The Peaceful Life of a Maid Who Hides Her Power and Enjoys It

<Episode 159>

 

“I would rather it was Sir Rowayne. Or at least someone who isn’t suspicious or dangerous.”

“Is Raphael my mother?”

 

Raphael, who shot me a look, pressed his crumpled forehead with his thumb.

 

“You… sigh. Damn it, forget it. Just follow me.”

Even though I didn’t say anything, I was already following him.

 

We descended further underground.

 

However, we encountered an unexpected problem along the way. The structure of the underground laboratory was much more complex and spacious than we had anticipated.

 

Raphael and I started looking around, maintaining a suitable enough distance where we could hear each other’s voices.

 

And then, at that moment.

 

―Kiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

 

“…Raphael, did you hear that?”

 

No response.

I cautiously moved my steps in the direction Raphael had gone ahead. In the not-so-distant darkness, glowing red eyes looked back at me.

 

A devil.

―Kiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

 

Swiftly, I drew my pearl sword and cleaved the approaching devil in half. The devil’s physical form immediately turned into black ashes and disappeared. As if I’d cut through a shapeless fog.

 

‘…An illusion?’

It was only then that I realized.

This was a mental trap.

 

‘When did I get trapped? Where is Raphael?’

 

As I slowly turned my head in place, I reached one conclusion.

Something was wrong with this trap.

 

Usually, in a mental trap, the target was only able to distinguish whether its opponent was illusory or not when they were already aware they were in a trap.

 

But here, it was the opposite. Didn’t I only realize it was a trap after the intended devil dispersed like an illusion? In other words, it meant this was an unstable trap.

 

“Raphael! If you can hear my voice, answer!”

 

―Kiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

 

“…Agh, I didn’t call for you.”

 

In the darkness, the previously hidden red eyes opened one by one. One, two, three, four… ten of them? Isn’t that too many?

 

Moreover, these creatures were like the ‘real’ devils that I knew. Not the weak and incomplete devils I encountered as prey, but rather, devils that were large, fast, and possessed high intelligence.

 

“Andert!”

I heard a familiar shout that froze me in my sword-wielding stance.

 

Beyond the scattered ashes, I saw a woman running towards me, her movements as weak as a corpse’s. Her sunken eyes and gaunt face were unmistakable. Even if she hadn’t spoken, I would have recognized her at a glance.

 

“Snap out of it, Andert!”

“…Natasha.”

 

The moment I recognized her existence, a flurry of ashes swept through my vision, and the surroundings instantly transformed.

 

We were standing in a canyon.

At my feet lay the bodies of the Allied forces and devils, behind me a blazing bonfire, and next to it, families huddled together in a makeshift shelter, trembling with fear.

 

It wasn’t the devils the refugees were afraid of. They were afraid of…

 

Me.

 

“Andert! Look at me. I’m Natasha. Not a devil, but the next monarch and your future spouse, Natasha! Focus your mind. You must not become a sword demon!”

 

Natasha, who shouted at me until her voice became hoarse, approached me with calm steps.

 

‘Have I become a sword demon?’

 

No, that wasn’t the case. Wasn’t the resonance of my sword quiet? Besides, I was no longer capable of becoming a sword demon.

 

“Easy… Yes, that’s it. Stay calm. Don’t hurt yourself.”

 

Even so, I couldn’t push away her outstretched hand, filled with affectionate concern, as if she were dealing with a child. When her slightly rough fingertips touched my skin, a sigh escaped me out of pity.

 

‘Even if it’s just an illusion, this appearance is too much.’

 

Even during wartime, she didn’t look this pitiful.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

Natasha gently caressed my face with trembling hands. And then…

“Don’t be afraid. I will protect you, Andert.”

 

A sharp blade pierced directly below my heart.

 

“…I will protect you. I have to protect you, Andert.”

 

Once more.

“So all of you, disappear.”

 

Again.

“Everyone that torments Andert, everything that threatens him, all of it, disappear! Disappear!”

 

Blood gushed out like a fountain from the round hole in my left chest.

The illusion shattered. The canyon where the sandstorm blew vanished without a trace, melting into the shadows, and darkness once again engulfed the surroundings.

 

But something was strange.

 

Why did I feel pain?

Why was I hurting?

