Chapter 10 (Side Story) The Fate for a Romantic Death of a Certain Being (Part 2)

Cordelia watched its retreating figure with a hint of regret. 

“Ah… It’s gone.” 

Nathaniel watched her quietly today as well. Not because she was the singularity, but simply as a tender being. He intended to be by her side in his own way. 

She was mostly alone. 

Cordelia seemed to have come out to avoid her home again today. For her, home seemed to be a place she didn’t want to enter, as she sat near a tree, rubbing her eyes sleepily, passing the time idly. 

Occasionally, she marveled at newly blossomed flowers nearby, smiled upon discovering small fruits, and tilted her head curiously at herbs, wondering if they were medicinal. She picked some, musing, “Was this good for wounds?” and ground them with a stone, applying them to her exposed skin. 

Feeling a sharp pain, she let out a quiet “Ouch.” and looked upset. Then she quietly brought her knees together, buried her face, and let out a heavy sigh. It didn’t take long before the sound of her sniffles could be heard. 

“It’s hard…”

A small murmur was heard. It was a lament, so close to a whisper that if he hadn’t listened carefully, he might have missed it entirely. However, that monologue was clearly heard by Nathaniel. He looked at her with a deeply furrowed brow. 

Unconsciously, he clenched the fabric of his clothes at his chest and simultaneously felt a profound pain spreading from within. It was agonizing. For the first time, he understood what it meant to feel heartache. 

“Does it hurt? Is it hard?” 

He quietly asked. With a face full of sympathy, he approached her and sat next to her, leaning against the tree. Then he looked at her tearful face with sad eyes. 

It was frustrating that his voice couldn’t reach her.

***

Thus, Nathaniel’s daily routine gradually focused solely on watching over Cordelia and observing her daily life. 

His subordinates were initially puzzled by his behavior. Was it because she was the ‘singularity’? They tilted their heads, pondering, and concluded that perhaps it was reasonable. 

Among Grim Reapers like them, a ‘singularity’ referred to a being directly touched by the breath of the deity known as ‘Him’, unlike ordinary souls. Therefore, such beings lived an unstable life between extreme misfortune and extreme happiness. 

The issue was the soul that resulted from this.

Singularities could transform into sublime beings enlightened by their ordeals or, conversely, become corrupted. Moreover, they possessed the power to significantly affect the deaths of others. 

For Grim Reapers, souls after death needed to be stable enough to be manageable. 

However, in a previous incident involving a ‘singularity’, the process of corruption was underway, yet it was not properly managed. Consequently, it mixed with other souls passing through the path, and during the process of dealing with it, three Grim Reapers perished together. It was as if a sudden murder spree in broad daylight had occurred due to a madman. 

Since then, among Grim Reapers, the soul of a ‘singularity’ was regarded as a dreadful calamity. 

“I heard this singularity is living quite unhappily. Nathaniel seems to believe that corruption could progress at any moment, so he’s watching closely. If she suddenly dies, she’ll end up on the road to the afterlife mixed with other souls, and we might suffer trying to prevent it.” 

Fortunately, Nathaniel’s actions were well-packaged for such reasons. 

Therefore, his occasional absent-mindedness when away from her was also attributed to his strong sense of responsibility and focus on monitoring the singularity. 

No one considered it ‘interest’. 

To them, Nathaniel was the leader of the Grim Reapers, the oldest being among them, and simultaneously the most rational and cold-hearted. They were certain that such a person would never set his heart on a mortal, especially a being like a singularity, which was akin to a calamity. 

Moreover, for those who directly dealt with death, empathy and love were fatal words that could consume them. Hence, they couldn’t imagine their leader, who knew this better than anyone, being caught up in such emotions. 

But contrary to their expectations, Nathaniel gradually changed. 

“Just now… it felt like someone was here…” 

It was early one morning. 

Cordelia, having fled outside to escape her husband’s merciless violence after he returned home drunk the night before, was curled up asleep in an abandoned tent in the nearby woods. 

There was a trace of blood that had stopped flowing on her head. It was a wound from being hit by a flying liquor bottle. 

Even as blood dripped from her head, she felt relieved. Limping, she had run outside, saying, “Even if I die… I mustn’t die next to him…,” and came here. Then she slowly closed her eyes. She expressed her feelings, “Ah, I don’t want to open my eyes. I wish I could just die like this… I want to leave quickly. I hate this life…” 

Then, as the pale light began to rise, she suddenly opened her eyes. 

It was because she felt someone sitting beside her, gently touching her forehead. When she opened her eyelids slightly, she felt she saw something golden. More precisely, someone with golden hair. 

So, with a curious mind, she quickly opened her eyes and looked around, but then there was no one.

