Question Rose and Melancholy Rose Devourer - Chapter 7

Translator: MadHatter Editor: MadHatter

Seth was getting a headache from this.

He regretted not standing firm in his refusal and for taking consideration of Roselle.

It might not be too late. After taking advantage of the opportunity and fleeing into the forest to pursue the Cannibal Bouquet, Seth inwardly groaned, “I’m sorry Beatrice, but I’m not going back to the train, I’m going straight to the royal capital, Alba, on foot”.

Although he had left his jacket and luggage behind, it was not essential, nor sentimental to him. This level of cold was bearable.

For Seth, all he needed was his black cloak and the lapis lazuli cane, a memento of his master. As long as he had these two items at hand, there was no problem.

The issue was the present situation.

Seth turned his back to the other party. He tapped the ground with his cane, wondering how to proceed.

The gaze from the azure eyes that pierced his back was intense.

Even so, running through the snow-covered forest at night in Crimson’s attire and high shoes must be exhausting. He was confident that he could escape if he really tried to hare off.

Then, Seth racked his brain, wondering how he could distract him.

“?”

A sweet aroma invaded Seth’s nostrils. No, the sweet aroma had been there ever since he had met Roselle again. He assumed it was Roselle’s perfume or something, but then a strange sensation overtook him.

The sweet aroma was different from that of Roselle’s.

Instead of a sweet fragrance that soothed his mind, it was an obnoxious sweetness that tingled down his spine.

It could even be described as the stench of death.

A sweet rotten smell.

Seth sniffed like a beast and stiffened at the smell, something he had been exposed to before.

“Run?” Seth exclaimed, but he couldn’t finish the sentence.

That guy was already right behind Roselle.

A pair of arms were lifted up.

There was no time to react to the threat that abruptly lunged out from the darkness lurking in the gaps between the vegetation, and vivid shades of red scattered behind ? Roselle.

“Roselle!”

Seth quickly extended his arm. As he forcefully pulled Roselle, who was off-balance, Roselle collapsed to the ground.

The back of his crimson coat had been stripped away.

“…!”

“Are you alright…!”

Seth took a step forward as if to construct a barrier around Roselle.

The Cannibal Bouquet leaped ahead and dived among the trees in a bizarre maneuver that could no longer even be called a beast.

“…Somehow… yeah… even though I have interest in the Cannibal Bouquet…”

Roselle produced a teasing smile, but his complexion was so pale that it was visible even in the dark.

His long coat was ruined totally. Blood was oozing from the flesh that appeared through the perforations in the shirt he was wearing underneath, which was shredded in multiple vertical lines. The wounds were probably not deep, based on Roselle’s condition and the degree of blood loss. However, irrespective of the magnitude of the wound, a wound incurred by a surprise attack would normally be enough to incite fear and inflict psychological damage.

Despite this, Roselle’s lowered eyebrows lifted weakly.

He tightened his lips and withdrew his keen azure eyes from Seth.

“…”

In the depths of his azure eyes, there was another emotion that overrode fear.

Seth could not decipher what kind of emotion it was. Therefore, instead of trying in vain to find out, he followed Roselle’s line of sight.

Beyond the trees. A little further on, a slightly clearer spot.

The moonlight drifted in accompanied by a cool breeze.

The full moon illuminated a reddish-black rose.

There were multiple layers of red roses, reminiscent of a bouquet.

On a carpet of snow reflecting the moonlight, red masses bloomed leisurely.

Seth’s vision was stimulated by the roses, which were so densely packed that they might obscure a person’s face.

The sight of it once again was, for all intents and purposes, contrary to his master’s taste.

“This is the worst…”

Seth spat out reflexively.

Cannibal Bouquet was doing something with both hands plunged into its rose-covered face, munching.

The muddy, muffled, deafening sound of water permeated the white night.

It was difficult to discern what it was doing with its back arched and prone and the profusion of reddish-black roses densely clustered around it. Nevertheless, the wholehearted movement of it exacerbated Seth’s discomfort even more.

The hideous roses were reddish-black, evocative of dragged-out entrails.

It was the same unpleasant smell that Seth had suddenly sensed earlier.

That was the smell wafting from the person in front of him.

The sweet and putrid stench.

A foul, rancid smell, similar to his own favorite fragrance, but with a rotten, unpleasant aroma.

Once he caught a whiff of it, he would never be able to forget it.

“It’s there…!”

Roselle said in a low voice, forcing his emotions aside.

Finally, Seth sensed it.

To what was burning in the depths of his clear eyes.

It was inquisitiveness and ? rapture.

Roselle was delighted by the deformity before his eyes.

Seth’s speculation was confirmed by the next line Roselle uttered.

“At last, we meet!”

Even Seth’s brow furrowed.

“I knew it was real…”

“Roselle…!”

Roselle, who went out like a winged insect lured by the light, was swiftly cautioned by Seth.

“Didn’t I tell you! I’m here for that thing!”

“Cannibal Bouquet devours people! Have you not realized what happened to your back! That thing will make you suffer more devastating blows!”

“But that rose, I?!”

Roselle’s bellowing was severed in mid-sentence.

As if to drown out the sickening sound of the water, the night wind swept by, and the Cannibal Bouquet wriggled.

Its curled back rose with a contorted motion.

The stench of decay that had been caressing its skin increased in concentration.

It was the scent of a rose that had rotted from overwatering.

A dreadful stench that could fester your lungs with a single breath.

He understood what the opponent was doing when it lifted the head – with the bouquet of red roses.

It had a smirk on its face and made a rattling noise.

Cannibal Bouquet was licking its own fingers.

Its body was somewhat unbalanced. Its clothes were dirty and had lost their quality.

Its face, buried in red roses, was only exposed by an eerie, bizarre mouth that was unbelievably ripped open and smiling.

Intertwining both of its fingers with the thick tongue that peeked through yellowed teeth, it caught the roses between its thin lips and sucked them up with a sizzling sound, persistently sucking its fingers – or more precisely, the liquid on their fingers.

Roselle’s blood.

Human blood.

It was ecstatically savoring it.

The temperature dropped in the area.

The chill was so acute that it felt like the temperature had plummeted.

Roselle must have grasped the abnormality of the situation. A gasp escaped his lips.

Apparently, he had regained his composure from his bewilderment. Roselle paused.

His blue pupils, though, continued to sparkle. Nevertheless, it was fortunate that he did not charge at that beast.

“?…Ri…”

A strange sound drifted through the air.

It was a high-pitched tone, akin to the sound of a rusty door opening and closing, or the sound of metal fittings clawing at a piece of glass.

“Not… enou… ?”

By the time it became clear that it was a voice, reddish-black saliva was dripping from Cannibal Bouquet’s oral cavity. No, it was not saliva, it was a rose.

“Ah, mai… wa… ter… not… enough…”

A red rose with nothing but the head.

From the cracked lips of the Cannibal Bouquet, a strange sound broke out.

The petals, which were thin and fluttering, mutated at the moment they touched the ground.?

The pure white snow was invaded by reddish black color.

Rather than falling daintily to the snow, the petals dampened and contaminated the white.

“Not enoughhhhhhh?!”

It was a searing high-pitched distorted scream, like a cold needle being penetrated into your eardrums, and a puppet-like movement lacking substance that corroded your sense of reality.

“?Back off!”