After the sun set and I was afforded a moment of reprieve, I made my way to Rachel’s room.

She had been living luxuriantly, considering her lifestyle beforehand. She got to eat as she wanted, was able to clean herself, and was dressed in clothing that wasn’t torn to shreds and stained with blood.

But none of it seemed to matter, considering her eyes that continued to look at everything with carelessness.

Lounging around on the bed with an assortment of fruits by her bedside, she looked like a spoiled noble woman who only sought the pleasures in life, unable to bother herself with any kind of laborious task. She seemed slothful, detached, bored.

But as I looked at her from the doorway of her room, I was able to see the issue that lied far beneath her stunningly gorgeous exterior. Her perfect shell hid the truth well, but not well enough.

“It’s interesting to think how no fear equates to no survival instincts. Since even if I plunged a knife into your neck by surprise, it wouldn’t bother you much.”

“Hm?”

Rachel finally turned at my voice, yet still continued to chew on a fruit with dull eyes.

“Oh, Lord Audius. Thank you for saving me before.”

“Saving you?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.

“Please, we both know you didn’t need any saving. I mean, it’s not like you can die anyway.”

“...That’s true.”

Perhaps because she didn’t expect my words, she responded with a bit of emotion.

I nodded to the fruit she was eating.

“So? Do you really need to eat to survive?”

“No. My powers keep me from starving or thirsting. But I still get hungry and thirsty, so I like to eat. Plus, food like this tastes good.”

*Crunch*

She took another bite while I pondered.

The depth of her powers truly were great. She could burn, starve, thirst, and nothing would kill her. She could be thrown into the barren desert and live indefinitely. She was likely the most resilient creature in this world. Only by trapping and sealing her away could you disable her.

Without knowledge of her powers, it would be impossible to do anything to her.

After a few moments of silence, I changed the topic.

“I heard that you were hurting yourself with one of the kitchen knives.”

“Oh, do you find that weird too?”

“Actually, no.”

I surprised her with my answer before leaning forward and looking into her eyes.

“Tell me, what did it feel like? Was it perhaps, like scratching an itch?”

“...Yeah.”

She brightened up just a bit, her focus turning away from her fruit and toward me.

“Sometimes it feels good. I do it every once and a while, otherwise I start feeling weird.”

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know. Everything just starts to feel… itchy. My skin gets uncomfortable and sweaty, and sometimes I cry a bit.”

She casually listed off her symptoms, perhaps happy that someone was interested in her reality.

And in my mind, I confirmed some of my thoughts.

First was that, for her, pain was like a drug. Having received so much of it after her awakening, her mind became severely desensitized, even if her body didn’t.

She needed it in certain intervals, like doses. As she said, things became itchy. It was uncomfortable, sweaty, and she experienced emotional distress.

That was her mind going through a form of withdrawals. The emotional pain was a way to tell her that it needed to experience acute physical sensations. Mutilating herself was a way of feeling something, satisfying her mind and scratching that itch.

But at the same time, since pain was like a drug, in order to make her healthy she would need to get off of it.

Of course, I wasn’t planning to just lock her away in chains and force her through the withdrawals. She didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.

Instead, it would be a long process of weaning her off. She would need constant convincing, teaching, and motivation. She would need to discipline herself, understanding why she couldn’t keep going this way and take her life into her own hands.

But therein lay the problem.

Her motivation.

Or lack of it.

“You know…”

I sat back and grabbed one of her fruits, taking a small bite.

“There’s an interesting philosophical topic that some nobles like to discuss. We ask ourselves, what would an immortal man do after living for hundreds or thousands of years?”

“Immortal?”

She looked curious while I continued.

“Someone who can’t die, who lives forever, who watches the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires. He learns everything, does everything. Perhaps one century he might rule a kingdom, and the other he might be a humble farmer with a family. With so much time and nobody able to harm him, there’s nothing he can’t do. But at some point, when he has done everything there is to do, and has felt everything there is to feel, what might he do to pass the limitless time in front of him? What do you think someone like that would do?”

“...”

For the first time, I saw Rachel focus on something. She pondered, perhaps using her own experiences to place herself in that hypothetical man’s shoes.

And at some point, she came to a conclusion.

“Nothing.”

She answered.

