The Undead King of the Palace of Darkness

Chapter 127: Prologue – Death

Something seems to be happening out there.

An old, all white, hospital. On a bed inside a quarantined room that stood alone, Mirele Noah could clearly tell something had occurred.

Sunlight quietly streamed into the modestly decorated room through the lone little window looking out into the courtyard.

It was as if Mirele’s room was frozen in time. Since it stood far removed from the other rooms, the silence and solitude almost drove her insane sometimes.

Hence, the girl of such circumstances, welcomed any kind of change with open arms.

Mirele had only the customary number of visits from doctors and nurses to begin with, but even that had greatly decreased as of late.

The quality of the only two meals she had in a day had deteriorated, she barely had any assistance, the circles under her eyes had grown darker and she eventually came to have a smell of blood about her.

The doctors kept their silence and so did Mirele.

Her room was completely isolated from the outside world. No word of anything happening outside got in nor did she personally seek to find out herself.

The staff were doing no more than their due diligence by visiting her room.

Mirele was born and raised in a developed country and the fact that it would not let a helpless patient simply die may not have been a blessing to either the doctors or Mirele herself.

Well, maybe there was a reason why they would not abandon the helpless Mirele, but she herself could not fathom why.

At first, people thought of striking up a conversation with her.

However seeing the doctors so obviously stiffen at a single glance from Mirele, put a stop to that thought.

Change was happening slowly but steadily.

She was curious as to what had brought it upon, but had no means to ascertain the source. Of course, there was also the matter of what use that knowledge would be of to her.

Mirele is going to die. Be it in a year, two years or three, she will die for sure.

It is also a fact that something bad was afoot in the outside world.

The extremely rare visits from her family had dwindled to none. The mages and priests who visited once every six months stopped coming by as well. Their absence was a bad omen no matter the day or age.

She would be putting the doctors on the spot, if someone like her who already had one foot in the grave wanted to ask them about it out of curiosity just to confirm her suspicions.

Today passed without much ado like any other day and the evening sun seeped through the small window.

There was no clock in Mirele’s room. The sun was the only way she could tell time.

It was almost time for dinner. She did not feel any hunger. She was no longer capable of such a feeling.

Be that as it may, forgoing food would mean death. Death was inevitable as is, but she did not have the courage to starve herself to death.

It had been a full two years since she had been holed up in the hospital. Her body which had once moved as she willed, became too weak to move without assistance at some point.

At the moment, she could prop herself up though it took all of strength, but sooner or later, she would become nothing but a living doll that is incapable of even doing that much.

No one or anything could help bring peace to Mirele.

No, there was no cure for Mirele’s illness. She was made aware of that at the very beginning.

As such, Mirele was shut away in the quarantined room while she could still somewhat walk. Everyone who visited her, be it the doctors, nurses, the healing mages who were a rare kind, no one ever had any hope for her recovery, and it even seemed like they simply awaited her death.

An incurable illness. Something that forced a girl who had barely turned ten to face her deplorable fate which she cannot possibly escape from.

That which even the priests do not offer few words of comfort for, is called a curse.

First came the state of disbelief. Followed by anger at one’s own fate. And finally came acceptance.

The night crept upon her. She was not provided a light, even if she were, it would be of little use to her.

The sun went down. However, it being a full moon day, her visibility was assured by the moonlight shining into the room.

Dinner did not arrive. Neither did sleep. She sat up and looked out the window.

Maybe they were no longer capable of sending her any meals? Oh very well then, so be it.

Mirele felt the dull throb of pain from within her body and sighed.

The pain of unknown origins gradually grew stronger. There was no doubt that it was the sign of death drawing near.

Something was happening. Might as well let a war or something burn down the whole world for all she cared.

As she sat, with such aimless thoughts passing her head, the sound of footsteps could be heard outside her room.

It was a little later than usual, but was it dinner? But if it were that, she would have heard the sound of a trolley.

The door was unlocked from the outside and it opened with protest. As tiresome as it felt to move her sluggish body, she turned and looked in the direction with much difficulty.

In came a doctor clad in a tattered white coat and….

“Mirele, you have a visitor.”

“…?!”

It was a young man dressed better than she had ever seen in her life.

He had on a seemingly velvety black robe and gleaming leather shoes, polished to perfection. Moonlight bounced off his pure white hair. He carried a sword on his side, and though Mirele had never seen one, she wondered if this was how nobles carried themselves.

Ignoring the dumbfounded look on Mirele’s face, the doctor spoke animatedly.

Dilated pupils. Eyes that gleam like that of a beast. Be it back when she was in good health or when the doctors were not able to pinpoint the nature of her illness, never had she been viewed the way those eyes looked at her right now.

“Mirele. I’ve come bearing some good news after a long time. You’re to be discharged from the hospital today.”

“Huh…? What are you talking… who is he?”

Leaving the hospital? Impossible. Mirele was afflicted with an incurable illness.

Which had a hundred percent mortality rate. The doctors, mages and the priests had all given up before they even made any attempt to treat her.

And even if, a BIG IF, she had been miraculously cured, would the procedure for her to leave the hospital be carried out at this hour?

“Ah, introductions are in order. This gentleman right here, is a doctor. He has travelled far just for you.”

It was entirely too bizarre. In the dark, without bothering to turn the lights on, the visitor was introduced.

There was a very unusual glint in the depths of his eyes. She blurted out a question before she knew it.

“What kind of doctor?”

Even if they were not on great terms, the doctor who had cared for her ever since she was admitted to the hospital, blinked.

He scowled for a second but looked serene a moment after.

“That… doesn’t really matter.”

“… What about his name?”

“That… doesn’t really matter. However, what matters is that this person is going to save you.”

The whole thing clearly seemed too surreal, but there was conviction in his voice.

He… has taken leave of his senses.

The doctor had a look of displeasure on his face as if his goodwill had been greeted with disdain. The young man who stood next to him showed no reaction as he listened to the conversation.

He looked to be a few years older than Mirele and seemed a little too young to be a skilled doctor, but it was not his elegant attire or his age that shocked Mirele and made her gasp.

For some reason, Mirele could tell from a glance.

The reason why the doctor was clueless. The reason why they dropped by her room at this late hour and did not even turn on the lights.

The visitor… was clearly not alive.

The death energy around him was something she was all too familiar with, however, it was unimaginably stronger.

He was not… human.

“Are you… Death?”

It was something Mirele had dreaded but wished for at the same time.

He was the personification of how she imagined ‘Death’ to be.

It had slipped out in spite of herself.

The doctor’s eyes opened wide at the hoarse voice that spoke spontaneously.

“What is all this nonsense…?!”

“Right you are. Oh, you can leave now. Thanks for showing me here.”

Disappointingly quickly admitted the young man and ushered the doctor out of the room.

The doctor scowled, nodded in agreement and left.

Silence returned to the room. No words were exchanged.

The young man neared her, but it had been quite some time since her body moved the way she willed.

An illness that had existed since forever and whose cause was unknown. With a rare few casualties, it was a sickness that led one’ soul to death.

And it was called ‘Soul Death Illness’.

The young man’s movements were graceful, fully in contrast with the death energy surrounding him.

Mirele could not gather her thoughts. She had nary an inkling that she would be in this situation today.

The lad stared at her as if to size her up.

Her heart thumped away as if in protest. With her thoughts completely in disarray, she managed to open her mouth.

“Why… how are you still moving around?”

‘Death’ looked at her in surprise and made a friendly expression that made the scary image she had of him disappear.

“… Because I want to?”