episode_0178

Silence, and only snowflakes, covered the hallway.

Snowflakes stained black gently fluttered.

“Haa, haa…”

At its center, a girl staggered.

Her ragged breaths came up to her chin.

Forgetting her usual haughtiness, her appearance was a mess.

Her legs wobbled.

“Ugh…”

The vain girl swayed for a moment.

Eventually, her strength-drained legs gave way, making her collapse on the spot.

Just then, waiting behind her, I gently caught the collapsing girl.

Because I didn’t want dust to mar her pride.

With my hands, I carefully held her waist.

“Lady.”

“…Ugh.”

Was she being crushed by the recoil?

A realm she had forcibly tried to reach.

Having coveted transcendence with the body of a mere mortal, the price was by no means light.

The girl’s mana was boiling as if it would vaporize any moment.

I quickly channeled power into my fingertips.

“First, I’ll calm it down.”

Gently—.

I placed my palm over her heaving breaths.

Just as I was about to perform the treatment.

“I… I told you, didn’t I?”

A sudden murmur.

Her unique blue eyes looked up at me and smiled.

The gently curved line resembled a winter night’s crescent moon.

Her exhausted smile was haggard.

But it wasn’t pathetic.

Rather, it seemed to shine brighter than any star.

In her most disheveled state, the girl emitted the most brilliant light.

Such a paradox evoked rapture.

“There’s something I absolutely have to achieve.”

“……”

“I told you I’d show you…”

Her voice scattered thinly.

However, it didn’t tremble at all.

A flicker of vitality shone in her eyes.

As if demanding applause, and respect.

“……Pfft.”

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

Was she still acting high and mighty even in this situation?

For a moment, I was almost dumbfounded, but then I thought such vanity was just like the girl.

I lifted the corners of my lips as if I were being influenced by her.

A faint smile spread across my face.

“Yes… you were truly magnificent.”

A calm, teasing reply.

With my outstretched hand, I stroked her disheveled hair.

The enveloping shadow embraced her pale skin.

As if praising the traces of her fierce struggle.

Smoothly—.

Emilia quietly accepted the touch.

The now familiar warmth and closeness.

We had to pause for a moment in the black winter.

Until the girl, her energy returned, regained her senses.

“You worked hard.”

And so, we leaned our backs against each other.

***

Meanwhile.

Deron, with holes pierced through his heart and abdomen, barely clung to life.

The flashing blow had even evaporated his internal organs.

In short, he was at death’s door.

Regurgitated blood gurgled in his throat.

“Gurgle…”

Bubbling.

Blood foam quietly bloomed.

Paradoxically, his body, reduced to a lump of flesh, showed not a single glimmer of hope.

His limbs were frozen stiff, and all major internal organs located below his heart had been torn out.

It was a miracle that he was still breathing even for a few minutes.

One might say it was fitting for one of the continent’s foremost ice mages.

Wheeze, wheeze—.

Only his wretched breaths echoed in the hallway.

The vitality in his pupils gradually faded.

In such a situation.

‘Hmm.’

Someone was there, observing this with interest.

None other than eyes floating in the shadows.

He was a member of the cult.

‘Surely… I never thought the Duke would fall.’

Peintre.

The personnel the cult had assigned to monitor Deron.

He had been constantly melting into the darkness, grasping the surrounding situation.

Should one call it part of information gathering?

The man clucked his tongue softly.

‘He was… quite a useful pawn, though.’

Deron Benity.

A man whose love for his family and desire to improve his skills were both exceptional.

However, he was overshadowed by his older brother, who was more talented than him, and thus wasn’t highlighted.

Deron respected his blood relatives, but on the other hand, he suffered from jealousy and an inferiority complex.

Should one call it a contradictory love?

The cult targeted him.

-Deron Benity.

-I will make your desires a reality.

-Devote yourself to that being.

The cult whispered.

Deron, who had been plunged into grief after the passing of the Duke and Duchess.

It wasn’t difficult to entice a broken human.

Especially if it was a human in a pitiful role, thirsting for recognition.

‘What a waste.’

Well.

He was someone they would discard someday, so it was fine.

It’s a shame he was foolish until the very end, though.

‘It was us who did it, actually.’

Exactly four years ago.

Because the ones who assassinated the Duke and Duchess were none other than the cult.

The man had joined hands with them, unaware of that fact.

Having completely fallen under the demon god’s hypnosis.

‘Now, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.’

Creeping—.

Peintre stepped out of the shadows and stood up.

Arms and legs abruptly emerged from the darkness spread across the floor.

He revealed himself in the hallway.

“Ahem.”

Since it had come to this anyway, he intended to at least greet them.

Or perhaps reduce their combat strength beforehand.

Slipping—.

Peintre subtly slipped out of the shadows.

Gaze drawn by the sudden presence.

Following that, he greeted them.

“Greetings.”

“……!”

The sudden appearance of the strange man.

