The dialogues written in this chapter are solely for the sake of world-building and empire's characterization, and will not happen to any character in the future of this story.

Iris propped herself on the headrest, her head still pounding. She was dreadful, delirious, and in agony, but she remembered telling Diantha about her desire for death. Another thing Diantha would try to solve. She shouldn’t have said it.

She looked around the room. It was a simple room, coloured velvet red. It screamed money. Iris looked down at the messed-up bed—have to be thrown into the eternal flames lest it infected an innocent. Diantha should’ve left her on the floor that way, but that would not have been Diantha then. She felt weak, scraped—her throat was split, dry, and strangling her from within. She gasped for air—but it refused as if a piece of wood was thrust into her throat—likely due to all the screams that never reached anyone’s ears.

I am fine.

Her mother’s gift covered her eyes—Diantha’s doing. Iris smiled a little. Iris slid off the bed and stumbled, still balancing on her feet. She conjured her clothes and failed. She could not contrive her clothes; her mana had not yet recovered to that extent. It would take a week for her mana to reach her maximum capacity. But in an hour, she would be able to conjure her clothes.

She lay on the dirty, smelly bed. It was wet from all the vile things her body puked out after she began recovering mana. Her body was weak and shivered, resting on something gross.

Diantha did not like it when she did not wear clothes when Jasper was about to enter the room. She supposed she had yet to see a human who did not wear clothes. A norm—Iris concluded. She should follow it.

“Iris?” It was Diantha’s voice. Iris raised her head and saw her—messy and haggard—without makeup. The bags under her eyes were visible. Iris supposed she should be used to seeing her like that. She felt warm knowing Diantha willingly did not wear a mask when they were alone.

“I’m up…” She said, half hoping her voice returned to its childlike nature, which was preferable to whatever abomination she currently sounded like.

“Would you mind if I wrapped the bandage around your throat?” Diantha approached, trying to keep her expression blank, but the rotten smell from her bad made it hard. Iris could see her brows twitching to frown. “We should change the room; I’ll have it cleaned,” Diantha said, waiting for her to get up.

As Iris walked toward her, she noticed the frown and contemplation on Diantha’s face. “I cannot conjure clothes for the next hour."

“I see… Even so,” Diantha took off her coat and wrapped it around her. Warm. Iris looked up. Diantha still looked cool even without her coat. “I cannot have you walking around with nothing. That is an inappropriate thing to do." Iris tilted her head. Inappropriate? She was not killing something sacred. Her brows raised in horror; would normal humans die seeing her naked?

Iris’s appreciation for Diantha grew, and she decided not to question her words. “Where are we going?"

“My room, of course,” she said.

“Why?”

“What, why?” Diantha asked.

Iris wanted an answer: why her room? Why did this big mansion not have another room for her? A part of her was afraid that Diantha was scheming something. She appreciated her kindness, but she was far from the most trustworthy human. She was far from simple—like Hecate or Ianthe. She was shrewd, she thought more than showed, and she was the scary type. She was like Mayumi, and that made her someone she wished to keep a distance from, even if she found that hard.

“Why do I need to stay in your room?” Iris asked, and her hoarse voice made her sound angrier even though she was not. She was just afraid.

“Because…” Diantha lowered and placed her hand on her shoulder, her eyes reaching Iris’s height. “When you have a nightmare, I will be able to hold you." She said with a smile on her face—a smile that promised she was not lying—that she had no ulterior motive.

“That’s it…”

“That’s it,” Diantha let go of her shoulder and straightened, “Let’s go."

Diantha, rather stealthily, took her to her room. Iris couldn’t help but smile, noticing the maid hiding when she saw Diantha approaching the room.

“What’s gotten you so giddy?” Diantha questioned, frowning.

“I am happy that you care so much about me." Iris lied, but she was sure she would not be caught this time, for it was partly true. “Did you sleep last night?” Iris did not need to ask that question. It was telltale at a glance.

“No… I was out for a week; there was enough work piled in my office that it would take months to get by. Jasper’s music improves my focus so that I can manage, alas, he is still on his bed."

“I see,” Iris nodded. If there was something to be done, sleep was secondary, but seeing Diantha’s condition, she wished Diantha would take more rest. “Still, you should try to sleep when you can."

“Of course, even if I don’t, I have a medicine that suppresses the desire to sleep,” Diantha said with a smirk.

“Desire. Not the need. You are not foolish enough to think—both are the same.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“They are. I can work weeks before going to sleep," Iris felt her emotions rolling, hearing Diantha speak of something self-destructive as if it were natural.

“Because of the emperor,” Iris muttered to herself. She was oh-so-tempted to visit this emperor once. Not visit; threaten to cleave his empire in half if he failed to retract all his inhumane ask from Diantha.

“Because I want to make Gracia better. The emperor never forced me to do anything; I can accept the punishment for my crime, and then I am free to live as I wish,” Diantha answered.

Iris paused. Diantha was free after the punishment, then... “What is the punishment?"

“Be bred in the nest of Kreens for a month,” Diantha replied, as impassively as ever. Half expecting Iris not knowing, half hoping Iris didn’t think much of it, as it was an avoided future. She didn’t believe this was something to lie over. However, Iris froze in her place.

Iris lacked knowledge, education, and everything that made a human capable of surviving. So, she was provided with an enhancement, of course, not for free, called Basic Knowledge. Designed with the motto of surviving in the labyrinth and becoming strong. She had knowledge of most monsters and their capabilities. Of course, she would not simply understand with words. It was the same as thinking a monkey would simply understand something with words. So, the system flashes images of things she needs to comprehend along with the knowledge.

