Chapter 235: 235. Banter? or Scheme?
Slowly, almost reluctantly, her grip around my neck loosened, her nails leaving behind faint red streaks, and finally begrudgingly she released me.
With a sharp snort, she turned her back on me, the movement elegant yet tinted with irritation, her sapphire hair swaying like the tail of a displeased cat.
"You certainly have a way with that insolent mouth of yours," she said, her voice low but sharp, "but tell me, what proof do you even have? Have you ever actually ventured to such a place as you claim exists?"
I brushed the ache off my throat, smirking despite the sting, and chuckled. "Oh~ is that so? You want proof now? Tch, too bad I don’t have any. How about you continue what you were doing just now and strangle me again? That seemed pretty convincing."
Her forehead creased, a deep frown marring her otherwise delicate features. With an audible click of her tongue, she flopped down onto her bed as though the very act of engaging with me had drained her of her immortal patience.
The mattress dipped slightly beneath her weight, and with a long, exasperated sigh she let the words roll off her lips. "Hahhh... You’re really insufferable. Just so you know that!"
I spread my arms wide in mock acceptance, shrugging. "Oh, trust me, I know. If there’s one thing I’m sure of in this world, it’s that being insufferable is my single best trait. Call it... consistency."
She raised her head, long neck arching like a swan poised to strike, and her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that would have made a lesser man wilt.
I, of course, being the innocent and perfectly reasonable man that I was, merely returned her gaze with a pleasant smile.
Another sigh escaped her, this one softer, almost weary. "Forget all this nonsense," she muttered. "Just tell me what it is you want. If it’s something within my power, I will give it to you."
A slow smile, deliberate and razor-edged, spread across my lips. "Great. Now we’re finally speaking the same language. I like that we’re on the same terms."
Her nose wrinkled with distaste, her eyes narrowing as if my very existence offended her sense of aesthetics. "Stop with the theatrics. Get to the point. You may have all the time in the world, but this beauty"—she gestured casually at herself with a smug little smirk—"does not."
I blinked at her, momentarily stunned, then barked out a laugh. "First of all, you’re cooped up in this damn castle all the time. You literally have nothing else to do besides brood and nag. Second of all, beauty? You?" I let the word hang in the air. "Old hag, you should know better by now. Mirrors don’t lie."
Her lips curled upward into a wicked smirk, her eyes glittering with a devilish sort of amusement. "Wow... really? You’re hitting back at me for just slightly choking you? Hah. Such pettiness, I didn’t expect it from you. From someone who parades himself as an emotionless, detached individual, this is almost... refreshing."
I rolled my shoulders and waved her remark away like smoke. "Whatever sails your boat, hag." I paused, letting the silence stretch just enough to gnaw at her composure. "What I want is simple. I want access to your Ancestral Codex."
The words carried weight in my own head, heavy enough that I braced myself for drama, a clash, some grand explosion of tension... yet nothing came.
She just... looked at me. Almost bored. Her lips curved into a lazy smile.
"Just that?" she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly. "You want just that? Hah. All that bluster, all that defiance, all that posturing... for something so pitifully small? Fine. You can see the Ancestral Codex."
Her carefree tone hit me harder than a slap. She was too calm, too yielding. Was the Ancestral Codex truly so insignificant that she could just toss it to me like a piece of wood? Or was she acting, playing a role, masking some deeper truth under layers of deliberate nonchalance?
’No,’ I thought, narrowing my eyes. ’Something’s wrong here. Either the Codex amounts to nothing, or she’s hiding its true weight behind that smug little smile.’
"Wait," I said suddenly, lifting a hand. "I need to think further before making my choice."
She shrugged as if she genuinely didn’t care, resting her chin against her hand. "Suit yourself. Take as long as you need. If you need any guidance, though, I can offer you advice on what to pick."
"Yeah, thanks, but no thanks," I muttered, waving her off. Her so-called help was the last thing I wanted. Instead, I asked the question burning in my chest. "Tell me this... what exactly does the Ancestral Codex hold?"