The relaxed atmosphere immediately tightened with tension again.

The staggering blue-haired girl regained her posture.

Had her recovery finished already?

Her condition seemed quite fine.

“He, from the shadows…?”

“I hope you won’t be too surprised. I merely intended to greet the two of you.”

Of course, it might not be a usual greeting.

He hid a sneer in the twisted corner of his lips.

His steps approached.

“I am Peintre.”

However.

He did not know.

“I am the Fifth Apostle, who follows the will of the Great Father.”

The golden snake concealed within narrowed eyes.

That the ominous boy had predicted all of this.

***

“Greetings.”

The man who appeared suddenly.

He abruptly emerged from beyond the shadows.

“I am Peintre. I am the Fifth Apostle, who follows the will of the Great Father.”

I stared at him silently.

Yet without surprise, and without fear.

‘Finally, he shows himself.’

I had always been aware of the shadow’s presence.

He was also a character who appeared in the original story.

From the start, such shallow disguises were laughable to my eyes.

To dare try to hide in the darkness in front of the night itself.

It was like trying to cover the sky with one’s palm.

‘Peintre.’

The watchman who had been monitoring the Benity family.

At the same time, he was also a member of the Seven Apostles chosen by the demon god.

The Puppet Master, the Gravedigger, the Conductor… all of them who had appeared so far could be considered apostles like him.

They were, in their own way, the cult’s top combatants. Of course, two of the three mentioned earlier had already been plunged into hell.

I assessed the situation with a faint hum.

“Hmm.”

I had been waiting for this anyway.

Because if he tried to help Deron, I intended to stop him.

But Peintre merely watched, not stepping forward.

Which meant…

‘So, Benity was a sacrificial pawn after all.’

Nothing had changed from the original story.

Because the cult would mercilessly discard their allies in the end.

Businessmen, Benity, even the criminal organizations of the back alleys… they all discarded them like worn-out shoes at crucial moments.

I glared at him with cold, sunken eyes.

He was a young man exuding a relaxed aura.

“It was all our doing, you see.”

His mouth was as light as his demeanor.

Perhaps he couldn’t hold back?

“In the name of the Great Father.”

Peintre was running his mouth.

Towards the swaying Emilia.

Like a scene from a movie, revealing a shocking twist.

The sneer that twisted his lips was utterly hideous.

“I was quite surprised. I never imagined the Duke would be defeated, you see.”

“Surely, you were watching from the beginning?”

“Coincidentally.”

“……Seeing that you didn’t help him, my uncle was a discarded pawn to you.”

“You’re sharp. Deron Benity was a good chess piece.”

The young man let out a small laugh.

He then added.

“Because he was a foolish human.”

“What do you mean, foolish?”

“Didn’t I tell you? It was all our doing. Assassinating the former Duke and Duchess, luring in the despondent Deron Benity, and thus seizing control of the Benity family—it was all a scheme devised by us.”

“What…?”

Her blue eyes trembled.

Had she been shaken?

Upon hearing the truth, Emilia couldn’t help but flinch.

Because her parents’ deaths were intertwined within it.

The girl retorted, her brow furrowed.

“Nonsense.”

“Hmm?”

“My uncle already admitted it. That he was involved in that incident.”

“I don’t recall him explicitly confirming it, though? Humans with strong pride often evade direct answers like that.”

Thump, thump—.

Deron’s body lay sprawled on the floor.

Peintre extended his foot and stomped on the lump of flesh a few times.

With each step, blood and flesh splattered in all directions.

He shrugged, as if bored, and spoke.

“Isn’t he truly trash?”

“You…!”

Emilia’s eyes widened.

She clenched her fists, taking a stance as if she would step forward immediately.

However, Peintre cackled, as if even that situation amused him.

He took a despicable step back.

“Unfortunately, I have no intention of clashing today.”

His sleeve glinted.

Afterward, a magic stone was clutched in the young man’s hand.

It was an awakening agent with compressed magic within it.

‘A familiar pattern.’

It was the same in the original story.

Peintre always used something as a sacrifice to escape.

This time, he must be planning to use Deron.

Because injecting a magic stone into the heart can corrupt a living being.

It seemed he planned to casually leave the mansion while Deron, turned into a chimera, rampaged.

He grinned, greeting them.

“Well then, shall we bid farewell?”

His hand moved.

He even included a smile that confirmed his victory.

But.

“That’s enough.”

Why should I let that happen?

“How arrogant.”

“Ugh…?!”

Thwack—!

The distance closed with a single leap.

Without hesitation, I grabbed him by the collar.

His body, entangled in falsehoods, was frozen still.

For the first time, bewilderment spread through his relaxed pupils.

I said.

“It gets boring if you always follow the clichés, doesn’t it?”

Sometimes, you have to get caught before you can escape.

An ominous smile lingered on my lips.

My narrowed eyes were now half-open.

“Cliché broken.”

I was stabbing his heart.