Ch.178Pride in Vanity (5)

A storm had passed.

In the corridor, only silence and snowflakes remained.

Snow flakes, dyed pitch black, fluttered gently.

“Haa, haa…”

At the center, a girl was staggering.

Her breath had chased her all the way to her chin, so rough and ragged.

Forgetting her usual dignity, her appearance was in tatters.

Her legs wobbled.

“Ugh…”

The vain girl swayed momentarily.

Finally, her strength-drained legs gave way and she sat down.

I, who had been waiting behind her, gently caught the falling girl.

I didn’t want dust to soil her pride.

My hands carefully held her waist.

“My lady.”

“…Ugh.”

Was she being crushed by the recoil?

A realm she had forcibly attempted to reach.

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

The girl’s mana was boiling as if it might evaporate at any moment.

I quickly channeled output through my fingertips.

“First, I’ll calm you down.”

Gently—

I placed my palm over her turbulent breathing.

Just as I was about to perform healing.

“I… told… you.”

A sudden murmur reached my ears.

Those distinctive blue eyes looked up at me, smiling.

The gently curved line resembled a crescent moon on a winter night.

Though exhausted, her smile was not shabby.

Rather, it seemed to shine brighter than any star.

The girl, in her most wretched state, emitted the most brilliant light.

Such a paradox created ecstasy.

“That I had something I must accomplish.”

“……”

“I said I’d show you…”

Her voice scattered thinly.

Yet, it didn’t tremble at all.

Vitality flickered in her eyes.

As if demanding applause, or respect.

“……Heh.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

Was she showing off even in this situation?

For a moment I almost found it absurd, but then I thought that even such vanity was just like her.

I pulled up the corners of my mouth as if being influenced by her.

Drawing a faint smile.

“Yes… you were truly magnificent.”

A gentle teasing response.

With my outstretched hand, I stroked her disheveled hair.

The entwining shadow embraced her snow-white skin.

As if praising the traces of her fierce struggle.

Softly—

Amelia quietly accepted my touch.

The temperature and distance that had become familiar.

In the pitch-black winter, we had to pause for a moment.

Until the girl regained her strength and came to her senses again.

“You’ve worked hard.”

And so, we leaned our backs against each other.

***

Meanwhile.

Deron, barely clinging to life with holes in his heart and abdomen.

The brilliant strike had even vaporized his internal organs.

In short, he was on death’s doorstep.

Boiling blood surged from his throat.

“Grrrk…”

Bubbling.

Blood foam bloomed gently.

Paradoxically, his body, reduced to mere meat, showed not a glimmer of hope.

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

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

Befitting one of the continent’s top ice mages, perhaps.

Wheeze, wheeze—

Only miserable breathing echoed in the corridor.

The vitality in his pupils was gradually fading.

In such a situation.

‘Hmm.’

Someone was watching this with interest.

None other than an eye floating in the shadows.

A member of the cult.

‘To think… the Duke would be defeated.’

The Painter (Peintre).

A resource the cult had assigned to monitor Deron.

He had been melting into the darkness, observing the flow of events.

A part of information gathering, you could say.

The man quietly clicked his tongue.

‘…He was quite a useful piece.’

Deron Veniti.

A man with outstanding love for his family and desire to improve his skills.

However, he was overshadowed by his superior brother and never received recognition.

While Deron respected his blood relative, he also suffered from jealousy and inferiority.

A contradictory love, you might say.

The cult targeted him.

-Deron Veniti.

-I will make your desires reality.

-Pledge your devotion to Him.

The cult whispered.

After the death of the Duke and Duchess, Deron was immersed in sorrow.

It wasn’t difficult to tempt a broken person.

Especially one who was desperate for recognition, playing a miserable role.

‘It’s a shame.’

Well.

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

Though it was unfortunate that he remained foolish until the end.

‘It was us. That.’

Exactly four years ago.

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

The man had taken their hand without knowing that.

Completely falling for the demon’s hypnosis.

‘It doesn’t matter anymore, I suppose.’

Slithering—

The Painter rises, stepping on the shadows.

Arms and legs suddenly protrude from the darkness spread across the floor.

He reveals himself in the corridor.

“Ahem.”

Since things had come to this, he thought he might as well greet them.

Or perhaps reduce their strength in advance.

Silently—

The Painter slips out of the shadows.

Attention turns to the sudden presence.

Then he greets them.

“Hello there.”

“…!”

The sudden appearance of a stranger.

The relaxed atmosphere tightened with tension once again.

The staggering blue-eyed girl regained her posture.

