Shhhhhhhh.
In the thick of night, Clay stood drenched by a downpour, wearing a blank expression.
“What… What the hell happened?”
He raised a hand to his neck. There should’ve been marks from the noose, but no matter how much he felt around, he found nothing.
The very fact that his broken neck had somehow healed was bizarre enough.
“Did I really… come back to life?”
He considered whether this was the afterlife. But as he looked around, he quickly ruled that out.
This was Ezer’s territory.
Sigh.
Realizing he was truly alive didn’t bring joy, only a heavy, sinking feeling.
“Even if I’m alive, does it even count as living?”
He had lived as a Hero. And yet, he died in disgrace, executed by those he fought beside. Being revived didn’t erase that dishonor.
“Hm.”
He still didn’t know how he had come back, and standing around in the rain wouldn’t help.
He stood and began walking across the wet ground.
His destination…
“Guess I’ll go there for now.”
There was only one place he could go without worrying about being seen.
So, step by step, Clay trudged off into the rain.
♧
“…Huh?”
At the spot Clay had just left behind stood Yelena, who had wandered there after leaving the tavern where she’d been drinking.
“What… is this?”
At the place where Clay should’ve been buried, there was now a shallow hole. Rainwater pooled and drained into it like a sink.
“Who…”
She hadn’t been ready to lay eyes on his corpse. Not only that—executed criminals weren’t allowed to have their bodies recovered.
Even so, unable to bear the grief, she had come to move his remains herself.
“Who took him?”
But someone had already stolen Clay’s corpse. The authorities never revealed where criminals were buried, so she’d only learned of this place through desperate effort.
“Who did this?”
She collapsed to the ground and began clawing at the dirt.
“Did it cave in?”
Still tipsy, her empty eyes stared as she dug into the earth.
BOOM!
Thunder roared overhead, making her flinch and clutch her head.
“No…”
She began to mumble as though her mind had broken.
“It wasn’t me. I swear it wasn’t. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t know it would end like this. I really didn’t…”
She dug and dug, but the grave was empty.
Falling into the muddy hole, she wept.
“Clay… I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. Please come back. Please… I’m begging you…”
Her cries melted away into the rain, unheard.
♧
“Still here, huh.”
A demon stronghold near the wastelands.
There were no demons left—he and the others had cleared this place long ago. The only building left standing was half-destroyed.
Step, step.
Still, it was enough to get out of the rain. As he took off his soaked clothes to wring them out, Clay noticed the sealing circles still engraved on his body.
“These are still here, too.”
His injuries were gone, but the magical restraints remained. He sighed in frustration. There was no way he could fight properly like this.
“I can still feel… mana.”
He could probably use basic magic. He lit a small flame and built a campfire. Then he leaned a few branches together to hang his clothes to dry.
Crackle…
The kindling quickly caught and began to dry his clothes. Clay sat down to rest his eyes. Even though he’d technically “rested” in death, exhaustion clung to him.
Just a moment…
His eyes snapped open again when he heard voices nearby.
“!”
Still groggy from sleep, Clay hastily snuffed the fire, grabbed his clothes, and slipped behind a broken pillar.
He dressed quickly and listened. A group of people entered the ruined building he’d just vacated.
“Damn, why’s it gotta rain like this?”
“Right? Of all days to be on outside patrol…”
Grumbling voices.
They were Ezer soldiers.
“Hey, are we even allowed in here? Isn’t this area restricted?”
“Who cares? The Demon King’s dead. The demons here were wiped out ages ago.”
“Huh?”
One of them raised a question.
“Wait a second… Someone’s been here.”
He had found signs of Clay’s campfire.
“Looks like they lit a fire.”
“Really?”
“Think they’re still around?”
Clay stiffened and held his breath. But luckily, they didn’t dig deeper.
“Probably some vagrant passing through.”
“Even if they’re still here, so what? We’re elite Ezer soldiers.”
“True enough.”
They laughed among themselves. Clay sighed quietly in relief, but kept listening.
“By the way, about Her Majesty…”
They began talking about Tia.
“They say she’s been sick away ever since the Hero’s execution.”
“Sick? Didn’t she show up at that banquet recently?”
“You didn’t hear? She almost collapsed multiple times that night.”
They spoke of how Tia couldn’t eat properly anymore, how she was growing weaker by the day.
Clay gave a cold, bitter chuckle.
“She’s the one who passed the sentence.”
They had been childhood friends.
They’d promised, no matter what, to trust each other.
Even if it had only been a childhood vow, Clay had believed in her.
If their positions had been reversed, he would’ve never let her die. He wouldn’t have sat on the throne and passed judgment on her.
Clay clenched his fists.
“Whoa, look at the time.”
“We should get moving. We’ll get chewed out if we’re late again.”
“If we say we were stuck in the rain… no, that’ll just make it worse.”
The soldiers gathered their things and left the building.
Clay stepped out from behind the pillar and sighed.
“Even after coming back, there’s no place for me. What a joke.”
He waited until he could no longer hear their footsteps, then slumped to the ground.
“First, I need to deal with these seals.”
They were draining his stamina faster than normal, probably because of the restrictions they imposed.
But there was no way he could ask the priests for help.
“…Wait.”
Inside the old demon shrine, Clay spotted a Brand.
It looked like a torture device, but if pressed against the right part of the body, it would imprint a Demon-style Stigmata—one powerful enough to erase holy magic seals drawn with divine power.
“This won’t remove them completely… but it should break the suppression.”
It was the best option he had.
Hssss.
He relit the fire and held Brand to the flame.
“Whew…”
His body tensed at the pain to come. But compared to the terror of dying, this was nothing.
Clay turned the red-hot Brand toward his own body and pressed it into his skin.
“Ghhhk!”
BOOM!
Lightning lit up the night.
And in that blinding flash, a demonic mark—the kind no Hero would ever brand upon himself—burned vividly into Clay’s flesh.
♧
“Here it is, Your Majesty.”
Several days later.
Upon learning that Clay’s body had disappeared, Tia ordered the Royal Guard to investigate.
They now reported having found signs of activity near the site where Clay had been buried.
“Are you sure?”
Tia’s eyes, cold and dull, turned toward the soldiers giving the report.
Under the weight of her withering gaze, the soldiers shrank back.
“Y-Yes, Your Majesty!”
“There were definitely traces of a fire!”
But in truth, there were no such traces at the demon shrine.
“Your Majesty,” said the Royal Guard Captain.
“We erased them, but someone was here. That much is certain.”
“Your evidence?” she asked.
“We recovered a Brand—the kind used to inscribe forbidden Stigmata.”
He handed her the demonic tool recovered from the shrine.
“It looks like it was used not long ago.”
At his words, Tia clenched her small fist tightly.
“How far could they have gone?”
“Not far, I’d guess. It was pouring rain, and carrying a corpse through that would’ve been grueling.”
“I see…”
Tia bit her lip and issued her command.
“Find them.”
“Should we kill them?”
“No. Bring them back alive.”
She needed to show them what happened to those who stole what should never have been taken.
(End of Chapter)