She tilted her head, eyes half-lidded, her tone flat and dismissive. "It’s nothing close to the grand fantasies you’re probably weaving in that head of yours. It’s just a cube. A big, stone cube filled with the collected teachings of our ancestors. Call them commandments, guidelines, mere rules for the merfolk to live by. Nothing more, nothing less."
Her nonchalance disturbed me. Something about her words, her delivery, didn’t sit right with me. It was too neat, too... unbothered.
"Wait a damn minute!" I suddenly shouted, exaggerating the shock in my voice, my finger darting toward her in mock accusation. "Your ancestors?"
I leaned forward, emphasizing the word. "Your ancestors!"
Her smile faltered just a fraction, but I caught it.
"Oh my," she laughed, but the laughter wasn’t joyful, it was unhinged, almost cracked. "You really don’t like living, huh? There’s a limit to how much nonsense I will bear before I snap you like a twig."
I raised both my hands in mock surrender, though even I could feel that I might have pushed things a little too far this time. My grin remained, but it was tempered with a flicker of caution. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. My bad. I shouldn’t have said that. But... I do have that question gnawing at me. Your ancestors?"
"Hmm." Her hum was low, almost thoughtful, and her sharp eyes turned away from me to wander out the window. Beyond the glass stretched the vast expanse of the ocean. "It’s not like I’m the oldest one here... there are numerous beings older than me... such as my parents."
Her tone wavered then, a tiny fracture in her otherwise perfect control. For just an instant, I caught the sound of weight.
She swallowed down something, some bitter shard of thought that wanted to rise, and continued, "Our history is very rich. Even if we haven’t expanded beyond these waters, our world has been alive, breathing... full of stories. Evolution, blood-soaked power struggles, betrayals, traditions. All of it is carved into us."
She paused, and her hand tightened faintly against her arm, almost as if she were bracing herself.
"Every time an elder dies," she said at last, softer now, the strength seeping from her voice. "Before their death approaches, they go to the Ancestral Codex. And there... they inscribe their final teaching for the generations to come. Words etched not on paper, but into living mural, into scripture bound to the sea itself. That... is the Ancestral Codex."
The cracks in her voice grew sharper, slicing through the facade she had worn so well until now. There was a quiver, a weakness, a kind of tremor only born from grief that had never fully healed.
’So I did hit something deep... a string she wanted buried.’
And that realization made a cold smile itch at the corner of my lips. A broken person was always easier to peel open, easier to manipulate, easier to step into than someone armored with an unshakable will. She wasn’t as untouchable as she thought she was.
"I’m sorry," I said, this time soft and measured, letting my tone bend with a regret I didn’t fully feel but wore convincingly. "I spoke without thinking. Our last encounter was messy, and I... I was holding onto that bitterness. I shouldn’t have dragged it here. I really am sorry."
Her body stilled, but her eyes betrayed her. A single tear welled up, trembled, and then slid free from the corner of her eye.
The moment it left her eye, it hardened, crystallizing into a perfect white gem that glimmered with its own faint light. It was beautiful, almost holy, a fragment of sorrow turned into something eternal.
She reached out and gently cradled the crystal in her palm. "You know... a mermaid’s tears come once every decade. Just one drop, just one... can extend the life of any living being by a quarter of its span."
Her gaze lingered on the small shining crystal with a tenderness I hadn’t expected. "They are... precious beyond measure. So tell me, do you desire it? Not just this one, but many? Thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands. Enough to carve yourself into something immortal."
I shook my head slowly, firmly. "No. I have no interest in that. I don’t care for immortality bought with tears. Like I told you before, what I want is the Ancestral Codex. I want to see it. To study and understand it."
"You have something else in mind." Her lips curved into a smile, but this one was sly, tinged with suspicion, "You aren’t being honest. There’s something else driving you, something more you seek to extract."
I met her gaze without flinching, my face the very image of lazy defiance. "You’re reading too deep. There’s no hidden scheme. Like you want to unearth the history of creation itself, I’m after something similar, just less... ancient. But still important to me."
She hummed absentmindedly, tapping her finger against the crystal in her hand, lost in thought. And then, after a long silence that stretched between us, she nodded.
"Very well," she murmured. Her eyes flickered back to mine, sharp again. "As you wish. Let us visit the Ancestral Codex."