Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 51

Where was she even supposed to start being surprised?

At the sheer number of insane events crammed into such a short time?

At how casually he spoke about these life-threatening encounters?

Or at the fact that he had achieved what would take most people decades—within days?

Or maybe at how she was already starting to accept his utterly unbelievable story without question?

Pien felt a growing sense of dread. Was this her fate? To have nonsensical conversations with him someday, such as:

"Oh, this? I just woke up and reached the sixth tier of magic."

"Well, proper sleep does wonders for growth."

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed Lona sitting nearby.

"..."

The rough-looking woman was listening intently, her eyes gleaming with admiration—a look completely out of character for her.

"Lona? What are you thinking?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing."

"That's not a face that says 'nothing.' Come on, spill it."

"..."

Lona hesitated, as though reluctant to speak. But Risir's curious glance made her relent, a rare shyness creeping into her expression.

"Well… I just suddenly feel proud."

"Proud?"

"Yeah. Thinking that my master is an incredible person."

"...?"

What was going on? This demoness—this succubus—was acting strangely.

Had she given up pretending to be indifferent?

Was she now leaning fully into being… this?

And—wait—*my master*? *My master*?

"Risir, what did you do to Lona?"

"Nothing at all."

"Nothing? Yet the succubus who used to act neutral now looks like she's in love for the first time?"

"Wha-wha-wha-what are you talking about?!"

Lona shot up, her face turning red as she tried to regain her usual rough demeanor.

"Listen! I’m a slave, right? So if I’m going to be a slave anyway, wouldn’t it be better if my master were strong? You know, like how living in the stables of a mansion is better than living in a shack—"

"Yes, of course. If your master is amazing, that’s a very good thing for you, Lona."

"That's exactly what I mean! Wait—no! That’s not what I meant!"

Pien smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to tease her. Lona’s face flushed even more.

Frustrated, Lona slammed something down on the table with a loud *clack*.

"I'll show you that I'm not just some ordinary girl—I'm a slave!"

"...?"

"...?"

Both Risir and Pien stared, baffled by her choice of words. Without clarifying, Lona shoved a pouch of coins toward Risir.

"Here! Take this!"

"Why so suddenly? I told you it was fine before."

"Ha! You’ll change your mind when you see what’s inside."

"Huh? Oh. Wow. This is pretty hefty. What happened?"

"Heh. Some noble asked me to have tea with him. I did, and he said I was delightful and gave me a huge tip. Then he tipped me again because he said my conversation skills were impressive!"

"...Lona? Didn’t you say you work at a café?"

"Yeah!"

"And this customer who gave you those massive tips…was he a man?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Pien let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head.

"Lona, listen. You shouldn’t accept money like that."

"Oh? Are you jealous?"

"Lona, you're underestimating her. If Pien wanted to, she could earn enough in tips to build a castle."

"..."

Lona’s expression turned thoughtful. Rumors about Pien enchanting an entire noble family and turning them into her subordinates floated through her mind.

"What? Are you mocking me?"

"No, I was praising your charm."

Risir's calm gaze only unsettled her more. "Stop it. If you're going to tease me, at least do it properly."

Pien clicked her tongue, annoyed, but didn’t seem entirely displeased.

"Anyway, back to the point. Lona, imagine this: someday, that man comes back to the café and invites you to dinner."

"Ugh. No thanks."

"But you already accepted his money. What then?"

"It was just a tip."

"Who gives tips that large? That wasn’t a tip—it was a personal gift. Men who try to buy affection are usually idiots. If you refuse them, they’ll pester you. Can you handle that?"

"..."

Lona stared at the pouch, clearly conflicted.

"Fine. I’ll return it."

"Do you think he’ll just take it back without a fuss?"

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Mark it as an advance payment for the café."

"What?"

"Say it was for the café’s business. Those types are too proud to argue over that."

"...Oh."

Lona nodded slowly. Even Risir gave Pien a look of admiration.

"Brilliant as always."

"Always? What's that supposed to mean?"

As the conversation shifted, Risir pulled out his own pouch and handed gold coins to Lona.

"What? Why?"

"You said it yourself—having a strong master is better, right?"

"But—"

"Think of it as an investment. Didn’t you say you wanted to grow stronger? A strong slave benefits a strong master. Use it wisely."

Lona hesitated before clutching the coins tightly. "Fine…I won’t disappoint you."

Watching this, Pien narrowed her eyes. *What kind of master treats a slave like this?*

Before she could say anything, Risir handed her gold too.

"Why?"

"You're just as important."

Pien hesitated but noticed she had one more coin than Lona. With a cough, she turned away, pretending not to care.

