Sin-Eater by Razzmatazz

Author:Razzmatazz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LitRPG, Reincarnation, High Fantasy, Original, Web original, Webfiction, Original setting, Comedy, Anti-Hero Lead, Action, Fantasy, Completed, Male Lead, Strong Lead, Adventure, Dungeon, Magic, Progression
Publisher: www.royalroad.com
Published: 2021-06-24T00:00:00+00:00

Hurray! Character growth =)

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★★★★★

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- MY STORIES -

  -) Dungeon Item Shop

  -) Sin-Eater

  -) TANGO Heavy

  -) Respawn Condition: Trash Mob

* * *

- OTHER JUNK -

Open for writing/editing commissions!

Chapter 32: Concupiscence

“Don’t drink too much.”

The familiar voice rings through his head as he stands there out on the balcony, looking out over the moonlit, empty courtyard. Nina, the distorted from the well, had told him exactly that during her confession. He had always thought it was just a side quip, given her back-story.

But what if there’s more to it? What if she knew something? What if she was warning him of this? Canta clenches his fists. It was right in front of him the entire time. Sure, it could just be a coincidence. But what if it isn’t?

He looks down over the side of the balcony. The drop is about three stories, give or take. Grabbing the railing, he vaults over it and falls.

The landing is unsuccessful, once again. His ankles snap, his knees buckle and dislocate as he fails to roll.

It hurts.

He wants to think that he’s gotten used to it, the pain. But, there are certain pains you just never really get used to. This kind of pain that he’s feeling right now is that kind.

“You have to swing your shoulder into it,” advises Alleluia, scooping him up for the fourth time tonight. She cradles him against her body and carries him back through the cathedral and up the stairs, so that he can try again.

Canta is trying to learn how to fall properly. He’s small, so he gets thrown around easily, not just by Alleluia, but by the palatinos during their sparring sessions or by the creatures he has fought so far. He needs to learn how to recover from being flung or thrown and the best way to do that, in his eyes, is to repeatedly jump off of balconies in varying heights.

“Are you sure that you don’t want me to just kick you?” she asks.

“I’m sure,” replies Canta, wincing through the aches of his bones regrowing again. “You’ll end up getting used to it,”he quips.

She looks at him knowingly. “You mean like that other thing you asked me to do with my -“

“Don’t talk about that in a church!”

“It’s a cathedral, sugar-cake.”

“That’s even worse!” argues Canta and she laughs. They had made up after he apologized. She had thought these last few days that he was mad because she had coerced him to drink. Canta laid everything bare before her, metaphorically, explaining his worries without sharing the spoken-details of the vision he had experienced.

The sanctity of the confession is absolute, after all.

Perhaps, if she truly is an asset of the demon-king who was just playing dumb, as her strange behavioral swings might suggest, then this was a horrible idea. But, if she isn’t and she is truly just as clueless as he is, then this was the wise move.

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