“What… Was it a dream… Ouch… It hurts…”

She raised her upper body unsteadily and looked around with a dazed expression. 

Then she tried to get up again but, feeling the pain in her head, lay back down and closed her eyes. 

“…Did you just see me?” 

At that moment, someone asked in a bewildered tone. It was Nathaniel. He had been sitting next to Cordelia, his hand lightly touching her forehead, which had been feverish until just moments ago, and he spoke as if he couldn’t believe it. 

He couldn’t believe that she, even by chance, had sensed him—a being who could do nothing but be present at her side. 

And at that moment, a sad joy spread across his face, which had been constantly furrowed with distress. 

“If only I could… reach you.” 

A confession like a monologue flowed quietly. 

But despite his words, Cordelia fell back asleep in the quiet dawn. 

Nathaniel reached out and placed his fingers on the hair flowing over her forehead. He wanted to brush it aside, as it was tickling her face, but no matter how much he wished, his hand could only graze her. 

“If it were me… I would let you sleep in a soft and warm place. I would plant the flowers and grass you love… as much as you want. I would never… never let you get hurt. I wouldn’t let you suffer alone in a place like this…” 

His vague wish painfully pierced his heart with comparison. It was a pain as if his dry heart was being squeezed. 

Ah, why am I such a being? Why can’t I reach her? 

For the first time, he was engulfed in doubt and self-reproach about his existence. 

Then, a cold dawn breeze blew from somewhere. As if she felt the chill in her sleep, she shivered and turned her body. It was beside where Nathaniel was sitting. 

He knew it was a coincidence. He knew it meant nothing. But at that moment, he felt happy as if she had come closer to him. He was happy, and at the same time, his heart ached. 

He slowly leaned over and encircled Cordelia as if to shield her from the wind. As if she were truly in his embrace. 

Imagining this, he gently moved his hand as if stroking her hair. Then he felt as if she were really in his arms. 

“Cold…” 

But despite his efforts, Cordelia still groaned from the cold. Soon, she began to cough dryly. 

“Ah…” 

I really can’t do anything. I am truly a being who can do nothing for you. 

At that moment, he realized something was falling onto his arms. Tears. He raised his hand to touch the unfamiliar moisture and, with a pained expression, looked out the window. And for the first time in his life, he called upon the presence of ‘Him’ toward the rising sun. 

Why did you make me like this? Why did you make me desire something I cannot have? Why did you place such a lovely being before my eyes, yet make it so I cannot touch it? 

“Why on earth…”

***

But despite the tearful question of that day, there was no answer from the deity. 

The one Nathaniel served always showed everything through the flow. He thought it was a punishment. A punishment for daring to have emotions as a component of the divine’s grand scheme. Or perhaps a mockery. If not, why else would he be shown such a sight? 

Cordelia’s situation worsened. She seemed to live in hell. 

Her husband, although not a singularity, was already a corrupted soul of the darkest kind, and he wielded his violence upon her. 

Nathaniel thought that if he had the authority to end that being’s life, he would have crushed, burst, and dismantled him from head to toe a thousand times over. But that was not within his realm of power. So, he could only watch in agony as she was gradually broken by that monstrous being. It felt like his own neck was being strangled. 

Then he realized. 

She was beginning to sense his presence not by chance but clearly. Cordelia saw him at the lowest points of her life. Eventually, she even asked, “Who are you?”

It was clear that she did not want to bear her husband’s child, and she eventually decided to poison herself. This was after she heard Levin drunkenly promise to sell the baby somewhere once it was born. 

Unfortunately, the poison didn’t lead her to death but instead induced premature labor, and she suffered greatly as she inched closer to death with every passing moment. When Levin used up the remaining money meant for the midwife on alcohol, a quack doctor was dragged in to handle the situation. 

The baby was born but didn’t survive long, and the aftercare for the mother was equally disastrous. With dirty hands and contaminated instruments, they forced her bleeding to stop, leaving the placenta inside her to rot. 

Thus, she was feverish, screaming in agony day after day, fainting repeatedly, until one day, in an empty house, she cursed her husband and died. 

“Levin… You too, must suffer, and die… Just like that…” 

At that time, Nathaniel had just returned from escorting the soul of her deceased child to the end of the flow. Innocent souls either head to the heaven created by the deity or embark on the path of reincarnation to experience life again. The child was sent to heaven. 

He looked down at the innocent face resembling hers with a pained expression, quietly letting go before returning to Cordelia. But by then, her soul had already left her body. 

“…Cordelia? No…” 

If things continued like this, he might not even get to see her drift away and would be separated from her forever. Nathaniel, pale as a ghost, hurriedly spurred his horse back to the path where souls pass.