Novel

She didn’t have a name. She couldn’t even remember the name that her parents might have given her when she was younger.

There were a fair amount of such orphans in any era. Children who had lost their parents before their egos had even fully formed, or children who had been swaddled in a cloth or placed in a basket and abandoned as soon as they were born.

She didn’t even know how she had come to be an orphan. All she knew was that starting at some point, she had been living in her alley. She was part of a gang of children with similar circumstances. Of course, older and larger individuals, people who stood on the border between childhood and adulthood, were in charge of the gang.

Each day was spent living hand-to-mouth. It was a life in which it wouldn’t have been strange if she had caught a disease, was beaten up, or even died at any time.

Most of the other children lived their lives while accepting this situation as if it was only natural. They were satisfied with just having enough to eat each day and a safe place to rest. They didn’t even have any thoughts about what might happen tomorrow, the day after, three days later, five days later, a week later, a month later, a year later, or at any point in the future.

But she was different. She wasn’t satisfied with this dirty, little back alley. As long as she got just a little bit older when this body of hers managed to sprout a little, she would definitely do something other than continue to beg. But that said, would that make it any easier for her to earn money? That wouldn’t really be the case.

The next part of her life would be spent peddling wildflowers in the back alleys[1]. The price of wildflowers would only be a pittance, and the little money that was earned from this job would just end up getting pocketed by the older teens. It would also increase the probability of her catching some kind of disease. There was no way any of the men who would come crawling into the back alleys to buy wildflowers were the clean type, and the girl was observant enough to tell that the most excited ones among them were usually also violent.

There were only a few years left until that would be her fate. Would she be able to survive if she left the back alleys? She decided that she would survive no matter what she had to do. Even though it might be dangerous, and she might even end up with an even more difficult life.

—What’s your name?

No matter how many plans she might have come up with and contemplated, in the end, she was still just a child, so her actions were also extremely childlike. When she was begging on the street, she always made sure to speak politely to an old woman who wouldn’t just pass by like the others but would always give her a few pennies whenever they met.

This happened frequently, as consistently as she could manage, so that the girl could get a better understanding of the other person, but all of her efforts must have seemed obvious to the old woman.

—I don’t have one.

She was telling the truth when she said that she didn’t have a name. The names that they used to address each other in the back alley were all merely nicknames that couldn’t really be considered actual names.

—In that case, allow me to give you a name.

The old woman was a witch, but she didn’t end up cooking the girl for her dinner. Instead, the girl became her servant.

She assisted the witch in a variety of different ways. The young girl did many things that only a girl like her could do. She lured in other children and tricked them into the old woman’s cauldron, committed petty theft for the witch, picked herbs and mushrooms in the mountains, and also wrote down what the old woman dictated.

The girl also learned a lot during this time.

It turned out she had a talent for it.

—Your name will be....

The girl killed the witch. She didn’t have any particularly impressive reason for doing so. In the first place, she didn’t have any desire for revenge on the witch. Instead, she actually felt grateful towards the old woman.

Thanks to the old woman, she was able to leave her alley. She learned how to write and how to use magic. She also learned the various tricks that she would need in order to survive in this world on her own.

If the old woman had good intentions for the girl, the girl wouldn’t have killed her. However, the witch only had malicious intent toward the girl. The witch had started becoming envious of her young and beautiful disciple.

No, since when had she even taken the girl as a disciple? She had obviously only taken this girl to use her as a servant for a short period of time. But at some point, the girl had become her disciple and leached away all of her talent. Or at least, that was what the witch thought. So the old woman decided to kill the girl with her own two hands, stew her up, and eat her.

That was why the girl had to kill her.

“Aria,” Noir muttered quietly.

Her name at that time hadn’t been Aria. The old woman had given her a different name, but it was one that wasn’t worth remembering. Even now, she couldn’t recall what it might have been.

Left on her own after killing the old woman, the girl had abandoned that name. She then gave herself a new name. Upon hearing that a certain country was hiring wizards to work in the royal palace, she headed there.

The deadline for applying to the position had been fast approaching, but that didn’t pose any problems for the girl. This was because plenty of wizards from her country had applied immediately after hearing the news and were traveling to the royal palace for the interview while filled with excitement.