"Why are you giving me this? You know I’m better off than Lona, maybe even better off than you."

"Come on, Pien. Do we really need to compare?"

"…What exactly are we, Risir?"

"Aren't we practically engaged?"

Pien froze, her expression twisting as she remembered their first meeting.

"You’re insufferable."

"Not as insufferable as someone who tried to control my mind."

"Ugh!"

Her frustration boiled over, but Risir only chuckled, watching her flustered state.

---

The food arrived, and despite the earlier chaos, they began their meal. However, as Risir sniffled, both Pien and Lona turned toward him.

"Risir, you're bleeding!"

"Huh?"

Before he could react, he collapsed, blood pooling on the floor. Both rushed to him in alarm. Pien attempted to use her power to stabilize him, but it was no use.

Suddenly, Lona instinctively reached out, her hand glowing with radiant light that enveloped Risir. Both Pien and Risir stared at her, stunned.

"Lona?"

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[There is a unique presence nearby]

[You are affected by its influence]

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[New skill acquired]

[Skill: Embrace of the Progenitor]

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■ Pien

Level: 31 → 33

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[There is a unique presence nearby]

[You are affected by its influence]

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[Inactive stats are being activated]

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[New trait acquired]

[Skill: Empty Vessel Filled with Purity]

[A new class has been unlocked as a result]

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■ Lona

Level: 1(13) → 13

Class: Priest

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[Your actions are influencing your surroundings]

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[Your influence has reached a critical threshold]

[A special reward has been granted as a result]

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■ Risir

Level: 34 → 35

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[Your body cannot endure the burden of your magic]

[Your body has reached its limit]

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[Title: Body Has Reached Its Limit < What Is This?]

Content: When I hit 99.99% EXP at level 29 and try to level up, I keep getting this message and my HP drops to critical.

What’s going on?

- : This is like my sister claiming she’s not 30 by counting every possible age calculation.

- : I read somewhere that 0.999999… is actually equal to 1. Maybe you’re already level 30?

- : That’s a bit philosophical.

- : It’s more mathematical.

- : Math and philosophy are only a paper-thin difference apart.

- : So if I’m a philosophy major, can I submit a resume for a math position?

- : Nope, not even with a paper-thin difference.

- : Turns out that "paper-thin difference" is *the paper* itself...

-[Author]: I was all excited seeing the comments blow up, but you’re all just talking nonsense.

- : Heh, isn’t this exactly what you wanted when you posted the question?

-[Author]: What are you even saying?

- : But seriously, I didn’t see that message when I hit level 30.

- : Yeah, same. What’s going on?

- : Lmao, you probably abused potions and power-leveled from level 1 in one shot, huh? No wonder the game’s bugging out.

-[Author]: WTF, how did you know?

- : Why else? That message only shows up if you skip the usual leveling pace.

-[Author]: But Namgoong-hyung, how do *you* know about this?

- : Ah, crap.

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"Sniff, sniff... Oh, excuse me. Why is my nose running like this?"

"Honestly, you’re unbelievable. Sniffling while dining with ladies—"

"What ladies? I’ve told you countless times, I don’t—"

Before Risir could finish, Pien and Lona were about to scold him when their expressions turned pale as they stared at him.

"R-Risir, you—blood! Blood!"

"Blood?"

"You’re bleeding! That’s not mucus!"

"Huh?"

Risir brought his fingers to his upper lip. By then, the table beneath him was already soaked in red.

"Pien, stay calm! If you lose your appetite—"

As he tried to make light of the situation, his body tilted to the side and collapsed to the floor. Both Pien and Lona rushed to him in a panic.

Pien recalled the strange incident with the duplicated coin and quickly focused, using her powers to bolster his mental fortitude. But this time, his condition didn’t improve.

*Cough!*

A harsh cough escaped Risir’s lips, blood splattering with it.

"Risir! Risir! Stay with me!"

"I’m still here—it’s just… I can’t move my body…"

Pien’s face went ghostly white, panic evident.

Lona was no better. Her breathing quickened, her chest heaving from the shock.

*What do I do? Do I fetch a priest? But what if they find out my identity…?*

While she hesitated, Risir coughed again, blood pouring from his lips.

Without thinking, Lona stepped forward. She extended her hand toward him.

Logically, she knew there was nothing she could do—

But instinct drove her.

"...Huh?"

From her hand, a radiant, warm light like sunlight began to spread, enveloping Risir’s body in a gentle glow.

"?"

"?"

Both Risir and Pien froze, their panicked expressions giving way to sheer dumbfoundedness as they stared at the former succubus.

"Lona?"