Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 108 - Gnandelose Sonne

"So, it has to be fast. We don't want her to scream," Michael said, frowning at his own words as he addressed Anne.

'What am I even saying?' he thought, his gaze dropping to the ground as if searching for his reflection, trying to decipher what kind of expression he wore.

'I don't want Lizzy to scream while I use this on her? Is that what I'm saying right now?' His eyes shifted to the mark on his palm as he held it up, studying it.

'Just...' His focus flicked to Anne, who was watching him intently. In that brief moment, he noticed the faint bags under her eyes.

'What have I done to her? Were they really in danger? Such danger that warranted something like this...?' The question gnawed at him as he took in her weary face.

'She's so stressed she can't even sleep... I should stop this.' He lowered his hand, the mark disappearing from view, but a memory surfaced, unbidden and sharp.

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"This feels wrong, Bernard," Michael murmured, standing in the opulent room of Bernard's mansion, the seal heavy in his hands. "To mark them as slaves...?"

"Mikey, Mikey..." Bernard clicked his tongue three times, pacing back and forth with a confidence that radiated from his every step. His back was straight, his movements deliberate.

"You know, I remember how much we fought as kids. Even now. But the older I got, the more I understood something about you—and about us. We're not so different, you and I. But there's one big difference: you're too pure, Mikey." He stopped to face Michael, his sharp gaze unwavering, while his entourage lingered silently in the corners of the room.

"The more I observed the enemies my father dealt with, and people in general, I realized something—you can't beat evil with good." He paused mid-step, turning toward Michael and leaning closer, lowering his voice as he whispered into his ear.

"Take... you, for example," Bernard murmured as his groupies exchanged knowing looks.

Michael flinched, his eyes darting back to the seal in his hands.

"You were so virtuous, so righteous. And what did your mother and sister do? They left you and your father to the dogs—all because some bastard was more cunning than you—"

"YOU DON'T TALK ABOUT THEM!" Michael roared, shoving Bernard back. His fists clenched, his teeth grinding as fury erupted within him. Bernard's two followers stiffened, ready to intervene, but he calmly raised a hand to stop them.

"Am I wrong, Mikey?" Bernard asked softly, his gaze piercing as he studied Michael's torn expression.

"...." Michael didn't respond, processing Bernard's words.

Before long, Bernard extended his palm toward Michael.

"Give it back," he said abruptly.

"W-What?" Michael stammered, jolted from his thoughts.

"This was a mistake. You're too pure," Bernard said, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

"But maybe that's not such a bad thing. Maybe this Van Hellix isn't as terrible as we think. Perhaps Anne and Lizzy are just... more interested in him. That happens sometimes—it's no one's fault."

Michael stood frozen, replaying Bernard's words in his mind. Memories surfaced; the way Van shooed him from her house and how he allowed himself to drape his arm over her neck. The way Anne decided to date Van after only days of knowing him. How they both left the guild after just 1 hour of work - not nearly enough time to actually get any work done. And then there was Lizzy's expression—the way she looked at Van, as though he occupied every corner of her mind. Bothered. Consumed.