The girl carefully took her pick and killed one of those wizards. She then stole that wizard’s face and identity, which was all she needed to do to get the position.

After entering the royal palace, she spent the next several decades there.

All because she wasn’t satisfied with living just for today. Chasing the future, she had left her alley and had transformed into the royal court witch.

—The Twilight Witch.

At some point, she began to be addressed more often by her nickname than her official name. This was something that she had planned. Being known by such a title rather than an actual name enabled her to mystically draw out more power from the worship of her followers.

That was how things had been in that era. In that era, through the worship provided by other humans, people were able to become something more than human. It was at that time that she entered the Evil Path and made plans for her ascension[2].

During the chaos sparked by the Demon King of Incarceration’s invasion, the royal court witch took the chance to turn the king and his ministers into her puppets, placing the entire kingdom beneath her feet.

In a certain sense, her actions were even more terrible than those of the demonfolk and the Demon Kings, as after she managed to wrest control of the country, she thoroughly tamed the populace by using both an enticing carrot and terrifying stick; her fearsome notoriety was such that even the monarchs of the surrounding nations were forced to turn their eyes away from her deeds.

This was the woman known as the Twilight Witch.

—Please....

But then she was defeated. The grand and imposing castle that the witch had built up around herself was left in ruins by the God of War.

Was it because she didn’t want to die?

Did she hope that her life wouldn’t just end like this? Did she have any regrets remaining?

Or perhaps....

—What’s your name?

Was it because she was captivated by the sight of the man standing with his back against the setting sun, his sword slung over his shoulder?

—Please grant me the honor of a new name.

She had never attached any special meaning to any of the names that she had held thus far. Naturally, this meant that she had never cherished or valued any of the names she had been given.

But the Twilight Witch sensed something instinctively.

She would be spending a very long time together with this man. So just as he had taken everything from her, one day she would also take everything from him.

For the sake of that goal, she would need to become someone who this man saw as special. She would also need to consider him as someone special to herself.

So she asked him for a name. Because she didn’t want to give him any one of those trifling names that she had never cherished, valued, or placed any special meaning in. She had made such a request to become someone special to him and for the sake of claiming him as someone special to herself.

“...Aria...,” Noir Giabella muttered faintly, gasping for breath as she stared at Eugene.

Aria, Aria... that name....

The memories that had been vaguely lingering in the back of her head came back into piercing clarity the moment Noir heard the name Aria.

As such, she couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Noir took a deep breath as she tried to silence her panting. She really didn’t want to think of that name as something special to her.

Noir struggled to speak, “I....”

Her eyes were full of turmoil and agitation. Eugene had never imagined that he would ever see such an expression on Noir Giabella, who had always exuded an air of composure and amusement.

If it had been for any other reason, then Eugene may have felt entertained by this. If it was a result of hitting Noir’s reverse scale[3], then Eugene may have even thought about actively taking advantage of it.

However, now, he wasn’t able to do that. This was because the name that seemed to be acting as a reverse scale for Noir, bringing out all these emotions and expressions that she was showing him, was also having the same effect on Eugene.

The response brought about after being provoked by the name Aria seemed to be much stronger than the responses that had arisen from the names Twilight Witch and the Saint of the God of War.

But that was why Eugene had to dig even deeper.

Everyone looked over in surprise when Noir suddenly attacked Eugene. Naturally, Sienna, the Saints, and all the others had tried to approach Eugene, but Eugene just held his hand out to stop them from approaching and indicated that everything was fine.

“Why stop them?” Noir spat out.

Her eyes still looked like they were about to burst into tears at any moment.

Staring up into those wavering eyes, Eugene said, “Just because.”

“Just because...?” Noir repeated in a trembling voice. Her hand suddenly shot out to grab Eugene by the collar as she continued, “A-aren’t you taking me far too lightly? If it weren’t for the fact that I love you, and I don’t want you to die at a place like this, then I-I would.... There is nothing stopping me from killing you right here, right now.”

