Episode 116

“…A believer of Erea.”

The Duke read the text in a low, steady voice, almost as if reciting a poem.

If I hadn’t understood the words, I might have thought it sounded beautiful.

But unfortunately, the meaning of the ancient text I had been so eager to learn was nothing short of horrific.

–

A believer of Erea.

Their limbs will be torn apart, they will suffer unbearable agony.

They will wail, beg for mercy.

And in the end, they will slay Erea with their own hands and walk into hell, crying out for Ursis.

Revere her. The true goddess.

–

The moment the Duke finished reading, a suffocating silence filled the room.

Even in a holy nation, there were people like Gordon who didn’t truly believe in the goddess.

I, a Saintess candidate, wasn’t particularly devout either.

And despite the successful unification of faiths, it was impossible to eradicate the remnants of heretical sects.

Somewhere, hidden and silent, they still existed in this land.

But this text—translated by the Duke himself—was more than just heresy.

‘This is outright treason.’

A shiver ran down my spine.

Most heretical sects either preached the existence of other gods or claimed that their leader was the true incarnation of divinity.

The common factor was always expansion—spreading influence, gaining followers.

But this—

‘Believers of the goddess will slay her themselves and walk into hell…’

I replayed the line in my head.

This wasn’t symbolism.

This was a curse—a declaration to eradicate not just the faith, but the very people who followed Erea.

Now it all made sense.

Of course Logan had gone through so much trouble to hide this.

And at the same time, I couldn’t breathe as the realization hit me—

In my past life, Logan had hidden this disgusting, vile curse within the Duke’s manor the entire time.

It was then that—

“…At this point, Logan, you seem far more dangerous than Belze, who supposedly practices dark magic.”

The Duke’s voice broke through the silence, cool and composed.

Unlike me, still frozen in horror from the translation, he and Edwin looked completely unfazed.

“Don’t you think so, Logan?”

“…I—”

Now that all eyes were on him, Logan’s lips parted and closed hesitantly.

It was clear—he hadn’t expected the Duke to find the inscription.

He had likely assumed the chaos would keep their attention elsewhere.

‘That’s why he kept trying to pin the blame on me—to buy time and divert suspicion.’

Though he had been caught, that probably didn’t matter to him anymore.

Because now—

He was searching for a way to escape.

His careless, dismissive attitude suddenly made sense.

He had no intention of winning this argument—only of finding a way out.

CLANG! SHIIING—!

The atmosphere, which had briefly lightened thanks to his ridiculous bald head, immediately darkened again.

More swords were drawn.

The killing intent in the room grew thicker.

And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder—

What would Logan try next?

Because I knew.

That man—

Was too cunning, too slippery, to go down without a fight.

“Shameful, but…”

“……”

“Please think of it as nothing more than the reckless mischief of my youth.”

“Mischief?”

“Yes. Your Grace, you know of my background. Given my childhood circumstances, I’ve never held fond feelings toward the temple, so… I may have gone too far—”

Logan trailed off, feigning a sheepish expression.

‘I see.’

Just like earlier, when he tried to frame me for the dagger and dark magic, it was a blatant lie.

But now, by weaving in a sliver of truth about his past, he made it sound plausible.

“The content is far too seditious to be called simple mischief.”

Unfortunately for him, the Duke wasn’t buying it.

“I’ve captured quite a few heretics in my time, but I’ve never come across a passage like this before. Is this ‘Ursis’ the new god you serve?”

His tone was sharp—more of an interrogation than a conversation.

Logan flinched, waving his hands wildly.

“N-No! I swear, it’s nothing like that! That text, it just… Uhgh—!”

Unlike before, when he had smoothly talked his way through accusations, Logan suddenly collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain.

My eyes widened in shock.

Logan had been injured by Edwin, yes—but it hadn’t been severe enough to make him faint.

Yet now, he was pale, his face drenched in cold sweat.

“Y-Your Grace… Forgive me, but I believe I’ve lost too much blood.”

His voice trembled as he tried to steady himself, shaking his head as if to clear his vision.

“Would it be possible to continue this questioning after some emergency treatment?”

“Are you feeling dizzy? Nauseous? Weak?”

“…Yes, I am, but—”

“That’s a relief.”

