The Extra Wants To Live

Garten silently screamed, moving as best as he could.

He was about to curse anything visible through his black eyes that were still his own. But even though his voice could be heard, he was alone in this space.

The unseen and unfelt force slowly seeped in. When it tried to enter through his mouth, Garten closed it, but the force continued to crawl in through his nose, ears, and his severed throat.

*Kkaaaaaaah!*

Garten screamed without making a sound. More than just pain, his soul was being torn apart.

He squeezed his eyes shut with all his might, but how much power can eyelids have?

His tender eyelids, unable to bear it any longer, split open, and his black eyes, which were never truly his to begin with, were pulled out.

The cursed eye that had taken root in his soul was plucked out, and his soul was torn apart by the force of the cruel and thoughtless plucking.

"Really, it's undercooked," the being grumbled.

*Give it back...*

Garten's lips trembled.

However, there was no reason to leave behind a motherboard that had served its purpose.

His words became no sound, his grumbling became no curse, and the severed head, as a severed head should be, became silent.

*Splash.*

Garten's head, the black-eyed mopan, fell into the pool of blood in the center.

The blood that had risen along the messily drawn picture on the floor gradually increased in heat, and soon a bright red blood fog rose up.

At that moment, the full moon, which had been slowly tilting through the hole in the ceiling, filled up.

*Brrrrr!*

The light of the full moon poured down, filling the space. The light flowed through the blood mist and soon dyed everything red. The blood boiled madly and spewed out more fog.

As the full moon, which had risen high, tilted and fell, everything sank.

---

Everything passed in an instant, but there was plenty of time.

There wasn't a single drop of blood left inside the cave. Just a mark on the ground, a faint smell of blood, and...

As the moonlight waned and darkness slowly crept in, a pair of black eyes appeared. A mysteriously swaying light rose from them as they floated in the air without eyelids.

It soon disappeared as if it had evaporated.

In the center of the cave where silence lingered, inside the deep-dug pit, there was nothing left.

---

Thanks to Milton's constant treatment whenever his mana recovered, Carl, who was the last to receive treatment, was finally able to move normally.

The Laurel Division, or more precisely the 3rd Army of the Central Army dispatched to suppress the rebellion, was moving to Sambison to join them.

"Your Highness, you have a silver staff necklace, yet you do not pray," Vire asked, seemingly puzzled.

Carl did not answer.

"Aren't you praying to Lord Duren?" Vire asked again.

But if this little fanatic asked the same question twice without getting an answer, it meant she could ask it a hundred times more.

Having learned this over the past two days, Carl was at a loss.

"I got this from my mother," Carl finally said.

"Wow! Your mother really loves you, Grand Duke!" Vire exclaimed.

"Yes," Carl replied.

'Hey, look at that mama's boy. As soon as Lillys words comes up, his voice changes.'

Harmon grumbled to himself, feeling a little strange that Carl had referred to Lilly as "mother" in front of an outsider like Vire.

"Your Highness's mother seems very devout, but doesn't Your Highness pray to Lord Duren?" Vire persisted, returning to the topic.

He was as relentless as a fanatic.

When Carl remained silent, Vire pressed on. "Does Your Highness also believe that Lord Duren is not here?"

"No, God exists," Carl replied immediately, not just to swat away the annoying buzz of questions but because he genuinely believed it.

"Then why don't you pray?" Vire asked, puzzled by Carl's response.

It was rare for priests to be so convinced of the existence of God, especially since many brought into the church were those who couldn't wield divine power.

"Nothing is accomplished by prayer. It is nothing more than finding a cramped room to hold your weak heart," Carl said, looking down at Vire, who was riding beside him.

His mother, Lilly, knew better than anyone that she was praying fervently for Carl, and Carl was fully aware that saying such things to a member of the Sisterhood of Duren, known for their fanaticism, wasn't exactly wise.

"… Your Highness is very strong," Vire said after a moment, not rebuking Carl for his impiety. He seemed to think deeply, nodded, and then praised Carl, just as he had before.

Carl looked at Vire quietly, somewhat surprised by his reaction.

"Did you think I would suddenly jump up and start waving my cane in anger?"

"Yes."

"I am not that kind of inconsiderate person."

"… …"

"Of course, there are some radical ones among the sisters, but not that many, and they don't hit people…"

Vire mumbled an excuse and then smiled, showing a bit of the girlish charm of someone her age.

"Lynaa told me that it's better not to discuss faith with people who believe in God but don't rely on Him," Vire added.

"Why?" Carl asked.

"For them, they themselves are like gods, so there is no room for religion."

Carl was silent for a moment, thinking about Lyanna. He had initially thought of her as a total lunatic, but it seemed she was capable of higher-level thought.

"Oh, come to think of it, Lyanna seemed very happy to see the Archduke," Vire said, following Lyanna teachings and never discussing faith with Carl again.

Instead, she said something that sent a chill down Carl's spine. "That madwoman is happy to see Carl. And Harmon too."

"... What?"

Harmon, who had been silent because his brain couldn't process the statement, suddenly started and pointed at himself in disbelief.

"A person with faith cannot be broken. Regardless of religious beliefs, they are very valuable beings. This is what Lyanna said," Vire continued.

"... Okay."

Carl tried to ignore Vire's words, but then he answered, albeit quietly. It wasn't for nothing that Lyanna had attached this little fanatic to Carl.

Even during the battle, Vire and Lyanna had fought as a team, and it had become apparent that Lyanna was particularly concerned about Vire.

Despite her young age, Vire, a member of the Sisterhood who performed her duties well, was too talented to remain a mere combatant.

She might be nominated as the next head of the Sisterhood or, after gaining experience, could rise to the rank of a high-ranking priest such as an archbishop or cardinal.

Politically, it certainly wouldn't be a bad thing for someone like Vire to develop a small friendship with the Archduke of the Empire, Carl.

It would be beneficial for both the Duren Church and the Empire.