Ch. 218 Yes, it’s me.
by AfuhfuihgsChapter 218: Yes, it’s me.
“Everyone has a secret or two, don’t they?”
“I suppose.”
In the cluttered laboratory bathed in twilight, a bespectacled male student nodded as a woman with closed eyes began to speak.
“Then there are as many secrets in this world as there are people. How suffocating.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Here’s how I see it: ‘If everyone has them anyway, why bother hiding them like some gloomy specter?’”
“Do you not understand the meaning of a secret?”
Trace let out a hollow laugh. His teacher often spun bizarre logic. At first, her mind had seemed merely enigmatic—who knew it housed such thoughts? It was absurd.
Or perhaps that was why she never ceased to be strange and mystifying.
“Listen. A secret exists. You don’t want to reveal its contents, but you do want others to know it exists. So, you flaunt it—then dress it up as something sharp, dazzling, and threatening.”
“…”
“That way, no one dares approach. They know it’s a secret but can’t peer inside… Don’t you wonder how mysterious I must seem to them?”
“You’ve lived by that philosophy? How… crude.”
“Oh my.”
“You’re aware it’s not conventional thinking.”
“Yes, I know. But then again, I am a heretic.”
The atmosphere froze.
Or perhaps it was just his breath catching.
“…That’s not what I meant.”
“Trace. I don’t think you’re conventional either.”
“Why do you say that?”
Louveci grinned.
“That curiosity you still direct at me.”
In the end, you’re drawn to my mystique too, aren’t you? Always questioning, always watching.
Her piercing words left the disciple speechless as his teacher’s lips curled like a serpent’s. A wicked smile. That aura. Trace, momentarily entranced, soon scowled.
“Let’s circle back. So… this deranged, biting safe is the fruit of your ‘philosophy of secrets’?”
—Chomp!
The moving safe sank its teeth into Trace’s shin. This object had sparked the entire discussion.
“Partly. But lately, I’ve taken an interest in bioengineering… so I made it as an experiment.”
“No wonder you’ve been crafting those bizarre snakes! They keep swallowing things—it’s a problem!”
“That’s the point.”
“I don’t even know what you’re saying anymore…”
The man rubbed his temples.
“Fufu… My first disciple. Since we’re on the topic of secrets, let me share a fun story. Say you have a very precious object.”
“Huh?”
“Where would you hide it if you had to?”
“Certainly not in this safe.”
Louveci burst into laughter.
“An old memory. When I was young, I caused quite a stir at the cult. My siblings were little, and I was… not yet mature. Ah, this was when I still had my sight. Back then, I hated everything.”
“…”
“I pretended otherwise, but I loathed fate.”
Now, though, there’s a hint of affection. Love-hate, you could say—she quickly added.
“That day, a ritual was being prepared. A vessel of holy oil sat on the altar. Guess what I did?”
“Knocked it over?”
“Ah, disgruntled as I was, I almost went ‘swish!’—but didn’t. Getting caught would’ve been disastrous. I just pretended to, then tried to leave.”
“But something went wrong, I take it.”
“Yes. You know how children lack fine control? Their movements are clumsy, reckless.”
“…Don’t tell me.”
“I spilled it. A… slightly intentional accident.”
Whether “slightly” was the right word, Trace wasn’t sure, but he nodded anyway.
“What happened to me? The adults were coming. If caught, what punishment awaited? Would a week of starvation suffice? I trembled, hiding in a corner, clutching my pounding heart.”
Louveci placed a hand on her chest, lost in memory.
“Then… a miracle occurred.”
“A miracle?”
“The Lord hid me.”
Ha.
A literal miracle.
“Darkness enveloped me. Keeping me safe at a distance, yet erasing my presence utterly. The altar radiated His aura—the adults bowed, oblivious to me.”
“…”
“I’ve never seen a veil so secure, so sublime…”
“…”
“In that moment, I became God’s secret.”
Her sightless eyes turned reverently upward, as if recalling the divine—even as the same God had taken her vision.
“No one in the cult knows. Not even my closest siblings. A secret between the Lord and me. The blame fell on the oil attendant that day, not me. Ah, that—”
“I’ve been making it up to Him ever since, even now.”
“You’re telling me this? That’s literally ‘God’s secret.’”
“I told you. I don’t want to hide the existence of a secret.”
“You even revealed the content.”
Louveci grinned when Trace nitpicked to the end.
A refreshing smile—utterly unwicked.
“You’re special. My first disciple, after all.”
***************
A pool seething with dark energy. Before this abyss of bottomless greed and malice, a pink-haired white mage tilted her head.
“There’s something inside this? So… we have to go in?”
“Indeed.”
Sugar scrunched her face, baffled, then sighed.
Well, obviously. If there was anything hidden in this place beyond the pool, it’d be in the pool.
Still, it was odd hearing it from a professor—not a cult official.
“This seems dangerous even for me… Who knows how deep it goes? Why do you think so, Professor?”
“Long ago… I heard something from her that suggested it.”
“What was it?”
“…A secret.”
Tch. Sugar scratched her head.
So there was a basis—just one he wouldn’t share.
“Let’s go.”
She trusted the professor wouldn’t spout nonsense in a situation like this.
As Sugar trotted toward the pool, Riley urgently grabbed her arm.
