Repeat Vice - The Villainous Noble Doesn't Want to Die, So He Swore to Not Die As One of The Four Heavenly Kings - Chapter 11 - A Woman's Warmth

Chapter 11: Human Warmth

Evaporated seawater at high altitudes becomes updrafts, easily altering the weather over the sea.

And to compensate for the evaporated seawater, large amounts of water flow in from the surrounding areas as well.

Naturally, the waves become rough, and driving rain pelts down as if delivering a final blow.

The clear weather has been replaced by a raging storm, all due to the miscalculation of the sorcerer named Rofus.

The Lightless family’s secret technique, “The Deeds of the First Generation,” has historically been used at sea, but this was the first time in a while that it has been used again.

Even experientially and knowledgeably, Rofus couldn’t have anticipated that a single spell could cause such a tremendous effect to the weather.

However, there was another miscalculation that Rofus did not account for.

The unintended presence of Fol.

For Fol, who has grown up at sea as a sailor since childhood, swimming is as easy as breathing.

And so swimming with one person in tow is nothing to him.

However, when it comes to a storm that rages in the sea, the same can’t be said anymore.

Moreover, it was at the Devil’s Sea

There is no land nearby, nor are there any ships in sight.

In the face of nature’s wrath, the power of a single person is insignificant.

Even with magical power and slightly enhanced physical abilities, the result would be the same.

But despite being tossed around by the rough waves, Fol struggles desperately while carrying the unconscious Rofus.

Amidst the raging waves, he manages to surface enough to breathe.

“Hey! Wake up! You’ll die, you know!?”

No matter how much he calls out, Rofus remains motionless as if he was dead.

And rightly so.

Rofus, experiencing magical depletion, is in a truly deep slumber.

No matter how much he calls out, or even if he were to have Rofus’s limbs cut off, he wouldn’t wake up.

But Fol, unaware of Rofus’s magical depletion, continues to desperately call out to him.

In the midst of this, they are swallowed by an exceptionally large wave.

Fol is tossed by the rough waves, unable to catch his breath, and is swept away.

It’s no longer a situation where Fol can afford to hold onto the unconscious Rofus.

At this rate, not only Rofus but even Fol’s own life will be in jeopardy.

However, Fol doesn’t let go of Rofus.

As if abandoning him wasn’t an option.

There are no whispers of demons or fleeting moments of conflict.

Rofus is a noble.

Moreover, he is the epitome of the despicable nobility that Fol dislikes.

With a haughty attitude, he looks down on commoners like Fol.

If something displeases him, he doesn’t hesitate to threaten them with magic.

Truly, an unpleasant noble.

However, he’s different from Clinton.

Rofus may be an unpleasant noble, but he’s not the worst they could be.

Despite his foul mouth, he doesn’t mistreat or abduct residents of Rougvelt for no reason.

On the contrary, he ventures out to subdue the monsters that plagued Rougvelt, not even fleeing in the face of their formidable power but confronting them head-on.

He doesn’t do what Clinton and his men did, using and discarding young sailors like Fol, but rather shield them from attacks, even when he became a one-armed man, still continuing to protect the crew alone.

In fact, not a single casualty among the sailors who joined from Rougvelt were done.

It was a conduct that deviated from the noble image known to Fol.

——After all that, there’s no way I’ll abandon him!

While being tossed by the rough waves, Fol screams this in his mind.

Rofus surely would claim that all those deeds were by no means for the sake of commoners but for his own sake.

He might even be cursed as ignorant of his position.

However, as a result, the heinous monsters that threatened Rougvelt were subdued, and furthermore, not a single sailor who participated from Rougvelt perished.

For Fol, that was more than enough.

And so, he couldn’t just leave Rofus alone.

Above all, Rofus suffered severe injuries, losing his left arm while shielding Fol.

With the earnest desire to heal Rofus’s wounds, Fol even activated his healing magic, a miraculous feat even if he barely had the talent, considering he was unaware of his magical abilities.

However, in the midst of these rough waves, there’s nothing he can do.

But he won’t let go, no matter what.

Even if they were to drown together like this, Fol would never abandon this nobleman smaller than himself.

Whether due to his strong will reaching the heavens or even the gods, a miracle happend.

In the corner of Fol’s vision, he sees a faintly glowing seahorse.

Gracefully swimming as if unaffected by the turbulent waves, the seahorse seems to be signaling that it would lead the way, swimming smoothly ahead of Fol as if urging him to follow.

While uncertain if it could be a trap, as they would likely drown if they continued like this, Fol feels a warmpower akin to healing magic from the seahorse.

