The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

TLed by NolepGuy

Chapter 213

The lights were off.

Even late at night.

Even at dawn.

The lights of the inn, which were always kept on, were turned off.

Should I feel puzzled?

Or should I think nothing of it? The emotion felt in the calmly settled senses was not confusion but unease.

Mana was emanating from the inn. It was too overwhelming to belong to a mere adventurer and too eerie to belong to a wizard.

I think I understand now.

Why the lights of the inn are off.

And why the Apostle is in the North. I think I’m finally starting to grasp it.

“Dark Mana…”

The ultimate goal of the heretics is the recreation of the world.

By resurrecting the Evil God, their ultimate goal was to erase regrets of the past, the sorrow of lost memories, and start anew.

The weapon used by heretics with their absurd dreams was Dark Magic—a bizarre ammunition fueled by emotions as a medium.

The method of replenishing Dark Mana varied from person to person.

For some, it was murder.

For others, it was twisted justice.

And for others still, it was accumulated through envy and jealousy.

I don’t know what Olaf’s condition is, but one thing is certain: he didn’t come to the North without a reason. After all, he was someone who secluded himself among the heretics to train believers.

‘Still, there’s hope. Is this it…?’

I quietly closed my eyes and extended my sense perception. Then, I let out a hollow laugh.

“Ha…”

I couldn’t sense it.

Not a trace of anyone’s presence.

Nor the number of people inside.

I couldn’t extract even the slightest bit of information.

‘Is this the rank difference…?’

In the moment of hesitation, as my heart began to waver.

-Ding.

The one I didn’t want to appear was forcing my hand.

[Q. A name that can no longer be called.]

Somewhere in the North.

A young girl who lost her mother at an early age lived there. Lonely yet resilient.

Even when teased by other children saying, “She doesn’t have a mom,” the girl would shout back, “Well, your dad cheated!” as she bravely overcame her sadness with her father.

The girl hated the lonely and barren life in the North, but she was happy because she could be with her father.

Fishing on the ice.

Sleeping in her father’s arms.

Warming themselves by the fireplace together.

The girl was happy and content.

As she grew into an adult, the girl began to dream of one thing. A dream to succeed and let her father live comfortably.

She wished to stop gathering firewood and instead buy it, and she hoped her father wouldn’t have to work with aching shoulders.

To the girl, her father was someone the world couldn’t do without.

No one would know.

How much the girl loved her father. To her, her father was like a pillar.

If her father were to disappear, the girl would be deeply sorrowful. To the point of pouring out resentment on someone.

(!) Save Yuria’s father, ‘James’.

1. Rescue Yuria’s father, ‘James’. (0/1)

2. Survive against the Apostle of Mercy, ‘Olaf’. (0/1)

Reward: New Realm, Rehabilitation’s Touch Lv. 2

Failure: Yuria’s ‘Hatred’, Rehabilitation’s Touch ‘Annihilation’, James’s ‘Death’.

───────────

“I’m not even surprised anymore.”

I let out a dry laugh as I looked at the blue window. I had delayed too much, far too much.

Stretching, I listened to the stiffened sound of my heartbeat.

‘Can I win?’

-Thump. Thump.

‘It’ll be tough, won’t it?’

Still, what choice do I have? What can I even do?

When I can’t fix the Young Lady’s legs, and when a beautiful woman is crying, what can I do? Weak to the crying of a beauty, I let out a hollow laugh and gripped Tirbing.

‘Let’s go.’

Olaf’s mana didn’t seem abundant, so I thought I might have a chance. Whatever the case, I am a possessor, and there was no opponent I couldn’t defeat.

With a blank expression, I patted the head of the Young Lady, who was drinking milk, and smiled.

“Ugh… My hair’s getting tangled.”

“It’s fine. It’s not my hair.”

“Eeeek!”

In a calm voice, I spoke to the Young Lady.

“Young Lady.”

“Yes?”

“Could you wait here for a moment?”

The Young Lady tilted her head, a question mark appearing above her head.

“Why?”

“Hmm… I’m thinking of an excuse, so please wait.”

“I need to go to bed soon, so I can grow taller.”

“Pfft… Of course. But it seems the inn hasn’t been cleaned properly, so I’ll go help with that.”

At the Young Lady’s gaze, which seemed to ask why I was cleaning when I was paying to stay, I gave a small smile and gently pinched her cheek.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Eek… It’s cold.”

I left the Young Lady’s wheelchair far from the inn, crouched down, and said.

“I’ll be back soon.”

I headed toward the inn and softly called someone’s name, infusing it with mana.

‘Mr. Hans.’

I needed insurance, after all.

*

The inside of the inn was dark.

It was eerily quiet, and the tables were in chaos, as if a fierce struggle had taken place.

‘Squish.’ The damp floor clung to my shoes. Feeling the sticky texture and the familiar smell of the floor, I let out a bitter smile and muttered softly.

“So, the stories about you being a famous adventurer in your youth were true.”

Under the moonlight streaming through the window, the traces of battle were clearly visible.

Three corpses that seemed to be devotees.

One corpse that seemed to be inquisitor-level.

And the sword displayed on the first floor of the inn was nowhere to be seen.

James. No, it must have been Yuria’s father who did this.

With a pained smile, I followed the trail of the bloody battle, and before long, I stood before a bloodstain leading to the stairs.

It continued.

The blood, still wet, flowed from one person’s body and led up to the second floor.