“Riley, it’s fine. Don’t wo—”
“No, listen. I just ran through every scenario in my head. Hand slips—plop. Foot slips—plop. Messing around—plop. All roads lead to plop. Remember when you almost fell at the White Forest entrance? Stay focused.”
“Understood…”
Overwhelmed by the barrage, she nodded meekly. This, too, was love in the form of worry.
But why did it feel like scolding a child? He always treated her like a kid or little sister.
‘I’m older than him. Idiot, idiot.’
Disappointed he didn’t see her as a woman, she shrugged it off. Stern yet caring—this was discipline at its finest.
Riley’s gonna be a great dad someday.
A dad.
And the mom would be…
“…Hehe.”
As Sugar’s epic delusion began in her head, Riley flicked her forehead. “I said focus—you’re already spacing out!”
Rubbing her teary eyes, Sugar knelt primly by the pool and clasped her hands.
“Damutria. I’d like to go inside.”
…
“Hellooo? It’s me. Could you open the door?”
She spoke as if asking a neighbor for a favor.
Vivi, behind her, wore a “Will that work?” face but stayed quiet—until the pool’s silence forced her forward.
“Saintess. For matters like these, at least follow the ritual for—”
—Whoosh!
The energy shuddered, then parted like sliding doors, like split water—a gap appeared.
“Yahoo~!”
“…”
As Sugar bounced ahead, Vivi clutched her own head in despair.
.
.
.
“So… Louveci became the cult’s traitor, I hear.”
“Yes. Correct.”
Inside the pool tainted by the Evil God’s energy—good thing they’d asked for the “door” instead of diving blindly. Even after five minutes of flying downward, there was no end.
“Yet she retains her Apostle’s power? The God she betrayed isn’t angry?”
“Our Evil God’s been alive so long, He’s a bit… no, very broken.”
The wear and tear of time. Before hearing this from Harnielle, Sugar had assumed the Evil God was simply “evil.” But pondering deeper, the answer emerged.
This God must’ve once been rational. The Shadow Cult formed under His covenant: “I shall hide you from the stars.” His followers came later.
The Evil God existed even before the cult.
Now, only instincts remain—drawn to radiance…
“…Hm?”
A thought nagged at her.
Wait. It listened to me just now. Perfectly. Back at the lake, too—when trapped in the crystal tower, I prayed, and it showed me the way out.
“Is it because I’m the Saintess? Or instinctive attachment? A shred of lingering sentience?”
“…Vivi. You’re three years old. Meaning you’re the most recent Apostle.”
“And?”
Apostles sacrificed one of their senses to Damutria in exchange for mystical power.
“So the initiation ritual still works… That’s odd. Shouldn’t the God also be able to revoke a traitor’s power or punish them?”
“It all started ten years ago when Louveci abducted the Saintess, and now she’s sabotaging the Descent Plan. From the cult’s perspective, there’s no greater traitor or evil.”
Yet she still moved freely, as elusive as ever. Puzzled, Sugar asked the same question Trace had earlier.
“Her eyes.”
“Eyes?”
“I heard retrieving that woman’s eyeballs was the Evil God’s punishment.”
Sugar had reclaimed them and returned them to Louveci’s familiar.
“And that’s it? No penalty for thwarting the Descent Plan? She’s still wielding His power. Is this the punishment?”
“Bad Apostles get tossed in the pool~”
“Like that?”
“I doubt it,” Trace interjected.
“If anything, I think He hid her.”
“Hid her? The Evil God… hid Louveci?”
“…Yes.”
What?
Dozens of question marks floated above her head until Riley spoke softly.
“…What if it wasn’t a sin?”
“Huh?”
“Hypothetically. When she betrayed the cult to rescue you, the Evil God punished her. But if He didn’t punish her for sabotaging the Descent Plan… doesn’t that imply He didn’t consider it a sin?”
“So… the Evil God doesn’t want the Descent?”
“That’s the hypothesis.”
None of this made sense.
That greedy God, rejecting a chance to devour countless human “colors”? Were the zealots just arrogantly scheming to “bring our God forth” without His will? Or was His broken mind too erratic to care?
Even diminished, He was still a God. No mortal could fathom His will—only another God could.
“Focus. We’ll ask her directly when we find her,” Riley said.
“Right…”
As Sugar nodded and steadied himself—
“…Hm?”
Sugar glanced around, sensing unseen eyes. Nearby, Riley frowned, staring intently into the void as if his piercing blue eyes could discern something.
“Riley? What’s wrong?”
“…Nothing. Just thinking.”
He pulled her into an embrace without another word.
Cradled against him, Sugar’s thoughts raced—from what lurked in this abyss, to their mission, to her.
The blind woman with black hair and pitch-black attire. The tap-tap of her cane. A brief yet searing encounter a decade ago, still vivid as a brand on her mind.
So many questions:
How have you been?
Why betray the cult?
What lies in your heart?
“Fufu. A child should stay a child—innocent, oblivious, playing freely.”
But I’m an adult now. Today, you’ll answer me.
…
The darkness ended.
Light spilled in.
Sugar landed first, gasping at the scene before her. She hadn’t expected to find her so soon—or in this state. Shock and sorrow twisted her face.
How? Why—?
“My, my,” came the familiar, hypnotic voice—playful, exaggerated, yet calm. “Is this a dream?”
“…Louveci.”
When Sugar finally uttered her name, the woman smiled, indifferent to her own condition.
“Yes, it’s me. Sugar.”
She was the door to this space.
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