When Diantha mentioned Bred by Kreens, the system flashed all the revolting and sickening images of what it meant. Bred by Kreens was possible within the labyrinth. Thus, knowledge existed within it. From their existence to the sounds humans make during the process, all came crashing down on Iris’s fragile mind, which was still recovering from the trauma of the episode.

“ARGH!!!” Iris fell on her knees, clutching her head. Her hoarse voice rang through the empty hall.

“Iris!” Diantha smoothed her back. “What happened?" Her voice was filled with worry.

“I just saw what you just described." It was the most revolting thing she had ever seen, even after seeing all kinds of twisted things in the labyrinth. Her stomach urged her to vomit, except it was empty. She sat there, her head twisting to forget the memory seared into her brain.

After a moment, she climbed to her feet. Sitting here would do nothing. “I will be fine in a minute; when the system installs knowledge, it is painful,” Iris lied, telling Diantha why she screamed would make her feel guilty. Still, her arm tightened; even what Lihn did was kindness compared to what she saw. For her remaining life, she knew what would be her nightmare. To think of having Diantha face that as punishment and mock her by saying she was free to live her life normally after that. After that. She was now really tempted to make an example out of the empire.

O’ mighty emperor, be blessed. Has this body not limited me? Have I not been blessed with eternal suffering? This mighty empire of yours—I would’ve razed it to dust, an example so horrifying, frightening, and vile that even the heavens’ would’ve felt their souls shudder.

She sighed, and anger vanished. She was angry twice over the last day. Her hold on her emotions was slipping, and she hated how she was happy and not impassive to the thought of Diantha’s possible suffering. She was not like villagers, after all, and neither was a monster of labyrinth. Even if inferior, she was a good human, a kind human, like Diantha was.

“O mighty emperor, you’re born with a destiny." She sighed. She was too weak to do anything to an empire, and even Ilona had to stay put, even if the fear was not for her safety but for everyone else. Iris, too, was bound to the mortal coils. She, too, shall not do anything to this empire.

“Did you say anything?” Diantha asked, but she failed to understand her words due to the roughness in Iris’s voice.

"Nothing." Or perhaps she could use the empire as a final act before death. A decision for the future. One she shall not make in haste. She was weak in the grand scheme of things.

They reached Diantha’s room—the one she had sullied with filth.

“Have you overcome the pain?” Diantha asked in her ever-caring voice.

“I have,” or rather, her mind found something else to focus on.

“You should rest; I have things to do, and then I am going to visit Felix. Do you want to join?"

Iris nodded.

"Then I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go. You should rest."

Iris gave Diantha her coat, flopped on the bed, exhausted from the walk, and fell asleep.

When she woke, the sun was filtering through the curtained window. Time? Iris looked at the clock. It was ten in the morning.

She climbed down, conjured her clothes, and rushed out in search of Diantha.

And found Ianthe, who was drinking something while sitting in the hall. Her posture was straight. She was preparing to meditate.

“Good morning, Ianthe,” Her voice was still rough.

“Good morning to you too, little lightning lord,” Ianthe smirked. Iris was glad Ianthe was becoming cheerful.

“I’m kind; otherwise, Iri would’ve regretted its life for calling me Little,” Iris replied. Exasperated. She hated being called little. She was tall, but people around her were absurdly tall. It was unfair.

“That you truly are. How are you feeling?” Ianthe asked.

Iris’s lips twitched. She was in bed for more than a day; of course, Diantha couldn’t hide it. “You know what happened?” Iris asked, skeptical. She would like to let her know as little as possible.

“No… I just saw your body once. After that, spent the rest of my day trying to distract or force Hecaate from approaching your room. She will have a question for you. You should be ready." Ianthe smirked and looked behind her. Iris did so dreadfully, expecting Hecate to bulldoze into her with questions. There was no one. She looked at Ianthe, who was laughing at her.

“HAHA, you’re far too easy to fool, Iris. If Hella was coming at you, you wouldn’t need to look back. She would be screaming."

Iris sighed. A fool. “Are you not curious?"

“You don’t want to share it,” Ianthe said. “I, too, do not want to share my past and problems. It is better this way."

“It is,” The less they interfered in each other’s personal lives, the more they could laugh in that moment. The past did not matter unless it came haunting every sleeping moment. “I had an episode, a process in which my body rejects filth because I sustain myself on mana cores. A price to live in the labyrinth. There is nothing to worry about; I am perfectly okay,” Iris paused. “Except for my voice.” She could at least let her know this part.

“I see… That is sad. I hope there is a way I can help you,” Ianthe said. Her voice was small and filled with guilt.

Iris shook her head. She wanted no help. The only thing they could do for her was leave her as she was.

“Iris,” Diantha called her.

“Are we leaving?” Iris asked.

“Yes, let’s go."

Iris followed behind Diantha. She was tall, and her hair glowed in the sun. Iris wished she had her height. She would be cool, too. A cool mage—what a life that would’ve been. Her shoulder slumped. She patted Winny on the head. It was alright. A little longer, perhaps in the next life, she could be happier.

Where breathing would be less painful, where she would have the strength to walk without the need for mana, where she wouldn’t have to be in pain to live, and where she wouldn’t be afraid if someone really showed her kindness for free.