It was hard for the current Eugene even to move his body. If Noir was to apply even a little more force, she would be able to break his neck as easily as if she was snapping a dry branch.

To prove that what she had said wasn’t just a bluff, Noir made a show of mustering up her killing intent. However, Eugene’s expression didn’t change in the slightest.

Still looking straight into Noir’s tearful eyes, Eugene resumed speaking to her, “I just thought that the two of us needed to have a conversation right here, right now.”

“...,” Noir remained silent.

“You said that I’m taking you lightly? Do you really think that is the case? Until now, I have never once taken you lightly,” Eugene said sincerely.

This was the Queen of the Night Demons, Noir Giabella — one of Eugene’s oldest foes. Eugene had never once taken her strength or the significance of her identity lightly. So much so that, while he might verbally deride her as the Queen of the Sluts, whenever he tried to imagine what it would be like to fight her, the first image that came to mind was of his own defeat.

“...A conversation...,” Noir muttered in a small voice.

That name had triggered something in her head. These memories kept unfolding in her mind. Noir closed her eyes as she tried to catch her breath once more.

She let go of his collar. However, her hand didn’t pull away. Instead, it drifted a little closer to Eugene. Noir’s soft, pale hand caressed Eugene’s cheek.

Fwooosh!

A pair of bat-like wings unfurled on Noir’s back.

“I don’t want anyone else to see this,” Noir whispered in a low voice.

Her wings were as large as the ones on Apollo, a pegasus. After unfurling into the air, her wings slowly lowered to the ground, covering both Eugene and Noir from outside view.

“I don’t want anyone to hear this either,” Noir explained to Eugene.

Eugene didn’t try to stop her actions. This was because he felt the same way. Although he might have revealed to certain key people that he was Hamel’s reincarnation, he hadn’t said anything about being Agaroth’s reincarnation.

What was the point of even talking about it in the first place? Unlike Hamel, who was from three hundred years ago, Agaroth was someone from the long-distant mythical era.

The topics that he would be discussing with Noir from this point onwards would be a story that was difficult for people from this era to understand.

‘Though I feel like this will lead to some pointless misunderstandings,’ Eugene thought regretfully, but after giving it some more thought, he decided that it wasn’t really a big deal.

It wasn’t like today was the first time something like this had happened. Noir had previously stormed into the banquet being held in Shimuin to congratulate Eugene, and they had also had a secret conversation after that as well.

Then, soon after their late-night secret rendezvous at Giabella Park, their photos had spread all over the continent.

So what if this led to some more misunderstandings? Such misunderstandings had already been spread a long, long time ago.

“You really are being thorough,” Eugene observed with a frown as he stared directly into Noir’s face, which hovered right in front of him.

Her wings weren’t just blocking any sights or sounds from leaving their enclosure. Even the voices of Mer, who was still in his cloak, as well as Sienna and the Saints, with whom Eugene had a mental connection, could no longer be heard. This was because of the powerful magical barrier that Noir had cast through her outspread wings.

“It’s because I wanted to keep this conversation between just the two of us,” Noir whispered.

Her wings were covering them on all sides, creating pitch-black darkness even deeper than the night outside. However, even in the midst of this darkness, Eugene’s face was still clearly visible to Noir.

Noir’s emotions had settled slightly.

“You’re the one who said we should have this conversation, my dear...,” Noir hesitated just as she was about to say his name, “Hamel.”

She experienced a slight difficulty when it came to deciding which name to use, but she still chose to say that name. For Noir, that was the only name that she wanted to use.

“Just how long are you planning to stay so close to me?” Eugen complained with a grumble.

Noir’s face was far too close to his. Her lush hair had fallen down around Eugene, surrounding him like a blackout curtain. The jingling ring had also been lowered when she pounced on him, and it was now resting on Eugene’s collarbone.

“I..,” Noir slowly began to speak as both her hands came up to cradle Eugene’s cheeks.

Slowly, ever so slowly... her hands began to move. Her long fingers delicately caressed Eugene’s cheeks, tracing the outline of his face.