Although there’s no certainty, it doesn’t seem like something bad.

As Fol follows the seahorse, the rough sea gradually calms down, and the bitterly cold seawater becomes warmer.

And Fol’s tense consciousness gradually fades.

“…!”

Fol wakes up abruptly, jerking his body upright.

Gentle waves wash up and recede on a pure white sandy beach.

Apparently, they’ve been washed ashore on the beach of some island.

Looking around, Fol sees Rofus lying right beside him.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Fol puts his hand on Rofus’s shoulder.

“Hey, wake up already… huh?”

But then, his complexion drains of color as he notices how terrifyingly cold Rofus’s body is, and that he’s not even breathing.

“Hey… hey, this isn’t funny…”

Fol hurriedly turns Rofus onto his back, removes the heavy coat, and listens to his chest.

He hears a faint heartbeat, but it’s weak and unreliable.

“He’s still alive… there’s still enough time…!”

Fol straddles Rofus and starts performing chest compressions on him.

Having grown up as a sailor since childhood, Fol is familiar with resuscitation procedures.

What matters most is to keep calling out their name.

Calling out the name of someone on the brink of death, to bring their consciousness back to this world, has been one of the main procedures.

The witch of the rocky shore lurking in the darkness beyond attempts to detain the consciousness of the drowning with sweet words.

That’s why it’s necessary to call out their name to bring their consciousness back to this world.

If their consciousness doesn’t look like it would return, their soul may have already been devoured by the witch of the rocky shore.

This is a legend passed down to the sailors of Rougvelt, a story that Fol has heard countless times from his father, Graig.

While Fol himself takes it with a grain of salt, he understands the importance of calling out the name of Rofus.

“Hey… hey, Ro…”

Fol tries to call out his name but freezes.

——What’s this guy’s name again, Ro… what?

Fol realizes it.

They still haven’t properly introduced themselves, nor have they called each other by name.

Although he occasionally heard the butler calling out his name.

“Why won’t you wake up… Could it be because of the witch of the rocky shore…”

As Fol’s face pales, he catches a glimpse of something floating faintly at the edge of his vision.

“You…?”

Amidst the raging waves, it was a seahorse that led them to this beach as if guiding them.

Although not underwater, the seahorse drifts along the shore as if swaying in the water.

At this moment, Fol suddenly wonders.

Fol and Rofus were undoubtedly cast ashore in the demon-infested sea.

But there should be no islands around the demon-infested sea.

No islands can be seen in any direction, no landmarks to guide, only the endless horizon, and the demonic ship-eating creatures that appear like the final stop.

This is why it’s called the demon-infested sea.

So why is there a beach here?

Even amidst the raging storm, it’s hard to believe they drifted so far from the sea in such a short amount of time.

Since Fol himself knows that he hasn’t drowned, they couldn’t have drifted for that long.

As Fol wrestles with unanswered questions, the seahorse begins to swim ahead again, as if leading the way further.

Their destination is a rugged rocky area along the beach.

There, nestled in a corner of the rocks, is a gaping cave.

The seahorse occasionally glances back as if urging Fol to follow, then swims into the cave.

“…Are you telling me to follow you?”

Fol carries Rofus on his back and follows the seahorse.

While he doesn’t know where this is, it’s thanks to the seahorse that they’re alive on this island.

He had no intention of doubting it now.

Following the seahorse into the cave, Fol is greeted by a surprising sight.

In the spacious cave, what appears to be a beast’s fur serves as a makeshift bed in the center, with driftwood piled up at the edge, flint and the remnants of a fire.

It’s the bare minimum of a living space, as if someone had been living here.

Fol looks at the seahorse suspiciously.

“There’s no way this is your dwelling.”

A seahorse, which should inhabit underwater, couldn’t possibly live in such a human-like living space.

Fol looks around cautiously.

There are no signs of human presence, and seeing the burnt logs, it seems that this has been like this for a long time now.

For now, Fol lays Rofus on the fur bed and picks up the flint.

“It still seems usable…”

Next, he looks at the driftwood.

It’s not damp and seems dry enough to be used as firewood.

With a hint of unease in such a providential situation, Fol strikes the flint to spark a fire.

After stacking the driftwood, it takes some time, but he manages to light the fire.

“It would be easier if I knew how to use magic…”

While he’s used to lighting fires, creating water or fire out of nothing is still an object of awe and fear for commoners.

“Come to think of it, am I also someone with magical power…?”

At least that’s what Rofus said, and he even managed to activate healing magic on a whim.

