Chapter 563 Beelzebub Calls Himself ’Woman’
Dawn crept silently behind the ruins of the city, slipping through the cracks in the crumbling walls and bouncing off the cold stone floor. A faint golden light slowly entered the room where Fitran and Beelzebub were resting. In the peaceful silence, only their breaths could be heard, slowly, harmoniously, calmly.
Beelzebub woke up first. Her body still felt heavy, but not as weak as the night before. Her hand reflexively touched her belly, and for the first time since all of this began, she felt something strange—not anxiety, not fear, but... closeness. A connection she had never imagined before. She paused for a moment, allowing this new feeling to fill her heart. There was a warmth flowing through her, like morning light piercing through the fog, bringing light to the dark parts of herself that had long been forgotten.
As if sensing this wave of emotion, the corners of the room began to speak to her. The cracked walls whispered of loss, but among the gaps, there was a glimmer of hope—like fresh morning dew on the leaves. With every breath, she felt the tension of the past, when she was just emptiness. Now, in this body, she felt a voice within her that begged to be heard. No longer just something hollow, but something full of desires and dreams she had tightly closed off for so long.
On the other side, Fitran was still asleep, one hand tightly holding Beelzebub's hand as if refusing to part even in sleep. He looked peaceful. His face was calm, slightly softer than usual, free from the burdens of war or the will of the gods and demons chasing him. Beelzebub gazed at Fitran, feeling an unexpected surge of affection. Every detail of his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the soft sound of his breath, even the gentle sigh on his lips—seemed to remind her that this love could save them from darkness. In that tranquility, Beelzebub felt a raging conflict, between deep love and the fear of loss that always haunted her.
Beelzebub stared at the man's face for a long time, then whispered in a voice barely audible:
"I am no longer emptiness. I... am a woman. I love him. I carry his child. And I will protect both of them—even if I have to fight the whole world."
As those words slipped from her lips, a storm arose within her. There was a strong fear of losing her freedom, and at the same time, a deep desire to accept this new reality. Yes, the space in her heart that was once empty was now filled with courage and love. She felt like a queen on the battlefield, standing above everything, but with a vulnerability hidden behind it all.
Gently, she touched Fitran's face, feeling him closer, as if trying to channel all the love and worries that surged within her to be understood. She knew she had changed. By acknowledging this love, she also acknowledged her weaknesses. The sky outside began to turn red, signaling a new day full of hope—and in her heart, Beelzebub felt her promise to herself, to no longer run from who she truly was.
Those words lingered in her chest. She remembered a time when she was a nameless, formless entity, just a dark will that could not be understood, feared, and hated. That dark shadow haunted her thoughts again, as if the whispers of the past continued to echo in her ears. However, amidst the golden light that began to illuminate her mind, a feeling grew. A feeling that had previously been considered taboo: the longing to be loved and accepted.
But now, she had a name, a role, and a warm body. She even had weaknesses—and because of that, she felt whole. A few tears fell unbidden, feeling free from the burden of emptiness. She remembered the first time she felt it; a gentle heartbeat within her, which felt like hope. Hope that had never belonged to a formless entity.
Beelzebub stood slowly, putting on her robe that she had removed the night before with tenderness. She stepped outside the ruins, letting the cold morning air sweep across her face. The fog still enveloped parts of the city, but for the first time, she felt that the fog was not threatening. Rather, it was protective. The morning air brought freshness, as if erasing the dark traces that once existed. Every gust of wind felt like a gentle embrace, calming her soul that was turbulent with newfound peace.