098. The Wicked (2)
“…Lies.”
Bella didn’t want to believe Owen’s words.
Even as she saw the sincerity reflected in his dark eyes, she muttered to herself in denial.
“If you want to believe that, then do so.”
Owen made no effort to convince her, as if to say her disbelief was inconsequential.
“It won’t change the truth.”
“….”
Bella gripped the hem of her dress tightly, unwilling to accept his words.
She still clung to the notion that perhaps it would be better to dismiss everything as lies, to pretend she hadn’t heard any of it.
Maybe, just maybe, she could simply claim Owen for herself.
“I chose him.”
But Owen’s next words pierced her thoughts.
“I will become him, and he will become me.”
Bella bit her lower lip so hard that she tasted blood.
The metallic tang of it was a stark reminder of the reality she was desperate to reject.
“There are no regrets in this.”
Owen’s voice was firm, his conviction unshakable.
“I am not dying. Nor am I sacrificing myself. So don’t draw your own conclusions.”
“….”
He drew a clear line.
Bella’s actions and thoughts—he dismissed them as selfish delusions born of her perspective alone.
“You must have realized it already. That you see parts of me in him.”
“…That’s why I didn’t think it mattered,” Bella admitted reluctantly.
Owen was right. She had always known.
This Owen and the Owen submerged in the depths of his mind were both him.
And that’s why it didn’t matter.
“It didn’t matter as long as I could have either of you.”
“You’re relentless,” Owen remarked with a sharp click of his tongue.
“What’s the difference between you and Marquis Celid’s disgraced heir?”
He cut straight to the point, comparing her to the very man who had been utterly ruined.
Bella’s lips quivered as she tried to respond.
“I’m not like him…”
“You aren’t now. But the moment you try to claim him by force, swallowing the true Saintess in the process, you’ll become worse than him.”
“….”
She couldn’t deny it.
Even if she wasn’t killing ‘Bella,’ her actions were no less cruel.
And trying to claim Owen by any means necessary was undoubtedly selfish.
“…So what?”
Bella finally spoke, her voice defiant.
Her goal had always been clear.
In this world, all she wanted was Owen.
And it wasn’t just this world—her original world held nothing she desired.
Owen was her sole purpose and goal.
“What if I still want him?”
“You won’t be able to.”
Even as her silver eyes gleamed with obsession, Owen remained composed.
He met her gaze with a calm warning.
“Whatever your plan, don’t delude yourself into thinking he’ll simply let it happen.”
“If I back him into a corner and leave him no choice, it’ll be too late for him to resist.”
“He might flee to another nation, cross the continent, or disappear from the world entirely,” Owen countered with an air of indifference.
“If you knew Verdun well enough, you wouldn’t say such things.”
“….”
“The information you have is just fragments of this world. Don’t overestimate yourself.”
Bella seethed in frustration but couldn’t argue.
As she bit her lip in silence, Owen continued.
“And you’d be wise not to underestimate the Saintess.”
He struck a nerve, hitting her precisely where her doubts and fears lay.
Bella clenched her teeth.
Of course, he would bring it up. He was fully aware of how unsettled she’d been.
“She’s staying quiet now because she doesn’t want to harm your soul. But if she senses that she’s on the verge of being consumed, she’ll retaliate. You’ve already experienced it, haven’t you?”
His tone was almost lazy as he gave his final piece of advice.
“The original owner of that body is the Saintess, not you. You’d do well to remember that.”
“….”
Bella remained silent, unable to refute him.
And then, Owen closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, someone else had taken control of his body.
“Did the conversation go well?”
The tone was similar, but Bella could tell the difference.
Owen had intended it to be clear.
“…You bastard.”
Bella glared at him, spitting out the words bitterly.
“You’re just painting me as the villain.”
Her voice trembled with genuine anger.
At her accusation, Owen tilted his head slightly, as if genuinely confused.
“Why do you think that?”
Bella shot him a glare that could pierce steel, her expression screaming the question she didn’t voice: ‘Are you seriously asking that?’
Owen, still composed, continued.
“Didn’t I just say?”
“Say what?”
“That I’m the villain.”
Bella frowned, unsure what he meant.
Owen casually picked up his tea and elaborated.
“That’s what I meant. You’re not the villain.”
He spoke as if stating an indisputable fact.
“I made it so it seems that way.”
Owen willingly admitted it.
Just as *The Flower of the Empire* had used Lucia as a scapegoat, Owen had done the same here.
“Blame me all you want.”
His voice was calm, unwavering even as he offered himself up to her ire.
It was the voice of someone prepared to bear the consequences of his actions.
“The price of my sins is mine to pay.”
“Heartless bastard.”
Bella cursed him again, her frustration evident.
