Chapter 408

Chapter 408

For Sale. Fallen Lady. Never Used.

Episode 408: Contemplation

Let’s rewind time a bit, to before the God of Tainted Unity and the Reckless Roar had fallen.

The corrupted Carla, whom some abbreviated as Tarla, another Carla, took out Yandel’s records, which she had obtained from former Count Kipros’s mansion some time ago.

A collection of documents detailing everything from the moment he entered the academy. Tarla had read it countless times, yet she began to read it again.

This was because, for her, who possessed the memories of a half-destroyed world, it was full of unbelievable content.

‘This isn’t a story that ends with subduing a few cult groups and raiding dungeons.’

Accurately knowing the scale and abilities of the Evil God’s cult, and calmly dismantling it from the ground up. No matter how much future knowledge one possessed, it wasn’t a plan that could be easily conceived, nor a feat that could be easily accomplished.

‘This is something only possible for someone who has pondered and despaired for a long time, yet couldn’t bring themselves to let go of their lingering attachments.’

In the first place, future memories aren’t omnipotent. Tarla herself has memories of a different future than the present, but that doesn’t lead to the secrets of other Evil God cults.

It’s something only granted to someone who relentlessly unearths secrets, whether victorious or defeated, and regrets the past where they failed to make better choices in every moment.

Of course, all that obsession and despair belonged to Fafnir… but for Tarla, who didn’t know the full story, it was a natural step to mistake it for Yandel’s.

‘But there’s one thing I don’t understand.’

Why didn’t he kill her?

Yandel’s actions were flamboyant, but the principle behind them was very simple.

Cultists are killed. If they’re hiding, they’re found and killed. Even if they haven’t done anything wrong, they’re killed anyway. In short, everyone is killed.

Wasn’t he a man whose entire world seemed to consist only of murderous intent and hatred?

…Of course, Tarla’s slightly deranged subjectivity was involved here, but precisely because it was subjective, she didn’t notice it herself.

At most, seeing him with many women, she just thought he was a bit of a philanderer.

Thus, Yandel, who dealt with cultists with unwavering severity and no compromise, had one exception.

Carla Lindelheit. Herself.

“Why didn’t you kill me? No, even if I concede a hundred times and understand why you kept me alive as a slave. If I were a woman who would become an Apostle of an Evil God, I would have accumulated a lot of resentment and might want to vent it a little. But to spend a fortune to buy me and then cherish me so much? Why?”

The documents included a kind of explanation.

It said that he took her in as a slave to inherit the vision of the Lindelheit School of Magic, treated her well, and made her a teacher.

Tarla didn’t believe any of it.

‘Thinking about the current Yandel, he could have become strong in any number of ways, not necessarily through Lindelheit’s magic. There must be some reason.’

Just as the Lindelheit Core mimicked the Dragon Heart, it should have had good compatibility with Yandel, who seemed to have a deep connection with dragons.

But that wasn’t a reason to keep a future apostle alive and cherish her.

‘Could it be…? No way… Could something have happened between me and him in the future?’

Tarla, who didn’t know about the existence of someone with mana-nullifying constitution, was making a deduction based on a flawed premise from the start. However, for Tarla, who had been dragged here without seeing her own end, it was the most plausible conclusion.

As if to solidify Tarla’s misunderstanding, Yandel in the records was focused on revealing the identity of the Boiling Silence.

Even when he hadn’t accumulated enough power, Yandel willingly opposed the Empress of the Empire. For Carla, and no one else.

“If…”

If she had also had someone like Yandel. Would things have been a little different now?

A stinging sensation flowed from the depths of her heart, and Tarla unconsciously clutched her collar.

Forcibly suppressing the envy that rose like a sharp awl, she shook her head.

‘In any case, the real opponent I need to take revenge on was someone else.’

She didn’t know before. She just hated the world that had framed her, and she hated the people who had sided with it, so she couldn’t bear it unless she dragged them down to her level.

Resentment, regret, despair, self-blame, hatred, anger, resignation, jealousy, and so on. All sorts of negative emotions had made Tarla the perfect vessel for an Evil God.

Thanks to that, Tarla had gained power and happily destroyed the world. That’s why she even felt a slight gratitude towards the Grotesque Proliferation, who had reached out to her.

But that Evil God… to think that the Boiling Silence had brought about the downfall of the Lindelheit family.

The flames of revenge that had wandered aimlessly even after killing Count Kipros twice slowly converged in one direction.

Is fire also a flower? Her lips softly curved upwards, as if blooming. A seductive smile hung on Tarla’s face.

“This worked out perfectly.”

Now that quite some time had passed since her rebirth, Tarla was well aware that something in her body was creaking.

It wasn’t that her body hurt, or that her lifespan was running out, or that her body was breaking down because it contained authority without being an apostle.

It was a more fundamental twist. Her body and memories were fine, but there was a sense of incongruity felt because her soul was absent.

A chronic problem for created beings. Fafnir had already failed once and brought over the soul itself, but the Boiling Silence, lacking experience, had repeated the same trial and error.

Since Tarla’s very existence was meant to screw over Yandel, he might have known and simply not cared…

Even if he had tried to fix it, Tarla was ultimately a record stolen and scraped together by looking into a future that would now never happen.