“Until I am satisfied,” Noir selfishly insisted. Nêww 𝒄hapters will be fully updated at (n)ov(𝒆)l/bin(.)com

She wanted to focus on this tactile experience of her fingers physically touching him. She wanted something real, something that was physically present right in front of her, something that she could see and touch, not something that existed only in her memories. Biting down on her bottom lip, Noir continued to trace Eugene’s face.

She bit down on her lip even harder as she felt despair at remembering something she shouldn’t have remembered. The scent of blood began to be carried on Noir’s breath.

The same thing also applied to Eugene. He had been forced to spit out blood several times during the battle.

They both smelled the blood on each other’s breath.

The scent of blood created a strong connection between them. It seemed to fill the empty spaces in their faded memories, and they both pictured their final moments together.

“...Haha,” Noir unconsciously began to laugh.

She leaned her head slightly forward, getting even closer.

The distance between them was already far too close. It was to the point where her eyes were no longer able to take in Eugene’s full appearance. Yet even so, it didn’t matter to Noir. Because she could still feel his face with her fingertips as she looked into his eyes.

“I don’t think there’s much resemblance,” Noir quietly muttered. “He looked a bit rougher. Hmm, not in a crude way. I get the impression that he was quite the... impressive specimen of a man. The sort of man who looks good in armor. A man who was good at riding horses. The kind of man who looks natural when wielding a huge sword.”

“...,” Eugene stayed silent.

Noir continued, “The sort of man who gets along well when surrounded by other men. A man who was good at shouting commands. A man well-suited to being on the battlefield.”

He had bushy hair. Intense eyes. Stark facial features. While he was quite flirtatious, when the time came to be serious, he was extremely serious. He would smile when he was enraged, and he was sensitive about the things that belonged to him....

“Ahahaha...,” Noir let out another peal of laughter. “No, on second thought, you really do resemble him.”

She wasn’t talking about his face. The resemblance was in their attitude, the air they gave off, and other things like that.

“Is that so,” Eugene responded with a wry smile.

They weren’t exactly the same. This was only natural because, in the end, they were two different people. However, he couldn’t deny that there was a resemblance between him and Agaroth.

“It’s just a resemblance. I am not Agaroth,” Eugene stated firmly.

“What about me?” Noir asked with a smile. “Do you think I resemble her?”

“A little,” Eugene answered.

Noir nodded, “Indeed. Though I probably don’t resemble her too greatly. Because, in the first place, she was a human, while I am a Night Demon.”

“Probably,” Eugene agreed.

“But then why...” Noir trailed off.

At some point, Noir’s hands, which had been caressing his face, suddenly appeared around Eugene’s neck. However, her hands weren’t strangling his throat.

Noir’s fingertips gently caressed the hollow of Eugene’s neck. Ever so delicately, as if she was stroking a fragile glass bead.

“Then why, why did you call me by that name?” Noir finished.

He had called her Aria.

“I don’t like that name,” Noir informed him. “Because I am not her.”

“I did it because I wanted to check something,” Eugene replied.

“Check something?” Noir repeated as her lips twisted in a frown.

If that was the reason, it had proved very effective. In the beginning, Noir didn’t want to reveal her awareness of this to Eugene. Even though it might be revealed someday, eventually....

And even if it hadn’t been revealed, they both would have probably noticed this awareness in each other soon, but....

Noir hadn’t wanted to say anything now, not when her thoughts and emotions weren’t in order. However, the moment she heard the name Aria... her body had started moving on its own.

“I also need to check something,” Noir told him, her head lowering a bit further.

Within the darkness of her outspread wings, Eugene and Noir’s lips touched.

1. The author doesn’t say this out loud, but this is pretty clearly a euphemism for prostitution, in case that wasn’t clear enough. ☜

2. The author is using immortal cultivation terminology here for those familiar with that genre of fiction. For those unfamiliar, ascension means ascending to a higher plane of existence and basically becoming an immortal being like a god. The Evil Path is in contrast to the Righteous Path, and like the name suggests, it makes heavy use of what could be considered selfish and evil methods to increase your own power. ☜

3. This refers to the Asian myth that dragons have a reverse scale somewhere on their body that serves as their weak point and can send them into a rage if touched. A Western alternative might be the berserk button. ☜