Feeling a gaze, Fol glances at the seahorse, which seems to be floating around as if its purpose has been fulfilled.

After all, they were saved, even if the seahorse’s purpose remains unclear.

“Thank you, we owe you one.”

Fol expresses his gratitude, but whether the seahorse understood it or not, it shows no particular reaction and continues to drift.

Rofus, lying beside him, still hasn’t woken up.

Thanks to the fire, the cave is filled with a faint warmth.

Having removed his wet clothes and wrapped him in warm fur, Fol touches Rofus’s skin again, hoping it’s at least a little warmer now.

“Huh…”

Rofus’s body is still cold.

He’s breathing, but his complexion seems even paler than before.

“Why…”

Fol is anxious.

He doesn’t understand why Rofus’s condition isn’t improving.

Rofus’s physical condition has deteriorated significantly due to magical exhaustion, to the point where he can’t even regulate his body temperature by himself.

But that’s something Fol doesn’t know.

Amidst this, Fol thinks.

What should he do in this situation?

He traces back his experiences and memories, and remembers what his father, Graig, taught him in the past.

“It’s a continuation of life-saving, but if the body is completely cold and the temperature doesn’t return, it’s almost too late. Return them to the sea in a single thought. What? How to save them? Well, let’s see… If you warm them up for a night, they might survive if you’re lucky. By the way, it’s better to warm them up with a woman’s warmth than a man’s. Women have higher body temperatures. It’s just a side note, but when I drowned in my youth, your mother warmed me up overnight, and as a result, Log was born… Hey!? What are you doing! I’m telling you a very serious story…”

“…Oh, I remembered some nonsense information, but… warming up someone with body heat, huh…”

This would undoubtedly be considered sacrilegious once Rofus wakes up, but that’s something to deal with after he’s awake.

“I won’t let you die.”

Fol had no doubts about what he was about to do.

Judging from Rofus’s character so far, he wouldn’t ever imagine such a thing would happen to him, but even if Rofus wakes up and gets furious and tries to kill him with magic under the guise of execution, it would still be better than doing nothing, or so Fol thinks.

He strips off all the half-dry clothes he’s been wearing and murmurs.

“Women have higher body temperatures, huh… Then, I’m glad I’m a woman.”

Undoing the bandage binding his chest to disguise himself as a man, Fol leans against Rofus’s cold body, sharing her warmth with him.

Wrapped in fur, they take comfort in each other’s warmth, and soon, Fol falls asleep as if being lured into a dream.

The faint seahorse drifting in the cave continues to watch the scene.

Rofus, according to himself, is part of the anti-protagonist faction of the story.

Comprising the protagonist, along with several heroines, they are a small but elite group, each possessing formidable strength.

During one of the story’s arcs, the Sea Demon Straff subjugation in the fishing village of Rougvelt, a heroine joins the protagonist’s ranks.

Faratiana Rougvelt.

A tomboyish character, she is a female sailor who despises nobles to a considerable extent.

She had a trauma where her childhood friend was abducted by Clinton’s private army.

As a result, she detests nobles intensely, particularly the Lightless family, whom her archenemy Clinton serves.

During the Four Heavenly Kings arc in the second chapter, when confronted with Rofus of the Lightless family, she relentlessly insults and attacks him with hatred clearly directed.

However, that was just Faratiana’s story, following the original scenario.

This time, diverging from the scenario, Faratiana—or rather, Fol—was saved by Rofus, not the protagonist.

But Rofus had no intention of saving Faratiana.

From Rofus’s perspective, who has experienced countless killings, his impression of Faratiana, who always attacked him relentlessly, must have been the worst back then.

But this unexpected outcome of Rofus inadvertently saving Faratiana was not intentional. It wasn’t, for Rofus, who just acted to avoid being killed repeatedly in the future, such a bad development.

However, there are those in this world who do not see it as a good thing.

Inside Faratiana, there exists a soul—or rather, a being that could be called a soul.

Faratiana’s soul couldn’t accept the fact that Fol was risking her life to save Rofus.

Because Rofus is one of the enemies who betrayed humanity, a man who was involved in human trafficking and the head of a despicable group of people.

That’s why Faratania’s spirit was summoned.

Into Fol’s and Rofus’ current world.

To “persuade” Fol.

In the vast expanse of white, Fol awakens, and before him lies Rofus, unconscious on the ground.

And in her hand is a knife with a sharp edge.

—Kill that man.

A voice resonates in Fol’s head, sounding eerily like her own.

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, Fol tries to discard the knife, but the handle clings to her hand as if glued.