Hesitating, I lifted my head and placed my foot on the stairs leading to the second floor. The eerie creak of the wooden steps echoed in my ears.

“This is intense.”

Slowly, I drew Tirbing, steeling my resolve. And at that moment.

-Crrrack….

Outside the window, an enormous something began to cast a shadow. It was grotesque to be called a person and too massive to be called a demonic beast, as it revealed itself, blocking the moonlight.

I smiled faintly and snapped my fingers.

-Snap.

Things seemed to be unfolding more easily than expected.

*

James clutched his abdomen and clenched his fist.

Pain that felt like it would burst.

Legs that had lost their strength.

Even standing was becoming impossible.

James let out a bitter laugh and muttered to himself.

‘This is ridiculous…’

Grinding his teeth, James replayed the events from earlier in his mind. He regretted opening the door to the kind-looking old man, realizing it was a mistake.

James gritted his teeth.

-I’ve come to share some good words.

-Ah, you’ve come as a group, I see.

-…

-How many rooms…

-…Please show mercy.

-Pardon?

-Grant a room to stay for a prophet with nowhere else to go.

-So, how many…

-Mercy… I said, show mercy.

James coughed up blood and struggled to breathe.

“Why are you doing this…”

He cried out in anguish, pleading with the ones who had assaulted him.

If they had just asked for money, he would have gladly given it. But why resort to violence? With trembling eyes, James looked at them, his confusion and resentment evident.

The believers, breathing heavily.

And the old man in a white linen robe, staring back at him with calm disdain.

“Why are you doing this! I’ll give you as much money as you want!”

The old man in the white linen robe took a step closer to James, wearing a benevolent smile.

-Click. Click. Click.

With his hands clasped together in a reverent posture, the old man began to speak.

“God does not desire money.”

“…What?”

“God merely wishes for His servants to act. To know His will and act upon it—that is faith.”

The old man, spouting incomprehensible words, stroked his short white beard and addressed James.

“Brother, you have questioned God’s will.”

The old man, whose body was far too robust to be called a cleric, looked at James with a pitiful gaze.

“Isn’t that so, Brother?”

“…Who are you people?”

“We are clerics who believe in God. Shepherds who spread doctrine and guide with pure faith.”

The old man reached out and brushed James’s chin with his hand. The calloused palm of the old man, rough and unyielding, sent a chill across James’s skin before withdrawing.

Removing his hand, the old man smiled in satisfaction and began preaching to James. Explaining why they had done this, what his sins were. He spoke calmly, with a reverent voice, directing his words at James.

“Heh heh… We asked you to show mercy, Brother.”

“And I said I’d give you money…!”

“God does not ask twice. The sheep need only listen to the shepherd’s voice and follow. A beast with self-awareness is unacceptable.”

The believers, listening intently to the old man’s words, kept their mouths shut and nodded in agreement. In the peculiar atmosphere, some pulled out pocket notebooks and began jotting things down busily. Alone in the room, James, his pupils trembling, didn’t know where to focus his gaze.

“I intended to use this humble inn today for prayer.”

“To hear God’s voice.”

“To make this inn a place where I could receive the strength to survive the trials that lie ahead. Do you understand?”

Olaf’s voice grew increasingly intense. His expression, as he glared at James, was filled with chilling emotions, reminiscent of the look Ricardo and Olivia had seen in the snowfield.

“I’m offering to make use of it, so why all the fuss?”

Olaf ended his sermon and began slashing his wrist, letting blood spill onto the floor.

As the dripping blood touched the ground, it sizzled, forming a utopian pattern.

The black magic circle slowly encircled James, drawing a perfect circle inch by inch.

And the moment the circle was complete.

“Gah…!”

James’s throat began to tighten.

“Gah… I can’t… breathe…!”

The pain of boiling blood and a heart on the verge of bursting overwhelmed James. His vision turned increasingly red, and his limbs began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Guh-huhk…! Cough…”

James, gasping for air, grabbed Olaf’s hand. Begging for his life, pleading desperately. He clung to Olaf’s hand, driven by the hope of seeing his daughter one last time in the fleeting memories flashing before his eyes.

“Save me…”

“…”

“Please save me… I have a daughter. A family…”

Olaf’s eyes landed on a small picture frame sitting on the desk.

A beautiful, graceful woman.

Olaf picked up the frame and smacked his lips.

“Hmm… If you offer this woman, I might reconsider.”

“What…?”

“She seems suitable as a plaything. Yes, I don’t think I’d grow tired of her.”

“You bastard…”

“How about it? I’ll give you one hour. Will you offer her? I’ll ensure she becomes a cherished lamb under the shepherd’s love.”

James, boiling with rage, lunged at Olaf.

“You son of a b*!”

In that instant, James saw something enormous.

Something massive staring at him from outside the window.

Too colossal to be called a demonic beast, too grotesque to be called a human.

It had the form of a horse.

-Clatter.

Overwhelmed by fear, James dropped the sword gripped in his hand. He had never seen such a creature in his life. It was as if all living beings had been grotesquely fused together.

Only now did James realize the purpose of the magic circle surrounding him.

‘Prey…’

Just as the overwhelming fear was about to strike James down.

-Flash.

Crimson lightning began to rain down on the colossal demonic beast’s head.

-Rumble…

It poured down relentlessly.

As James’s pain began to subside, a familiar young man’s voice echoed.

“Pick someone your own size. Filthily.”