Chapter 221: Grant Me Love

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All noise faded into the distance, her focus narrowing solely on the being before her.

Time seemed to crawl.

“What… did you say you wanted to harvest?”

Sugar’s voice trembled as she repeated the question.

The doll—unsettling in its appearance. A mannequin-like figure devoid of expression. Though it had all the features a person should possess—eyes, nose, mouth, ears, skin—and spoke with a human voice, it was utterly repulsive.

Perhaps it was because it lacked a heart entirely.

“Your love,” it replied.

“Love?”

“Harvest your emotions. Bestow upon me your heart. Then, I shall become a truly perfect offering, and you who offer it shall prosper. The Lord will grant you blessings unlike any before.”

“…So this is what you—no, the being behind you—has been after.”

Sugar exhaled sharply as she spoke.

The doll merely stared back with lifeless eyes.

Sacrifice your emotions, and I will grant you the power to overcome this situation.

“How long have you been planning this?”

“The Lord has always watched over you. Worried for you. Guided you.”

So, it had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And now, that moment had arrived.

The Evil God controlled the hole in the ceiling, allowing endless enemies to pour in. Conventional magic was useless. There was no escape from this confined space.

She’d been completely outmaneuvered.

She’d been wary of the Evil God’s minions but never expected the deity itself to act so aggressively.

She’d assumed it was a broken, fallen thing, reduced to mechanical responses. Yet here it was, still retaining enough intellect to scheme—fitting for something that called itself a god.

“One last question… What does Damutria think of the Descent Plan? Was it his idea?”

“No. At present, he does not desire the descent.”

“Why?”

“The Witch has not been eliminated. She is treacherous and dreadful. She must be removed. Only then will it be safe.”

“What? Who is she? Who could possibly—”

“You already know the answer.”

“…”

The Evil God’s envoy—itself a being more treacherous and dreadful than most—declared that the Witch must be eradicated.

“I have answered your question. Now, it is time for the offering. Grant me your emotions.”

It pressed her without allowing a moment to think. The doll’s urgency was one thing, but there truly was no time to deliberate. Enemies were still flooding in.

“Just one more question… Why do you want my emotions so badly?”

“So that I may gain a heart and become a perfect offering. The Lord will rejoice when He receives it.”

“Beyond ritualistic reasons.”

“The Lord is lonely. Empty. Yearning. He craves your radiance, your richness, your vivid intensity. But He cannot claim you yet. The Witch stands in the way. So He devised a way to savor a fragment of your brilliance. A way to draw closer to you.”

“In other words, you want a piece of me without risking anything?”

“That is correct.”

Was that really all there was to it?

A faint suspicion stirred in her.

Had it orchestrated all this just to take a part of her?

Had it been biding its time all this while?

‘Timing-wise… does this relate to my increased strength? Or my acknowledgment of love? If the Evil God began moving because I’ve ‘ripened’ enough, that would make sense…’

Yet, something still felt off.

The timing was one thing, but the goal—she doubted it was solely about claiming a fragment of her.

Today was the first she’d heard of the Evil God’s will: the elimination of the “Witch.”

For a safe descent, she had to disappear.

‘The Witch… surely that refers to the Traveler within me—’

BOOM!

A deafening explosion. Sugar jerked her head up at the relentless noise, frustration evident in her sigh as she looked toward the source.

The unmistakable surge of magic from her childhood friend was palpable.

Turning, she saw Riley, his face twisted in concentration, lips moving endlessly as he chanted spell after spell against the unending tide of enemies.

A low rumble shook the space—geometric entities seemed to be attacking the ceiling. If it couldn’t be broken from the outside, perhaps it could from within.

There was no time for complex thoughts. Riley was fighting alone, overexerting himself. Vivi couldn’t use her abilities, and Louveci and Moon’s fusion was already in full effect.

There was only one way to break this stalemate.

Sugar parted her lips softly.

“One final question.”

“Ask.”

“If I give you my emotions… what happens to me?”

“When you spend money, your wallet empties.”

“…”

“When you give emotions, your heart empties.”

“…”

“It is simple logic.”

The doll’s face betrayed no emotion as it spoke. It was merely a vessel, relaying facts.

“So I’d become emotionally impoverished? Like you, a hollow doll?”

“I have no heart. I do not know emotional poverty.”

“…”

“So let your love teach me. Let me understand how deprived I’ve been. And in that moment, I will give you your answer in return.”