 

How foolish. The reason I was in pain is simple. This was real blood, not fake. I wasn’t stabbed by an illusion. I was…

 

I was stabbed by Natasha.

 

Damn it.

 

Those demons, that canyon, those refugees! They were not my illusions, they were Natasha’s illusions.

 

The Natasha before me wasn’t fake. She was real. That’s why it was so convincing.

 

“It’s me, Tasha.”

 

You were the one who destroyed this laboratory.

I stumbled back a few steps, my body collapsing. Thud. The blade slipped from between my bloody fingers. My once sharp eyes lost focus and began to darken.

 

“…No.”

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“I didn’t do that.”

 

I reassured Natasha while slowly trying to maintain a steady breath.

 

“I know, Natasha. It’s okay. It’s fine. So go find Raphael…”

“No, no, no! This isn’t it! I didn’t do that! I, I…”

 

Natasha sank to her knees, clutching her head with both arms, and burst into tears.

 

“Help me… Please, help me, Andert.”

 

I couldn’t hold on much longer.

 

Blood trickled through the gap in my chest. Ah, right. Blood could pour out like this. As I stared blankly at the blood pooling on the floor, I felt a familiar energy that shouldn’t be felt.

 

―Come to me.

 

―Become a part of God.

 

In an instant, my fading consciousness surged back to life like a lightning strike.

 

“Mephisto’s heart, don’t tell me you…”

 

Did she eat it?

Was that why I felt Mephisto’s energy in the wound she made?

My words were choked up by the oozing blood.

 

“Daisy!”

 

From beyond the darkness, someone cried out my name like a scream. I recognized this voice. It wasn’t Natasha’s. It was my brother, Andert’s voice.

 

Was he underground, too?

As I reached out my hand hesitantly to the voice, a firm warmth grasped my hand.

 

Strangely, my heart became relieved. 

At the same time, the face I wanted to see in my darkened vision came to mind.

 

‘Rue. What should I do?’

 

You must be worried.

I can’t leave you behind.

 

My whole body sank into the abyss. I fell endlessly into a deep and dark pit. I knew this sensation.

 

The sensation I felt four years ago.

The sensation of death.

 

I closed my eyes as I felt myself dying.

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

My soul shattered completely. I was broken.

 

“Who dares?”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Someone whispered to me.

“You test my limits until the end, Daisy.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

The cracked soul seemed to be gaining strength again.

“You’ve reduced me to a trivial being that is swayed by a mere mortal.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Am I dead?

“….”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

Am I dead, Rue?

“No, give up on that. You can’t.”

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

I…

 

.

 

.

 

.

 

“Because you can’t die without my permission.”

 

* * *

 

“Haaah!”

 

The cold air rushed in with force, piercing through my lungs.

My body, which stood up like I was convulsing, trembled like a shivering tree in the cold. Instinctively, I opened my eyes wide and then closed them tightly again.

 

“Haa, haa.”

 

Where am I? 

As my senses, which had been closed off, opened up, a flood of information rushed into my mind.

 

Among them, the most vivid was memory.

 

The cold underground floor. Natasha’s face filled with fear. Andert’s voice calling my name.

And my dead self.

 

‘…Am I alive? I’m sure my heart was pierced.’

 

A chill ran down my spine. Could this be the afterlife?

 

But my five senses were too vivid to be dead. As I looked around with captivated eyes, I soon realized that I was lying in a very familiar bedroom, and I let out a relieved sigh.

 

‘I’m not dead. I’m back at Midwinterre.’

 

This was the Weatherwoods mansion at Midwinterre. 

How the hell did I get back though? Did Rue carry me and fly in or something?

 

I stumbled out of bed. Fortunately, there was no great dizziness. It’s just that I felt a little uncomfortable while moving.

 

‘Somehow, it feels like my perspective has gotten a little higher.’

 

Standing with an infinitely awkward feeling, I walked to the mirror. And as soon as I arrived in front of the mirror, I hardened like a rock.

 

There was a person standing in the mirror who should not exist.

 

“…So this is indeed the afterlife, yes? right?”

 

Andert Fager, the hero of the Magic War, not the Viscount Daisy Weatherwoods.

 

---

 

the nickname, btw, ‘Tasha.’