The Duke nodded before adding,

“The foul-breathed, bald-headed devil inside you is finally being purified.”

“…What?”

Logan blinked, confused.

Even I was momentarily thrown off.

Had I really just heard my insult come out of the Duke’s mouth?

‘Purification?’

Was that why Logan had collapsed?

“Using dark magic on sacred ground comes with consequences, Logan.”

Step. Step.

A familiar voice accompanied the sound of approaching footsteps.

“If Belze was really a witch, she should’ve suffered the same effects. But look at her—completely fine.”

Edwin had stepped in front of the fallen Logan, lightly tapping his shoulder.

“Guess that means she’s not the heretic after all.”

“Th-That’s—!”

Logan’s eyes snapped open, realization dawning too late.

“No… No! Then the reason you were stalling this whole time—”

At that moment, I finally understood too.

Just like Logan had been stalling, waiting for an opportunity to escape—

The Duke and Edwin had been stalling too.

Because Logan was already doomed.

Both the Duke and Edwin had merely pretended to entertain Logan’s excuses—biding their time, waiting for his dark magic to be purified by the holy ground.

‘No wonder they seemed so unbothered…’

The Duke aside—

Edwin, despite having intruded into someone else’s room, had been far too bold and composed from the start.

It was clear now.

This was all according to plan.

‘So… the Duke and Edwin had already figured out that Logan was a heretic dark mage?’

In my past life, Logan had successfully hidden his identity until the very last moments of the Duke’s downfall.

I never even knew what happened to him afterward—I had been imprisoned in the imperial dungeons after the poisoning incident with Diana.

That’s why, even after my regression, I hadn’t immediately suspected him of being a temple spy.

But now…

‘How did they realize it so early this time?’

I tilted my head in confusion.

Suddenly—

Logan began chanting in Ancient Tongue.

“Y-Young Lord! Get back!”

The knights, alarmed, quickly moved to shield Edwin.

But Edwin merely shrugged, relaxed as ever.

“It’s fine. He’s just trying to run.”

“Wh… Why isn’t it working?”

Logan’s face went blank as he continued chanting.

But—

Unlike earlier, when violet magic circles had surged around him—

Nothing happened.

Not a single glow, not even a spark.

His magic—completely gone.

A true miracle was unfolding before our very eyes, but it was almost too surreal to believe.

“D-Damn it! No! My mana! Do you know how long I spent gathering that—?!”

“……”

“Do you know what I endured to survive all these years?! I worked myself to death in this cursed place for over five years, and now you expect me to just die like this?!”

Logan, finally accepting his fate, clutched at his remaining strands of hair and screamed.

Then, without warning—

His eyes rolled back, and he lunged.

“Die, you cursed Estarode bastard—!”

He leaped toward Edwin, arms outstretched, aiming for his throat.

I barely had time to scream—

“Belze, close your eyes.”

A quiet tsk—

Followed by the shing of a blade leaving its sheath.

The Duke had drawn his sword—one-handed, still holding me in his other arm.

Then—

A wave of sheer, overwhelming killing intent filled the air.

I shut my eyes tightly.

For some reason, I knew—

I didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

And I was right.

Slick.

The sound of something being sliced open.

A brief silence.

Then—

Splurt—!

A sickening gush.

The warm, metallic scent of blood.

And finally—

“Aaaaaaargh—!”

Logan’s tormented scream.

With my face buried in the Duke’s chest, I trembled violently.

Even though I wasn’t looking—

I could feel everything.

“…Even when Edwin first told me you were suspicious, I didn’t believe him.”

Shing.

The Duke slid his sword back into its scabbard, voice eerily calm.

“My old friend, Jester, left you in my care before he died. Must have known his end was coming, considering the pathetic will he left behind.”

“Grahhh—!”

“You have no one to blame but yourself. I was the one who let a filthy rat into my home.”

Even through Logan’s agonized wailing, I caught a note of bitterness in the Duke’s voice.

Then—

Thud.

At last, Logan’s cries fell silent.

By the time the Duke spoke again, his voice had returned to the cold authority of House Kallios’s leader.

“Tch. Take him away.”

His knights moved immediately.

“Cut his tendons—all of them. Gather what’s left of him and throw it in the dungeons. I want him awake when he sees what’s become of him.”

 

 

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