The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

The lights were off.

Even though it was late at night.

Even though it was early morning.

The lights that were always on at the inn were now off.

Should I feel puzzled? Or should I just dismiss it? The sensation settling in wasn’t confusion but rather unease.

There was mana flowing from the inn. It wasn’t the kind of mana you’d expect from just any adventurer. It was powerful enough to be overwhelming, and eerie like that of a sorcerer.

Now I understand.

Why the lights of the inn are off.

Why the Apostle is in the North. It’s starting to make sense.

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

Reviving their dark god to erase regret from the past and sorrow from lost memories—this was the ultimate goal of their creed.

And the weapon used by such heretics is Dark Magic. An abnormal explosive power that uses emotions as fuel.

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

Some use murder.

Some use twisted notions of justice.

Others accumulate it through envy and jealousy.

I don’t know what Olaf’s conditions are, but one thing is clear: he didn’t come all the way to the North for no reason. He’s someone embedded deep in the heretic order, responsible for raising its believers.

Still, there is hope… Is that it?

I closed my eyes and spread my senses. Then, let out a hollow laugh.

“Sigh…”

I couldn’t sense anything.

There weren’t any signs of life.

Not a trace of the people inside.

I couldn’t gather any information at all.

‘Is this the difference in level…?’

Just as doubt began to seep into my mind, hesitating for a brief moment—

-Ding.

The thing I didn’t want to see was forcing me into a decision.

[Q. A Name That Can No Longer Be Called.]

Somewhere in the North.

There lived a girl who had lost her mother at a young age. Despite being lonely, she remained brave.

Even when other children teased her, saying, ‘She has no mom,’ she would shout back, ‘But your dad cheated on your mom!’ and bravely endured her sorrow with her father.

The girl disliked the lonely, barren life in the North. But she was happy, because she had her father with her.

Fishing together on the ice.

Sleeping in his arms.

Warming themselves by the fireplace.

The girl was happy. She loved it.

As the girl grew older, one dream started to blossom in her heart. She wanted to succeed, so she could provide her father with a comfortable life.

She dreamed of a day when she wouldn’t have to go out to gather firewood, and her father wouldn’t have to work with aching shoulders.

To the girl, her father was an irreplaceable existence.

No one will ever know.

How much the girl loves her father… For her, her father is like a pillar of the world.

If her father were to disappear, the girl would be devastated—so much that she might pour all her hatred onto someone else.

(!) Save Yuria’s father, ‘James.’

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

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

Reward: [New Realm], Hands of Restoration Lv. 2

Failure Penalty: Yuria’s ‘Hatred,’ Hands of Restoration ‘Destroyed,’ James’s ‘Death.’

───────────

“I’m not even surprised anymore.”

I let out a ridiculous laugh and looked up at the Blue Window. I had wasted too much time already.

Stretching my body, I listened to the stiff pounding of my heart.

‘Can I win?’

-Thunk. Thunk.

‘It’ll be tough, won’t it?’

But what can I do? What else can I do?

I can’t fix the lady’s legs. And if a pretty lady starts crying, what choice do I have? With a bitter smile, I grasped my weapon, Tirbing.

‘Let’s go.’

Olaf doesn’t seem to have much mana left, so I think I’ve got a fighting chance. After all, I’ve been possessed by a spirit, so there’s no opponent I can’t beat.

I smiled softly and ruffled the hair of the lady, who was still absentmindedly sipping milk.

“Ugh… Now my hair’s tangled.”

“It’s fine. It’s not my hair.”

“Iiik!”

In a calm voice, I spoke to her.

“My lady.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you wait here for a little while?”

The lady tilted her head in confusion, a question mark clearly forming in her expression.

“Why?”

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

“Hmph… I have to sleep soon, or I won’t grow tall.”

“Pfft… Of course. But it looks like the inn needs a bit more cleaning, so I’m going to help out.”

The lady gave me a look, as if asking why I was cleaning when we paid to stay here. I smiled softly and pinched her cheek.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“It’s cold…”

I carefully placed the lady’s wheelchair in a spot far from the inn and crouched down.

“I’ll be back soon.”

With that, I headed toward the inn. Quietly, I called out a name, infusing it with mana.

‘Hans.’

I needed backup.

*

The inside of the inn was dark.

It was eerily quiet, and the signs of a violent struggle were everywhere. The tables were upturned, lying in disarray.

‘Squelch.’

The wet floor held my shoes for a moment. The sticky sensation—and the unsettlingly familiar smell—made me chuckle bitterly.

“Heh. Guess he really was a top adventurer in his younger days.”

In the moonlight streaming through the windows, the traces of battle were all too clear.

Three bodies of people who appeared to be believers of the heretical cult.

One body, possibly an interrogator of sorts.

And the sword that had been displayed prominently on the first floor of the inn was missing.

James. No, Yuria’s father must have done this.

I wore a bitter smile as I followed the trail of the intense struggle, eventually arriving at a set of bloody footprints leading up the stairs.

The blood, fresh and still flowing from someone’s body, led up toward the second floor.

I hesitated for a moment, then lifted my head and placed my foot on the stairway. The eerie sound of creaking wood echoed in my ears as my foot pressed down.