“There’s nothing he can do except repeat what he’s done. There’s nothing new in the world for him. Even if he has a family, they would just die. So what’s the point of anything?”

“Right? He’d probably go insane. To know that everything you do will all mean nothing. To know that you will outlive your grandchildren and their grandchildren. That you can only sit there and watch as the world lives on without you. And to think, you might just be the same way.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“...What?”

Rachel looked at me with both concern and confusion.

I shrugged.

“Well, with your regeneration, you’ll never get old. Old people die because their bodies wither and decay. But yours doesn’t. So as far as you’re concerned, you’re immortal, just like that hopeless man. You’ll live on for thousands of years. You’ll watch as the Verlenium Empire fades and dies, all its people spawning generation after generation that’ll build new empires. But none of them will outlast you.”

“W-wait, but I’m not immortal…”

“No? But you can’t die. I mean, you carve yourself up for fun, can starve and thirst for days and weeks, but your power as a sorcerer won’t let you bite the dust. You’ve even been burned at the stake! Is that not immortality?”

“...”

At my words, Rachel couldn’t find it in her to respond.

As someone who couldn’t fathom any more horrific and thorough way to die than through fire, she was realizing that there truly wasn’t any way she could possibly pass away. And if she couldn’t die, then she really was just like that immortal man.

Hopeless and without purpose. Sure she hadn’t lived for more than a few decades, but her nihilistic attitude didn’t care about that fact.

She could only sink into the thought that she had no way out, that she was trapped in her body forever. Perhaps she had been hoping that in time, she would still die due to old age. That was her last hope, and why she decided to not care about anything except going day by day in limbo.

But with even that gone, she had nowhere to go. The hope that she had an end was suddenly killed in her mind by my words.

And her thoughts became so thorough that she began to silently cry while sitting atop her bed.

Then, she began looking around frantically, whipping her head around to her pillow before reaching underneath.

She retrieved a knife to my surprise, and before I could do anything, began plunging it into her body.

The sight of blood spraying from her neck and legs was jarring even for me. And even more disorienting was how she didn’t stop.

No amount of stabbing or cutting inhibited her ability to operate. Her wounds closed fast enough for her to keep going, and not even suffocating would stop her.

“Wait!”

It was only when blood had poured onto the bed that I finally stood and tackled her. Restraining her proved to be shockingly difficult though with how freakishly strong she was.

“I… don’t want… that!”

She shouted while spitting out blood and flailing against me.

“I just… want to be… normal! I don’t want… immortality… I don’t want the pain…”

She continued to sob and struggle, but with joint locks, I was able to restrain her.

Blood poured over my own body and clothes, so much that I felt like I was soaked. The overwhelming smell of iron caused my nose to burn.

“Hey! Stop it with the useless harm and listen to me, dammit.”

I yanked her head back, putting her ear near my mouth. I could hear her erratic sobs in intimate detail while whispering.

“You and the rest of the people in this world don’t seem to realize that fire is not the most devastating way to die. But I do. I can kill you. Normal people might think you’re immortal, but only gods are truly immortal, and you’re no god. You have limits, and if you work with me, I’ll find them. Only I can give you the sweet release of death that you want. You understand me?”

“No… It’s my power… nobody knows about sorcerer powers… you couldn’t stop my power…”

She stopped struggling, but in exchange, it seemed like she was collapsing.

And her words were true. Not even I knew anything about the true nature of sorcerer powers.

But I didn’t need to know anything about it in order to kill it. I already had multiple avenues that could guarantee killing her, but none of them could be carried out without developing technology.

So I refuted while her body fell limp atop mine.

“No, I know things that you couldn’t possibly fathom. To explain the depth of my knowledge would take years. I know of multiple ways to kill you so thoroughly that not even your soul would remain. But if you want to be there when I create those things, then you’ll have to trust me, and you’ll have to stay with me.”

I loosened my grip, but in that moment of reprieve, Rachel spun around and stabbed down with the knife.

I was still as the blade was buried into the bed by my head.

Rachel cried as she looked down at me, but in her eyes were no longer the apathy I had seen before. There was emotion and hope, the two things I wanted to see most.

“How do I know you’re not lying? How do I know you’re not just fucking with me so that you can use me?”

“If you want reassurance, there are two things I can give you. I can give you information that can end my life, and in time, I will show you a weapon that I plan to build, a primitive weapon that’s one step toward the death you seek.”