Sugar lowered her head in silence.

Emotions.

Love

What is love?

Countless stories speak of it.

Sometimes it brings joy, sometimes sorrow, sometimes even ruin.

It binds people together, and it tears them apart.

Some save the world for the one they love; others destroy it.

Clichéd as it may be, humanity cannot escape its grasp.

But let’s shift the question—what is Sugar’s love?

Sugar’s unnatural affection—vast as the ocean, lofty as the sky, clinging like quicksand.

She wants to claim every one of Riley’s connections as her own. She longs to entwine herself in every act of passion born from his desire.

Would it have been the same with someone else? Would she have clung to another with this same obsession?

No.

It’s because it’s you.

You, who should have shattered and trampled me completely, saved me instead.

That moment when I saw the cover of the grimoire and realized the truth—when fear gripped me—your words carved themselves deep into my mind.

Because it was you.

When she feels Riley’s gaze, her mood lifts.

When their eyes meet, her chest swells.

When their hands touch, her mind buzzes with sweet, intoxicating pleasure.

Calling each other’s names, reaffirming their existence—just knowing they can fills her with joy.

Yet when he resists, irritation flares. Dark thoughts whisper: What if he were as broken as me?

(Please forgive her for these tantrums, these fits of anger.)

She loves him so much—she wishes he loved her the same.

It stings that he doesn’t seem to.

(She can endure it, but sometimes, tears still come.)

Around him, she feigns indifference, playing coy over these feelings.

(Maybe it’s because she’s never been good at honesty.)

She imagines him laughing at her foolishness—and hopes for it.

She just wants to keep enjoying their time together.

And then it hits her.

Love is woven into every thread of Sugar’s emotions—her joy, her anger, her sorrow.

Sugar’s love is her emotions. Her emotions are her love.

It’s what makes her shine. What makes her human.

So—

So then—

These feelings belong to Riley. They exist because of Riley.

They’re the most precious part of who Sugar is.

And now—

You dare try to take them from her?

“Cut the bullshit.”

Something deep within her chest began to boil.

“Evil God. I don’t care how you see me. Saintess, doll, obsessive freak—call me whatever you want. Throw whatever trials at me you please. I’ll endure them all. I’ll claw my way through, gather my strength… and in the end, I’ll destroy you.”

The air trembled as she spoke. Magic, tangled with her emotions, pulsed outward from her in waves. Yet her voice remained eerily calm.

“But this—this is too far. You’ve crossed a line. My love isn’t something you can lay a finger on. No one can. No one but one. Not the Evil God, not a saint—not a single drop. Never. Never.”

Her gaze was dark, submerged in something bottomless—yet around her, an oppressive, suffocating energy rose in perfect silence. The air itself grew heavy, thick with the pressure of emotions and magic on the verge of detonation.

And yet, her voice was ice.

“Are you angry right now?”

The doll’s empty eyes blinked as it asked.

“No.”

Sugar’s hand shot out, gripping the doll’s head with crushing force.

A surge of something erupted from her clenched fingers.

“Tell your god this is all I’ll give him. It’s still an emotion—so take it.”

If the doll wanted an emotion born from love—then fine. This, too, was tangled in love.

Bottomless hatred.

A pure, unfiltered loathing beyond joy or sorrow.

But even this was a streak of light cast into the void.

Radiance.

Color.

The doll’s body flooded with hate—an endless, crashing tide of emotion.

“Ah. Aah. Ah—”

The doll shuddered. Overwhelmed by the violent, destructive stimulus—yet devouring it greedily, like a starving thing tasting its first meal.

And for a single moment—its eyes flickered with something almost human.

Fear. Greed. Ecstasy and terror, twisting together.

Then—

Black mist coiled around the doll, swallowing it whole.

At the same time, it wrapped around Sugar.

The offering was complete.

The god accepted even this—delighted.

And so, the blessing descended.

Haaah—

She exhaled.

Now, divine energy thrummed through Sugar’s body. A shadowy black halo loomed behind her head. The warm pink of her hair had vanished, leaving only pure, blinding white.

The Evil God’s Saintess had arrived.

Translator Note

KYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! SUGAR LETS GOOOO!!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! I saw some of you all were worried… I usually translate the chapters the day they come out but I translated all the way through this arc because I just couldn’t wait and WAO eheheheheheh she’s the best… ehehehehehe… Sugar without her love is a terrifying though…