She wasn’t an existence that had actually existed somewhere, but merely a realization of possibility. Essentially, she was just a shadow of Carla, so the soul to be brought over simply didn’t exist.

The only possible methods were to steal the soul of the current Carla in this timeline or to overlay memories onto it.

But since the rightful owner of the soul was the current Carla, it was obvious that Tarla would be swallowed up instead.

More than anything, Tarla herself didn’t want to do that.

Wouldn’t it be like admitting that she was just a fake of Carla and desperately trying to steal the real one’s place?

For Tarla, who considered herself an independent existence, it wasn’t even worth considering.

So, was she to continue living as a soulless being and be devoured by the distortion?

“That’s not right. There is a way.”

One way or another, Tarla was an apostle of the Grotesque Proliferation. That meant she was someone who handled the Grotesque Proliferation’s authority better than anyone else.

Enough to mimic the miracle of rebirth that the Grotesque Proliferation had used to break free from their seal.

If she succeeded, then Tarla would also gain her own soul… gaining life in the truest sense.

The problem was that an enormous amount of divine power was needed to perform such a miracle of rebirth.

For Tarla, who hadn’t ascended to godhood and couldn’t, it was an infinitely distant matter.

However, she was lucky. Surprisingly, in this era, there was a god-slayer who hunted Evil Gods.

“I don’t need to eat everything. Even a part will be enough. If I digest the remnants of several Evil Gods, that should suffice.”

Tarla, holding Yandel’s records in her arms, took out a map.

Her murky ruby eyes fixed on Nidavellir.

Arriving in Nidavellir, Tarla realized she was a little late.

The two Evil Gods had already combined their power into a single avatar, and Yandel was barely holding on.

Tarla hadn’t expected the two Evil Gods to join forces.

‘I can’t let him fall here.’

The vague rage that had burned towards the world focused on the Evil Gods, and it was an idea that Tarla, who had nurtured curiosity while reading Yandel’s records, could come up with.

However, regrettably or fortunately, Yandel wasn’t just pointlessly stalling for time.

The blessing of the Clashing Steel descended upon the giant golem, which had already been concluded as impossible, and then Yandel suddenly boarded it and began fighting the giant.

An unimaginable sight. Yandel in the golem displayed wondrous combat, driving the two Evil Gods into a corner, and finally, as the morning sun dawned, he proved the name of the god-slayer.

But perhaps it was because he fought with every ounce of his strength. The golem, which had been suspended in mid-air, began to fall helplessly.

Yandel’s companions on the city walls were hurriedly flying over, but they were a little too late. At this rate, Yandel would be seriously injured, or even die.

The moment that thought crossed her mind, Tarla moved without realizing it.

Thanks to that, she somehow managed to catch the golem, and after his women belatedly followed, she staged a hostage situation and had a brief exchange with Yandel.

‘This is a little surprising.’

The premise of the Evil God’s death wasn’t very surprising. That was the kind of person he was. However, she never imagined he would risk himself just for Faye.

To fight in her stead to prove she wasn’t wrong. What an arrogant yet deeply affectionate thing to say.

And even prioritizing the safety of his companions over his own well-being.

Tarla revised her assessment of Yandel in her mind.

‘So, as much as he unconditionally hates Evil Gods, his women are just as precious to him.’

As someone who had experienced the same terrible future (or so she mistakenly believed), Tarla could understand.

He must have lost someone precious before.

Perhaps her heart softened due to the shared feeling. Tarla asked a question she hadn’t intended to ask.

A question about her own end.

Yandel initially hesitated and kept his mouth shut, but at Tarla’s urging, he carefully continued.

And with the confession of murder filled with longing, regret, apology, and affection, she realized.

‘Ah!’

This person liked me. But I probably wouldn’t have been able to let go of my revenge, so he would have had to kill me in the end. Maybe the precious person he lost wasn’t me?

Surely, that regret was why he tried to save her as soon as he returned to the past.

…Of course, it was all a misunderstanding, but there was no one here to correct her.

That’s what contemplation is. In one’s own mind, it might feel like perfect logic and realization, but in reality, it’s often just a highly subjective delusion.

Regardless of the truth, Tarla, who felt a little strange, chuckled involuntarily and lightly tapped Yandel’s shoulder.

“Since I saved your life once, you should save mine next time.”

Your regret and effort weren’t in vain. Thanks to you, I know my real enemy, and I won’t engage in indiscriminate slaughter anymore.

So, this time, we don’t have to try to kill each other.

Did that meaning get across properly?

“Huh?”

Yandel blinked blankly, looking foolish. At that sight, she unconsciously averted her gaze.

“Don’t ask again when you understood. Ah, and I’ll be taking that, so you know.”

Then, without looking back, she took the two heads of the giant and activated her authority of concealment.

With this, she had collected four remnants of Evil Gods. If she obtained just three more, Tarla could be reborn as a complete being.

‘The strange feeling I’m having right now must be because of the anticipation of becoming whole.’

Tarla muttered to herself and left the scene.

Completely unaware that Yandel—suddenly robbed of the spoils—was once again stewing in fresh hostility.