood was listed.

Melazophis.

Among Kelen family servants, particularly favored, entrusted with complete confidence by the master.

Personality: serious and honest.

Yet not rigid. Appeared to be well-liked by colleagues as well.

The surroundings appear unchanged from the present.

Yet, though they seem unchanged, his inner self is unraveling.

He has discarded everything except one thing.

A person who abandoned even hatred toward the one who drove his beloved to death—such a person cannot be considered sane.

Records indicate that Melazophis had been deeply infatuated with Kelen’s wife.

And yet, he had earned the husband’s recognition and absolute trust.

The depth of such feelings—unknown to me, who did not live in that time—I can only imagine.

But it was certainly not a trivial emotion.

Having had his feelings trampled unjustly and lost his beloved, he faced the leader of the very organization responsible—yet showed no trace of hatred.

In a situation where he could have killed me without hesitation, he showed not the faintest trace of murderous intent.

Worse still, he appeared as still as a calm lake surface—no ripple of emotion at all.

Everything about him was directed toward the young lady, Sophia.

I was merely a stepping stone for Sophia’s growth.

To him, I was likely nothing more than that.

Utterly terrifying.

He was a monster wearing a human form.

His thoughts had already deviated beyond what could be called human.

Around Ariel, few people remained sane.

At best, only Sophia, the young lady, and Fermina were considered sane.

Even that was only in the sense that they did not cross into outright madness—still far removed from normality.

A long breath escaped, releasing the accumulated weight.

Then, after a brief pause, his hand resumed movement.

The task must be completed as quickly as possible.

There is no time.

Yes, to begin the great endeavor of dismantling the Divine Word Church.

Paraphrase

Melra "I hate this old man, he's insane..."

Pope "I hate this man, he's insane..."