Had she recovered already?

Her condition looked quite decent.

“Y-You came from the shadows…?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t be too surprised. I merely wanted to greet you both.”

Of course, it might not be an ordinary greeting.

He hides a sneer in his twisted lips.

Steps approaching like that.

“I am the Painter.”

But.

He didn’t know.

“The fifth apostle, following the will of the Great Father.”

The golden snake hidden under half-closed eyes.

That ominous boy had predicted all of this.

***

“Hello there.”

A man who suddenly appeared.

He had abruptly emerged from beyond the shadows.

“I am the Painter. The fifth apostle, following the will of the Great Father.”

I silently observed the guy.

Not surprised, nor afraid.

‘Finally showed up.’

I had been aware of the presence in the shadows all along.

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

From the beginning, such shallow disguise was merely amusing to my eyes.

To dare hide in darkness before the night itself.

Like trying to cover the sky with a palm.

‘The Painter (Peintre).’

The sentinel who monitored the Veniti family.

Simultaneously, a member of the seven apostles chosen by the demon god.

The Puppeteer, the Gravedigger, the Conductor… all of them were apostles like this guy.

The cult’s top forces in their own way. Of course, among the three mentioned earlier, two had already been sent to hell.

I assess the situation with a slight frown.

“Hmm.”

I had been waiting for this.

I was planning to stop him if he tried to help Deron.

But the Painter just watched, not stepping forward.

That means…

‘…So Veniti was a discarded card too.’

Nothing had changed from the original work.

The cult ruthlessly discarded even their own allies in the end.

The businessman, the Venitis, the criminal organizations in the back alleys… they threw them all away like worn-out shoes at crucial moments.

I glare at him with cold, sunken eyes.

He was a young man exuding a relaxed atmosphere.

“It was all our doing.”

A mouth as light as his demeanor.

Had he grown impatient?

“In the name of the Great Father.”

The Painter was running his mouth.

Toward the staggering Amelia.

Like a scene from a movie delivering a shocking twist.

His vilely raised lips were utterly disgusting.

“I was quite surprised. I didn’t expect the Duke’s side to be defeated.”

“Were you watching from the beginning?”

“As it happens.”

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

“Sharp observation. Deron Veniti was a good chess piece.”

The young man lets out a small laugh.

Then he adds.

“Because he was a stupid human.”

“Stupid meaning?”

“Didn’t I tell you? It was all our doing. Assassinating the previous Duke and Duchess, tempting the despairing Deron Veniti, taking control of the Veniti family—it was all a scheme orchestrated by our side.”

“What…?”

The blue eyes wavered.

Had she been shaken?

Amelia, hearing the truth, couldn’t help but pause.

After all, her parents’ death was involved.

The girl refutes with furrowed brows.

“Nonsense.”

“Hmm?”

“My uncle already admitted it. That he was connected to the accident back then.”

“He didn’t exactly give a clear answer, as I recall? Typically, people with strong pride tend to avoid answering.”

Thud, thud—

Deron’s body sprawled on the floor.

The Painter extended his foot and trampled on the meat several times.

With each application of weight, blood and flesh splattered in all directions.

He shrugged as if finding it trivial and spoke.

“Isn’t it truly garbage?”

“You…!”

Amelia’s eyes widened.

She clenched her fists, taking a stance as if ready to charge at any moment.

However, the Painter cackled as if even this situation amused him.

He vilely stepped back.

“Unfortunately, I have no desire to clash today.”

His sleeve glinted.

Then, a magic stone appeared in the young man’s hand.

It was a stimulant with compressed Demonic Energy.

‘Familiar pattern.’

It was the same in the original work.

The Painter always escaped by sacrificing something.

This time, he probably intended to use Deron.

By injecting the magic stone into his heart, he could corrupt a living being.

It seemed his plan was to slip away from the mansion while the chimera-transformed Deron went on a rampage.

He greeted with a grin.

“Well then, shall we say goodbye?”

His hand moved like that.

He didn’t forget to smile with confidence in his victory.

But.

“That’s far enough.”

Why should I put up with this?

“How impudent.”

“Ugh…?!”

Thwack-!

Distance closed with a single leap.

Without hesitation, I grabbed him by the collar.

The body wrapped in lies couldn’t move.

For the first time, confusion spread in his previously composed pupils.

I said.

“Following clichés too closely gets boring, don’t you think?”

Sometimes you need to get caught before you can escape.

A sinister smile formed on my lips.

My eyes half-closed.

“This is breaking the cliché.”

I had already pierced his heart.