"T-that’s not my na."
She didn’t turn around right away.
"Moraine," he said softly.
Her back was to him, and he couldn’t see her face.
But he could way her shoulders tremble, and her hands clenched by her sides.
A faint sob escaped her lips.
She wiped her tears quickly, then turned to face him with a smile.
"Welco back."
The words ca out on their own.
She used to say them all the ti when he returned from hunting, or when he ca back from a long day in the market.
"I’m back," he replied, smiling.
Ti blurred after that.
That night, Moraine requested her al to be brought to her room.
She rarely dined with her family anyway.
Her status in the house was low, and she didn’t particularly enjoy forcing conversation at the dinner table.
Eating in her room, with him by her side, felt far more comfortable.
The two of them sat at the small table. She ate slowly, occasionally stealing glances at him.
She studied his face.
He looked the sa, physically.
But the way he carried himself had changed.
His movents were more composed. His gaze had weight to it.
He had grown, and not just in strength.
How many years had passed since her last death?
How long he’d been searching for her?
One thing was certain. Enough ti had passed for him to mature, and for him to turn into a respectable man.
But he hadn’t forgotten her.
A warmth, different from before, surged in her heart.
He raised his head and caught her staring.
"...What’s wrong?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
She quickly averted her gaze.
As he continued staring, she thought of a question to distract him.
"How did you find ?"
"Oh, that? With this."
He grinned, reached behind and pulled out a long, worn sword.
Its dark blade glead faintly under the light.
"It’s the Demon of Ruin, Vornaz."
"Ah."
"Seems like you know about it."
He nodded, and continued.
"Vornaz’s Authority that lets locate my ’target’. Once I specify a person as a target, the demon guides to them. But in return I have to fight them with everything I have, and they have to give it their all too. Until both sides give their best, the demon keeps sucking my life force."
He chuckled.
"Of course, I’m immortal, so I have unlimited life force. But it’s still annoying to have my life force sucked. So, how about a cooking battle later? You can go all out, and I’ll do the sa. That should satisfy the demon, right? It will certainly led to my win so the contract with the demon—"
He stopped talking.
Moraine was crying.
"Wait, why are you crying?" he asked, panic flickering across his face.
"You... hic... defeated Vornaz... hic... to find ..."
Tears stread down her cheeks.
To make a contract with Vornaz, one had to defeat it.
Among the known demons, Vornaz was ranked dangerously high.
He was ruthless, cunning, and powerful.
"I-Is this how you got the scar?" she asked, reaching out to touch the faint line across his cheek.
"You are a crybaby, do you know that?" He chuckled.
Despite his smile, she could see it.
He must’ve trained endlessly, and pushed himself to his limits—all so he could see her again.
Days after that were blissfully happy for Moraine.
She kept reincarnating, but he would always follow her.
She roughly regained her mories of reincarnation around fifteen to twenty years old.
From there, she would have to wait.
Every ti, within five years of her mories returning, he would co find her.
It made her smile endlessly.
She felt the delay of a few years before he found her was agonizingly slow, yet it made the mont they t all the sweeter.
After they t, they would begin again.
"Wow, this world has flying vehicles? The level of technology’s not bad."
"It’s beautiful."
The fact they had to keep moving their taverns beca a good mory. It allowed them to see the world.
"Ugh, this place is too damp. My hair keeps frizzing."
"You don’t like water?"
Moraine who hated dying, and the uncertainty it brought, started to look forward to her new lives.
She would always wonder what new things a world would bring, and what new places she would see with him.
"It’s a scenic mountain view here. We can make a fortune here with a cozy tavern."
"We should also update our nu. I thought of a new dish yesterday. Want to try cooking it for you?"
More and more, she found herself looking at him, not the world around them.
"People have wings here? I should thank the world, then. I can finally see you with wings."
"Don’t say embarrassing stuff!"
She found herself often smiling coquettishly at him.
The void she used to carry in her chest—one she had grown used to over her long, lonely life—was beginning to fill.
But...
She still didn’t cross the line with him.
Even after all these years, she kept a boundary between them.
She couldn’t explain it fully, not even to herself.
Whenever he reached for her hand, tried to intertwine their fingers, or when their faces grew too close, she would instinctively pull away.
And every ti, there would be a flicker of sadness in his eyes.
He would hide it quickly with a smile.
Seeing such a sad expression, she wanted to hold him. To kiss him. To tell him that she loved him.
She had felt that way for a long ti now.
But she didn’t.
Although she denied knowing the reason for her behavior, deep down she knew why she did that.
’A witch can only love once.’
Unlike humans or other beings, witches were immortal in a strange, cruel way.
They couldn’t die permanently, and their hearts only had enough space for one person.
Because of it, Witches refused to fall in love with people.
They loved abstract things: knowledge, rest, freedom, travel.
They dreaded loving a person.
’When a witch’s loved one dies, or leaves them, the witch would break apart.’
Moraine still rembered the hollow eyes of old witches.
’Witches are immortal.’
’Even if we feel so much pain in our heart that we want to die, we can’t.’
’We have to live eons with pain, and loss.’
Moraine was scared.
She feared of she would do to him if he found soone else in the future, and tried to leave her.
It wasn’t just one concern.
Immortality wasn’t invincibility. There were beings who could kill immortals.
Moraine feared waking up in a world where he didn’t exist anymore.
So she kept her distance.
That was her last defense.
She thought it would protect her.
Because if she ever admitted what she truly felt, if she let her love for him rise to the surface, she was afraid it would consu her.
She would be unable to live without him.
But then, the thing she feared most actually happened.
Eight years had passed since her reincarnation.
And he still hadn’t co.
Out of the hundreds of cycles she had gone through—hundreds of different lives—this was the first ti he didn’t find her.
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