She couldn’t understand why he was so willing to take on all the blame, why he seemed so indifferent to her hatred.
“You’ll do anything to get rid of me, won’t you?”
“To achieve what you desire, one must do whatever it takes—as long as it doesn’t harm others, it shouldn’t matter.”
Owen’s logic was simple and clear. He didn’t care about what others did, so long as it didn’t affect him or his people. Even if harm was done, as long as he remained unaware, it wouldn’t concern him. However, if someone dared to harm those under his protection, he would ensure they paid the price in full.
“Does your method avoid causing harm?”
Bella had tried to harm Lucia. While not directly responsible, she had stood by, knowing the events would unfold, and did nothing to stop them. That was undeniably an act of harm.
“Do you think the things I’ve had to forgo because of your actions don’t count?”
Even knowing this, Bella questioned him. It was her final argument, her last stand.
She had no options left. As Owen had stated, the man before her was beyond manipulation.
She had clung to the hope that perhaps Verdun, who never set foot in the temple, might submit to its narratives. But deep down, she knew he wouldn’t.
If Owen wanted to, he would refuse, hide, and even flee. Likewise, ‘Bella’ would resist fiercely if her existence was at risk.
Though Bella had hoped things wouldn’t come to that, reality had already veered off course.
She was teetering on the edge of a cliff.
“The things you’d lose were built by stealing from others to begin with.”
Owen’s response was unwavering.
Everything Bella had gained in this world had originally belonged to ‘Bella.’
Even if Owen stripped her of it all, it wouldn’t truly be wronging her.
“Leave now. It’s the better choice for you.”
A fateful decision was presented.
Bella gripped the hem of her dress tightly, then sighed deeply.
“…Congratulations.”
In the end, it had come to this.
Despite all her plans and efforts, nothing had gone her way.
“You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted.”
There would be no happy ending for Bella in this world.
The person she yearned for was utterly out of reach, no matter what she tried.
“Fine. What else can I do? I’ll go.”
* * *
Bella was granted one final day.
Though she was leaving the place where she had spent several months, she tidied up her surroundings as if it were nothing.
In truth, there wasn’t much to pack.
Even after she left, ‘Bella’ would remain.
The Saintess’s role, her bedroom, her connections to the Taylor family—all would return to their original state.
It was only Bella who would vanish from this world.
There was nothing for her to linger over.
Owen was the only thing that had held meaning for her in this world, and without him, nothing else mattered.
Bella carried on as usual, went to bed, and awoke the next morning. Her first destination was the Mage Tower.
“Get in.”
When she arrived, Kyle was waiting for her.
He guided her to the Mage Tower’s carriage, hinting at a secret destination.
“…So you’re here too,” Bella muttered as she climbed into the carriage, her eyes meeting Owen’s.
The Mage Tower’s carriage was large, offering ample space, but finding Owen seated opposite her was unexpected.
“So you don’t change your mind at the last moment,” Owen replied indifferently.
“I don’t take back what I’ve said,” Bella retorted, her tone sharp.
Once she was seated, Kyle entered the carriage as well, taking a seat beside Owen, just as he had during their northern expedition.
“Let’s depart,” Kyle said, knocking on the carriage wall.
The carriage began to move smoothly.
As Bella gazed out at the passing scenery, she furrowed her brow, curiosity overtaking her.
“So, where are we going?”
“To a secluded clearing,” Kyle answered calmly, his tone almost courteous.
He turned to Bella and offered an explanation.
“Dimensional transfer magic is a high-level spatial spell. It’s far more complex than standard teleportation and requires a large magic circle.”
“I see,” Bella nodded, the reasoning perfectly sound.
“If someone else gets caught in the magic’s range, they could be pulled into the dimension you’re heading to—Earth, was it? So it’s best to avoid any accidents.”
The logic was irrefutable, and Bella accepted it without question.
The carriage traveled for quite some time, moving farther and farther from the Mage Tower.
Eventually, they arrived at the edge of a quiet rural village, surrounded by vast, untamed fields.
“We’re here,” the coachman announced, pulling the carriage to a stop.
He opened the door politely, and the three stepped out onto the deserted field.
“Please wait a moment.”
Kyle began casting protective barriers around the area, layering spells to prevent any interference or unwanted attention.
“To keep you entertained, I brought some books,” Kyle added, pulling a stack of them from a spatial pocket.
There were all sorts of genres—comic books, novels, magazines, and newspapers.
“Ah, thank you.”
The coachman took the books without hesitation and retreated to his seat, casually flipping through them as if this were routine.
Bella watched the scene unfold with a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Kyle shrugged nonchalantly and offered an explanation.
“You always hire a coachman who knows when to keep his mouth shut.”
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