“...Tell me. What can end your life?”

She gritted her teeth and pulled out the knife, pointing it at my neck.

I spoke just as calmly as always.

“The Order hunts sorcerers. All sorcerers happen to be female. However, I happen to be an exception.”

“You mean…”

“I’m a male sorcerer. An anomaly, and a specimen that the Order would do anything to get their hands on. If you were to release that information, it would lead to my death. So now, you hold my life in your hands.”

“...Prove it.”

With a bit more hope, she cautiously pushed for more.

I let out a sigh.

“Goodness, you’re asking for a lot. But, here.”

I lifted my left hand and took off the white glove.

Rachel was shocked at the horrifying scarring across my fingers and palm.

But her eyes widened even more when my hand transformed, revealing the metal clawed fingertips and the orb in my palm.

It was only visible for a moment though before I recalled the Tool and put my glove back on.

“Satisfied? And if you want to see my weapon, you’ll have to wait until I build it.”

“...”

Rachel was silent, her grip loosening.

And in that weakness, I pushed, flipping her over and swapping our positions.

I pinned her arm with the knife down while looking into her eyes. Our faces were close, our hot breaths hitting each other.

“My knowledge isn’t something you could understand, and the weapons I plan to build won’t come until the future. So you’re going to have to wait by my side until then. But I also don’t do things for free. So until I kill you, you’re going to have to do some work for me. At least that way you’ll be able to see that I’m not lying about my knowledge. So…”

Taking a breath, I grabbed her and pulled our bodies into a sitting position. The wet blood on our clothes and bedsheets served to make the scene a bit more nightmarish.

I grabbed her hand, gripping it forcefully between our chests.

“Trust me for a while. Watch me from up close or from afar. After all, what do you have to lose? If I’m right, then you win. And if I’m wrong, well, you can just kill me yourself. Sound good?”

I smiled with blood smeared across my face.

And my words seemed to open the floodgates as Rachel smiled and released her tears, letting all her pent up emotions pour out.

She grabbed my clothes, hugging my body while sobbing uncontrollably. I held her tight in return.

And when she finally calmed down, I lifted her chin with my finger, smiling at her.

“Don’t worry, Rachel. I know you’re different, but you’re still just a girl. There’s no need to be so detached. You’re not yet that immortal who has lived for thousands of years. You’re a girl in the prime of her life who deserves to live as such. And I don’t like it when you have that dull look in your eye. So at least let me give you some excitement that doesn’t involve soaking us in blood.”

“Hm, I think the blood is exactly what gives it some thrill.”

She smirked while wiping her face. It only served to smear the blood around though, so I got up and pulled her off the bed, motioning to the bathroom with my chin.

“Go on and clean up while I find someone to clean this mess.”

“...Well, we’re both dirty. Why don’t we both clean up?”

“...”

I jolted a bit as Rachel turned her face away, clearly embarrassed by her bold statement. And I couldn’t say I wasn’t caught off guard.

But after thinking for a moment, I walked over to her. She seemed flustered as I placed my hand on the side of her face, wiping her cheek with my thumb.

“...When you clean yourself and go to sleep tonight, you’ll wake up and the rush from this whole fiasco will be gone.”

“I-I know that. That’s why I want to do this now.”

She grabbed my shirt with pleading eyes, and I was reminded again of her most glaring issue.

Her mind desperately craved stimulation. Usually that came in the form of pain, but now, she was feeling something new.

This rush of emotion as she allowed herself to be vulnerable and felt the embrace of someone who was willing to take on her burden. It filled her with a new kind of ecstasy, and she wanted more.

But I didn’t need to become her addiction. It wasn’t good for her, and it wouldn’t help me. On the contrary, shutting off her avenues of escape would start her on the path of recovery and development. That would build her into a capable ally in the future, and if she still decided that she was interested in me, then at least it would actually mean something instead of being a twisted fling.

I removed my hand from her face, grabbing hers with it and placing it against her bountiful chest.

“Go clean up, find another room, get some rest, and come see me tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay..?”

She almost seemed confused as I turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me softly.

After that, I sneakily made my way through the manor, cleaning up myself after arriving at my bedroom and going to sleep not long after.

It was quite tiring, dealing with poor psychotic girls who liked it when I promised to kill them.