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If reviving a dead friend had been completely impossible, they wouldn’t have even attempted it. However, the fact that it was possible, albeit in a clumsy manner, only led to despair because perfect success was unattainable.
In this absurd world, it seemed that the one unchanging truth was this: death could not be reversed by anything.
Since they had failed to bring back Ashir, they wouldn’t have even attempted it in Delphine’s case—besides, her body had never been found.
What they’d achieved was merely a restoration that resembled resurrection. While the bodies that were reanimated had the abilities, strength, and appearance of the living, they lacked the essence of the person they once had been.
They were nothing more than a moving taxidermy.
Such a thing could be used in war, but not for establishing relationships.
It might even surpass the original in utility as a combat machine, but it was utterly worthless to anyone who truly wished for a real resurrection, and could never be used for that purpose.
The mention of Ashir created an uneasy silence, and I didn’t bring it up again.
If, by some miracle, the dead could return… Everyone had to have considered that possibility, not just Cristina and Anna. Myself, Vertus, and even Sabioleen Tana must have all thought the same.
“Reinhart.”
“Yeah?”
“You can’t justify all of this, can you?”
“I didn’t think you were the type to care about such things.”
Vertus gave a bitter smile. “I didn’t think I’d become someone who cared about such things either.”
The hierarchy that defined our relationship before was now gone. We seemed like equals now that I had become the Demon King and he, the emperor.
No, it wasn’t even that. Vertus seemed to have taken on a more humble role.
We, who had once...
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