Volume 4, Chapter 5-1 – Come Love Me, Mom

The Samael Family Head looked at Stella, his golden slit pupils filled with contempt.

Giving up the Valentine surname and entering the tournament under Darkfallen, a name that belonged to no known family.

It was simply the biggest joke in the world.

Did she want to be a lone wolf?

Vivian Valentine had clearly spent far too long living a comfortable life if she could actually allow something like this to happen.

Since he had the opportunity, why shouldn’t he eliminate a competitor ahead of time, before the Abyss Supremacy Tournament even officially began?

He looked at Veronica.

Veronica was, without question, his most perfect pureblood weapon.

She possessed the most violent power, the purest bloodline, and the most perfect talent.

As long as he gave the order, Veronica would perfectly carry out his will, tearing out the enemy’s throat without the slightest hesitation.

Absolute obedience. Never betrayal.

Some so-called Valentine genius wouldn’t even last a quarter of an hour against a pureblood monster.

“Veronica, did you hear everything I just said?” The Samael Family Head asked.

Veronica did not speak.

She had heard everything Father had just said.

Not a single word had escaped her.

According to Father, Stella was the easiest target of them all.

An idiot who had voluntarily surrendered her qualification as an Elector before the Chalice of Sin.

A contestant who could simply be taken out ahead of time, before the Abyss Supremacy Tournament officially began.

Veronica lowered her eyes and asked softly.

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“Where is my toy?”

The Samael Family Head frowned deeply.

Again.

That meaningless obsession.

Lavinia’s disappearance was indeed troublesome, and it had made Veronica’s emotions somewhat unstable lately.

But it was only a minor inconvenience. Once the tournament was over, he could simply assign another trusted demon subordinate to become Veronica’s toy.

If a tool broke, replace it.

“Lavinia isn’t here for the moment,” he said, turning his head away, his tone perfunctory. “Once the important business is finished, she’ll come back. Now, be good. Listen to me. When it’s late and everyone is asleep, take a few dragon attendants and eliminate Darkfallen.”

Veronica stood silently in place, her long golden hair covering most of her face.

She knew Father was lying.

Lavinia was already dead.

It wasn’t as though she felt particularly sad or angry.

But to Veronica, losing a toy was like having a length of hair cut off. When she habitually reached for the very end, only to grasp empty air, even if she clearly knew there would eventually be a replacement, there would still be that fleeting sense of loss.

Veronica knew.

Her real mother had died from complications while giving birth to her. She had never met her. Lavinia was merely someone Father had assigned to keep watch over her.

A nanny, a bodyguard, a convenient tool used to soothe her whenever her emotions spiraled out of control.

Yet Lavinia was the only person who would try to hold her hand when she had nightmares, and the only person who, after Veronica went berserk and hurt someone, would neither hit nor scold her, but simply hold her quietly.

The only person she called Mom.

Veronica knew Lavinia did not like being called that, and Lavinia had never willingly accepted the title.

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Every time Veronica called her Mom, Lavinia would freeze for a moment, then change the subject.

But Veronica kept calling her that anyway.

Even though Lavinia did not love her and was afraid of her.

Because when she called her Mom, Lavinia would stay.

When she called her Mom, Lavinia would not leave.

As long as her toy could give her warmth, as long as her toy did not leave her, then she could endure anything.

She could torture her however she wanted, deceive her, belittle her, humiliate her, hang her in the air, force her to bow and obey, force her onto all fours…

As long as someone would gently pat her back when she choked, hold her hand when she couldn’t sleep peacefully, and pull her into an embrace whenever she whimpered…

She was like a little girl who spotted her beloved toy in a shopping mall and refused to move, stubbornly repeating what she wanted.

But Lavinia still left.

Disappeared.

Died.

Veronica looked toward the other end of the reception hall.

The girl named Stella was standing there, her long hair interwoven with silver and red, dressed in a black evening gown and holding a glass of red wine.

There were traces of memories lingering around her, indistinct and vague, almost like a scent. Veronica could close her eyes and feel completely at ease, believing that Mom was this close, that she herself was surrounded by that indescribable scent.

Mom’s scent.

Over a long life, the absence of a toy she could embrace would ultimately become unbearable.

Veronica was jealous of the dark red liquid inside the glass.

She watched Stella pour it, swirl it gently, let it slowly slide down the glass walls, gradually awaken and unfurl amid its rich fragrance, then come alive once more in the delighted gleam between her lips and teeth.

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The silver-and-red-haired girl seemed to sense something and glanced over.

Their gazes collided.

Then Stella looked away and continued talking to that Book Demon as though nothing had happened.

She was avoiding her.

Veronica thought.

She was unwilling to become Mom. She wanted nothing to do with her.

She was not even willing to look at her for one extra moment.

If something she had desperately searched for had remained lost from beginning to end, perhaps that would have been fine. But instead, she had accidentally caught sight of it, reached out her hand, and then could only watch helplessly as it slipped through her fingers.

Veronica’s heart pounded violently.

Her craving for a toy was just as intense as her craving for slaughter and gluttony, just as impossible to resist. It was practically instinct.

She wanted a toy, a toy that would never leave her for the rest of her life, a toy exactly like Mom.

Veronica herself did not understand why it absolutely had to be someone like Mom instead of anyone else.

She thought that only a toy like Mom would truly love her.

She could imagine how those hands would feel resting on her shoulders, how safe they would make her feel, how cherished and protected.

Veronica lowered her eyes.

Without love, there was no pain. Without love, there was nothing to give. Even if she had love, it still could not fill the emptiness in her heart.

Without love, she was nothing at all, merely a walking corpse with a name.

Veronica’s fingers slowly tightened.

A poisonous weed had grown inside her heart, and before she pulled it out, she wanted to embrace it.

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And then…

Use her own embrace to seize happiness, then strangle it, kill it, destroy it.

Otherwise, it would flee and slip away.

Veronica wrapped her arms around herself.

“Come love me, Mom.”

—————

Stella couldn’t help shivering, as though someone had set their sights on her.

She instinctively looked back, her gaze sweeping across the crowd.

“What’s wrong?” Remedios asked, tilting her head.

“Nothing,” Stella said, shaking her head. “I just feel… a little cold.”

She rubbed her arms.

‘Probably just my imagination.’

Who would have nothing better to do than think about her?

Translator Note

Yeah, there’s no sane demon xD

I completely tricked by Veronica’s innocent appearance lol