21 Minor curse

21 Minor curse

Meanwhile….

“We’ve been roaming this place for three hours.” Only your breath is considered noisy other than the sound of silence that lingers in this long hallway.

Eve crossed her arms snugly around her chest and gave him a dramatic roll of her eyes.

“Tsk. She muttered, 'How did you become a knight before?' her voice dripping with disbelief. “This is your expertise, so this job is already easy for you.”

Turning her back to him she scanned the walls for any hidden mechanisms. Pretending to be disinterested.

Vincent folded his arms and scoffed. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t got no mouth to speak whatever I say; I’m a knight.” That is why I detested my supervisor before, because he would just let me eat his shits to save himself.”

His tone sharpened with each word as he paced a few steps ahead. ‘Naturally I didn't let him.’ I didn't give birth yesterday. He couldn’t fool me that easily.”

“Tsss. You are such a chatterbox.” Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Eve shook her head. “I didn't ask your story.”

Vincent smirked over his shoulder: “I don’t care,” he said flatly.

They continued down the dim hallway, their footsteps echoing against the cold stone and an awkward silence ensued.

Vincent broke the hush, his voice now laced with curiosity, “by the way.” Have you not felt the strike of eating anyone? Seeing yourself as none of those beings is rather surprising.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, she glanced sideways at him. “You, all, aren’t even called like that between Human and Undead.”

“Sometimes, we were wondering if you are considered human, because I couldn’t even feel like biting you,” Eve answered sarcastically, her lips twitching into a smirk as she strode ahead without looking back.

Vincent stopped mid-step, staring at her with a frown. “Was that a compliment or an insult?”

She shrugged over her shoulder, casually tossing her hair aside as she walked. “Drag yourself to believe between those.”

Vincent squinted at her retreating figure. “Hey, what do you mean by that?”

Eve didn’t answer. The only sound was the echo of her boots tapping steadily against the stone floor, leaving him to stew in the ambiguity.

Vincent groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re impossible.”

Eve merely chuckled under her breath, amused, but said nothing more.

*****

As Lourdez ran up the stairs toward the upper floors of Building 02, a sudden pang of pain struck her chest. She paused to catch her breath, but the pain refused to subside. It lingered stubbornly, even as the first rays of sunlight began to creep across the horizon. The sensation was paralyzing.

She had no history of heart ailments—no known disease at all—yet whatever she was feeling now was quickly overpowering her.

“Just as I thought... that minor curse is starting to slow her down,” I murmured, watching her from a distance, hidden within my ward room.

“Now that she’s stopped, it’s time for him to escape,” I added quietly.

The Guardian of Death didn’t appear to be seriously injured. With Lourdez incapacitated, he had the perfect chance to flee—no one stood in his way now.

The minor curse is a simple skill I managed to bring with me. I can only use it once a week without leaving a trace, so I have to be careful not to waste it. In the past, I could cast it freely, whenever I pleased. But now, trapped in someone else’s body, the skills I once mastered without effort have all weakened.

“The sun is almost up. I hope that man gets away before sunrise,” I muttered with a sigh.

But the breath barely left my lips when a blade pressed against my throat, sharp enough to choke the air out of me.

“A minor curse… Where did you learn that?” a cold voice whispered near my ear.

Trevor.

He’s awake.

I froze. I hadn’t sensed him at all. I was sure he’d been sleeping soundly, especially after that concealment spell Grandma cast on him. It was supposed to keep him under for hours—undisturbed and unaware.

And yet, here he is, standing right behind me, his knife kissing my skin and his presence pulsing with suspicion.

How did he break through it?

“So, you’re not just an ordinary human, are you?” I asked with a low voice and playfulness.

“Just answer me,” He said calmly, I grabbed his hand that held the knife. As I suspected—he had no intention of killing me. Not even to hurt me. His grip was strong, but it lacked the will to follow through.

I slipped free from his grasp with ease.

“Good morning, Trevor,” I said, turning to face him with a smile. I didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over briefly—lost in thought for a second—before his expression twisted.

“Creepy,” he muttered, disgust plain on his face.

He really said that. Right in front of me. Wearing that expression.

How could he!

“Lift that curse,” he snapped.

I raised an eyebrow at him, then leaned back against the window’s edge, the cool glass pressing against my back.

“That wasn’t a heavy curse,” I said, casually brushing my fingers against the sill. “Grandma can’t be killed with something so minor. It’ll wear off before sunrise anyway.”

“I don’t care. Just lift it,” Trevor said bluntly.

My jaw dropped at his attitude. “Seriously?”

“You’re weird,” I added, giving me a bored, deadpan look.

“You’re weirder than me,” He shot back.

“We’ve known each other for two years, and I never noticed you had the power to sense curses.”

“Are we just being even now?” he said, his eyes narrowing. I gave him a disbelief look and said.

“You’re pretty good at concealing your senses. How did you manage to hide that from me?”

“Illeon,” He said, “Senses are a completely different thing compared to curses—”

“It seems like you mean another meaning.” I interfered.

“I’m not joking around,Illeon.” As well I.

“Like me,” he said quietly, “we can still call ourselves ordinary humans… but compared to mortals, we’re something else entirely. To them, we’re unnatural. And curses… curses stand against mortality itself.”

His words wiped the playfulness from my face. I stared at him, a flicker of disdain in my eyes.

“I’m not killing her,” I said firmly.

“But you still used a curse.”

Because that’s all I could do right now. How else was I supposed to stop her without being seen? Among all the skills I had left, curses were the fastest—and the only one subtle enough.

“Trevor, are you trying to start a fight right now?” I snapped.

As the first rays of sunlight spilled into the room, the curse I’d placed on Grandma lifted. Red leaves fluttered in through the open window, spiraling back into my palm. The curse had run its course.

“I’m not trying to fight you,” Trevor said calmly. “And I’m not here to invade your privacy.”

“Privacy?” I scoffed. “This isn’t about privacy. I just don’t like the way you twist your words.”

He sighed, then looked at me—really looked at me. His eyes softened, his voice quieter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No…” I shook my head and took a half step back. “What is so wrong of using curses?”

He opened his mouth but I raised my hand and cut him off.

“No. “I don’t want your responses anymore,” I said, my voice strong, low. “You’re a bit annoying right now.”

A silence fell between us for a beat — heavy, tense and final. I didn’t even bother looking at him. I simply turned away, allowing my words to fall like dust.

Mortality? Such a small word but has deeper meanings. Mortality might seem the same as humanity... but they’re not.

Mortality is the condition of being bound to die—of living with the constant truth that everything ends. It’s a limitation, a countdown.

Humanity, on the other hand, is the essence of being human—not just the body, but the choices, the compassion, the flaws, and the strength to endure despite knowing we’re mortal.

You can be mortal without ever embracing humanity. And you can show humanity even if you’re not mortal.