“Why?”

As she questions, the voice echoes again.

—That man is the lowest of nobles. It’s his fault that Norn was sold to slave traders.

Norn is the name of Fol’s childhood friend who was abducted by Clinton’s private army six months ago.

“Are you serious? The one at fault is Clinton. While he is indeed a noble, he had nothing to do with it.”

—No, you’re wrong. He’s in cahoots with Clinton. Because he is Rofus Ray Lightless. The eldest son of the Lightless family.

“What?”

Fol’s mind goes blank.

When it comes to the Lightless family, they are the influential noble family that controls the territory around here.

Clinton’s private army often used threats involving them.

If they laid hands on them, the Lightless family wouldn’t stay silent.

If they dared to resist, the Marquis Lightless would lead a large army to crush the village.

In other words, the Lightless family is like the boss behind the hated Clinton.

The supreme leader of corrupt nobles, the Dark Nobility.

“This… this guy is a Lightless…? No way… he helped us, he saved Rougvelt…”

—Don’t be fooled. His true nature is darkness itself. He doesn’t care about anyone else. All his actions are for his own filthy desires.

“…Come to think of it, he did say something like that before we set sail.”

Indeed, Rofus said it was for the sake of the Lightless territory and ultimately for himself.

“I see… so this guy is a Lightless.”

Fol unconsciously tightens the grip on the knife.

Bringing the sharp edge of the blade closer to Rofus’s neck.

The voice echoing in his head fills him with joy and excitement.

—That’s right! Stab him to death! He’s Norn’s enemy!

Norn, Faratiana’s childhood friend, was sold to slave traders, and they reunited during the Alchemy Empire arc in the third chapter of the original plotline.

Even though they reunited, Norn had been subjected to cruel experiments in the Empire after being sold as a slave, and when she was found by the protagonist’s faction, she was already in a completely changed state.

At that point, the prime suspect, Rofus, the eldest son of the Lightless family, had already been defeated as one of the Four Heavenly Kings, but it still gave Faratania tremendous anger and sadness at her friend’s state.

However, the current Fol doesn’t know about this future scenario.

Fol stops just before thrusting the blade into Rofus’s neck, then forcefully throws the knife aside.

“—Huh? Wha-what are you doing…”

A voice, confused by Fol’s sudden actions.

Facing a voice that seems to come from nowhere, Fol glares sharply.

“Norn was taken away, but she’s not dead. What nonsense are you spouting.”

—N-no, that’s not it, it’s about the future…

“What nonsensical gibberish… is all this about the Lightless family bogus too?”

—No! That man, Rofus, is undoubtedly a Lightless! He’s a cunning coward, our enemy!

“Sly? Cowardly? Who cares who you’re talking about! What do you know about him!?”

To Fol right now, Rofus showed his back to even the most formidable enemies.

Moreover, he sacrificed his left arm to protect Fol.

For Fol, Rofus is the person who saved his homeland and herself, her benefactor.

To belittle him unfairly is unsettling to say the least.

—You’ve only just met him, so you don’t know his true nature!

Certainly, it’s been only half a day since Fol and Rofus met.

But from Fol’s perspective, in that short period, Rofus has shown results and a personality more than enough.

“Regardless of what you say, he saved me.”

—It was Abel who saved Rougvelt, not him… he’s not that kind of person.

Fol coldly dismisses the voice tinged with a hint of regret.

“Rofus saved Rougvelt. I don’t know about any other person that did.”

Suddenly, cracks appear in the white space.

The all-white world begins to crack and collapse.

No longer does her own voice speak to her.

Fol suddenly opens her eyes and finds herself gripping Rofus’s slender neck tightly within the fur.

He quickly releases his hands from Rofus’s neck and checks to see if there are any marks, then sighs in relief as he strokes his chest.

“What was that dream just now… some kind of nightmare?”

Although she doesn’t remember the details well, it surely wasn’t a pleasant dream.

Fol notices that Rofus seems warmer than before and buries his face in Rofus’s chest in relief.

“Are you really a Lightless…? Is your name Rofus…?”

She throws questions at an unconscious person, knowing there won’t be an answer, more like talking to herself.

Rofus, who usually seemed imposing, now seems fragile and small, unconscious.

Looking at him like this, he appears nothing more than a child with a certain charm.

Fol, who dared to confront nobles just because they were nobles, hurling abuse and insults at them… and yet, this child saved her homeland and herself.

“What am I doing…”

Fol snuggles closer to Rofus, trying to distract herself from the guilt, their bodies intertwined.