“Spooky…”

I slowly drew Tirbing, bracing myself. And at that moment—

-Boom…

A massive shadow began to form outside the window. It was too monstrous to be human, and too enormous to be a beast. Whatever it was, it blocked out the moonlight, casting everything in darkness.

I smiled thinly and snapped my fingers.

-Snap.

It seemed like things might go easier than expected.

*

James clenched his fist, his hand pressing against his abdomen.

The pain was unbearable.

His legs were about to give out.

Standing was becoming impossible.

James let out a bitter laugh and muttered to himself.

‘This is ridiculous…’

James gritted his teeth as he replayed the events of a moment ago in his mind. He realized now how foolish it was to have opened the door to the kindly-looking old man.

James clenched his teeth.

-I’ve come to share some good teachings.

-Ah, so you’ve come as a group.

-…

-How many rooms would you like—

-Please…

-What?

-Please, show mercy to a prophet who has no place to go. Grant us lodging.

-So, how many—

-Show mercy… I said show mercy!

James coughed up blood, his breathing labored.

“Why… Why are you doing this…?”

With a voice filled with resentment, he seemed to plead to the attackers, questioning their violence.

If they had asked for money, he would have given it willingly. So why resort to such brutality?

James’s trembling eyes looked at the cult members, who were breathing heavily, and then at the elderly man in white robes.

“Why are you doing this? I’ll give you all the money you want…!”

The man in the white robe took slow, measured steps forward, wearing a benevolent smile.

-Tap. Tap. Tap.

With both hands clasped together piously, the old man opened his mouth to speak.

“God has no need for money.”

“…What?”

“God only desires that His followers act in faith. Understanding God’s will and carrying it out—that is true belief.”

The elderly man stroked his short, white beard and addressed James.

“You questioned God’s will, dear brother.”

The man, who was far too robust to be an ordinary priest, looked at James with what seemed to be pity in his eyes.

“Isn’t that so, brother?”

“…Who are you people?”

“We are priests who believe in God. Shepherds guiding the flock, spreading the doctrine, and leading others through righteous faith.”

The elderly man reached out and stroked James’s chin. The rough, callused hand brushed James’s skin coldly before withdrawing.

The old man, smiling in satisfaction, began to preach to James. He explained why they had done this, what James’s errors were. In a solemn voice, the old man spoke calmly.

“Ahem… We asked you for mercy, dear brother.”

“…And I offered money!”

“God doesn’t ask twice. The sheep simply need to hear the shepherd’s voice and follow. To allow a beast to have a mind of its own is unbearable.”

The cultists around James nodded silently, taking notes in a small notebook. The atmosphere was bizarre, and James’s pupils trembled as he struggled to focus on anything.

“I was planning to use this place for prayer today.”

“To hear God’s voice.”

“I wanted to use this inn to receive strength from God, so that I may survive the hardships yet to come. Do you understand?”

Olaf’s voice grew more agitated, much like the unsettling expression he had worn when Ricardo and Olivia first encountered him in the snowfields.

“I’m offering to put this place to good use, but you just won’t shut up.”

Olaf ended his sermon, slitting his own wrist and letting the blood drip onto the floor.

As the blood touched the ground, it began to etch a strange symbol, sizzling as it formed a pattern.

A dark magic circle slowly took shape around James, creating a perfect ring.

“Kuhk…!”

James’s throat suddenly began to tighten.

“Kuh… I-I can’t breathe!”

His blood boiled, and the pain in his chest felt like it was going to burst. His vision gradually began to turn red, and his limbs trembled uncontrollably.

“Ugh…! Cough…”

With a desperate gasp, James reached out and grabbed Olaf’s hand, pleading for mercy. Even as the memories of his life flashed before his eyes, all he wanted was to see his daughter’s face one last time.

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

Olaf’s attention shifted to a small picture frame on a nearby desk.

A stunningly beautiful woman.

Olaf picked up the frame and licked his lips.

“Hoho… If you offer her up, I might reconsider.”

“…What?”

“She looks quite suitable to play with. Hmm, yeah, I probably wouldn’t get bored anytime soon.”

“You son of a—!”

“How about it? I’ll give you one hour. Offer her up, and I’ll make sure she’s treated well as a beloved lamb in the shepherd’s care.”

With a burning rage, James lunged at Olaf.

“You piece of shit!!!”

At that moment, James caught sight of something massive through the window.

Something colossal, staring down at him from outside.

It was too large to be a beast, too grotesque to be human.

It looked like some sort of monstrous horse.

-Whirr.

Overcome with fear, James dropped the sword he was holding. Never before had he encountered such a terrifying creature. It was like an amalgamation of all living beings, a grotesque contradiction.

In that moment, James understood the purpose of the magic circle surrounding him.

‘Bait…’

Just as he realized this overwhelming truth, as terror clamped down on his throat—

-Boom.

A crimson lightning bolt crashed down on the head of the gigantic monster.

-Rumble, rumble…

The strike continued, one after another.

It rained down relentlessly.

Just then, as James’s pain was beginning to subside, he heard the familiar voice of a young man.

“Pick on someone your own size, you scumbag.”

End of Chapter.