I grabbed her chin and pressed down firmly, forcing her mouth open.
From the exposed roof of her mouth, I sensed a faintly coiled energy.
“What the—ugh, urk!”
As I gently scraped away the energy using divine power, black mana recoiled and shot out in protest.
A key, about the size of my middle finger, was drawn out from the roof of Qudil’s mouth.
It was an utterly grotesque sight.
There wasn’t any blood, but the visual itself was unsettling, and my hands felt unpleasantly grimy.
“...It’s not covered in spit, is it?”
I looked at the purple key with obvious distaste before tearing off a piece of Qudil’s shirt and vigorously wiping my hands.
At this rate, I really needed to start carrying a handkerchief.
“Hah... huff, ha... damn it... you found it.”
“Why the hell did you hide this in your mouth?”
“Ugh... well... if I embedded it under my skin, it would’ve been discovered too quickly...”
Then maybe she should have kept her mouth shut instead of showing off the inside of it so freely.
Unbelievable.
Qudil was nearly collapsing onto the ground, head bowed as she caught her breath, before slowly raising her face.
The blood vessels in her eyes had burst, turning the whites a ghastly red—she looked almost like a ghost.
Then she smirked.
“But tell me, priest, how did you know? Did His Highness tell you?”
“No. A prophecy book was offered at my god’s altar. I read it.”
“Well, I suppose that makes sense. Dragging the temple into this mess to catch the snake... His Highness has been rebellious lately.”
“If you weren’t going to listen, why ask?”
I had expected her not to believe me in the first place.
“What did His Highness whisper to you?”
“...What?”
“Judging by the density of your divine power, you seem like someone with good morals. So what exactly did he say to turn you into his obedient hound?”
Since nothing else was working, she was shifting tactics—trying to drive a wedge between us now.
“Did he tell you that you needed to eliminate a cult of demon worshippers? That destroying Morion would bring peace to the world? That it was for the sake of humanity?”
“Why don’t you—”
“You’ve been deceived.”
Qudil hissed like a snake.
“Look at His Highness’s actions. If he were truly devoted to justice, why would he grovel under the Grand Elder, wagging his tail like a trained dog?”
“......”
“And look at now. He dumped all the work on you and is nowhere to be seen. What do you think that means?”
“Just say what you want.”
“Don’t trust His Highness. His goal isn’t something as noble as peace.”
“Oh? Then what is it?”
“Well... probably Morion?”
I blinked slowly.
My mood was sinking.
“It’s power that makes anything possible. Swallow it, and you become a god—or rather, a demon. You really think that wouldn’t tempt him? You’re just being used to help him seize that power.”
“That’s it?”
“I can help you. I can figure out what His Highness is really planning, or even help you escape. If you just turn a blind eye for now—”
“Was that your last will and testament?”
Even if I lacked worldly experience, I wasn’t naïve enough to trust a Grand Elder’s words.
And more than anything, I believed that I knew Cruello better than this woman did.
Qudil slowly blinked.
Then, her lips twisted into a crooked sneer.
“Ah... this is why priests are so stupid. Even when you explain it to them, they don’t get it. So naïve and clueless.”
Her scathing insults didn’t even make me flinch.
She sighed lightly.
“Hey, kid. I didn’t mention this earlier, but I have another specialty. I’m quite skilled with small, intricate magic.”
“......”
“For example, I can temporarily break magical artifacts.”
At that moment, the carriage jolted.
The halted horses suddenly surged forward, shoving the carriage closer to the cliff’s edge.
Qudil let out a cackling laugh as she moved her hands.
Twisting her joints unnaturally, she slipped her hands free from the chains and seized my arm in a vice grip.
“Did you really think I’d just leave a magical artifact alone? I only played along because it seemed fun, but now I see it was a waste of time.”
“What, you planning to take me down with you? You’re not afraid to die anymore?”
“I’m going to die either way, so who cares? And besides, it doesn’t matter even if I do die.”
As if worried that I might try to break free and escape, Qudil’s arms tightened around me like a snare.
Meanwhile, the horses continued driving the carriage toward the abyss.
And finally, the carriage began to tilt.
“Because He will bring me back!”
With crazed eyes, Qudil let out a mad, triumphant laugh.
At last, the carriage was flung into the air.
However—
“AHAHAHA! HAHA—huh?”
We didn’t fall.
Qudil gaped in stunned silence.
“What? How is this...? There’s no flight spell in divine magic!”
“A well-made magical artifact is still functioning.”
A familiar voice called out from where the driver’s seat had been ripped away.
And given the timing, of course—it was him.
“Cruello...”
Qudil mumbled in disbelief.
At the same time, with a flick of Cruello’s hand, Qudil was slammed against the carriage wall.
She stuck there like an unappetizing pancake.
He turned toward me, now freed.
“Had enough fun, darling? I’m glad I arrived just in time.”
Just in time?
Did he seriously just say just in time?
“You’re late. Do you know how many minutes of mind-numbing conspiracy theories I had to sit through while waiting for you?”
“Well, I had to check out the ceremony venue properly. If something happened over there, I didn’t want to end up like a dog chasing a chicken.”
“Oh, the Tenth Elder should be there. He was communicating through the relay earlier.”
“That’s fine. He’s not the type to commit an assassination mid-ceremony. And if he does... well, that would just make for an entertaining show, wouldn’t it?”
Would he seriously find it amusing if the bride-to-be turned into a sacrificial straw doll?
...Actually, yeah. Probably.
Cruello casually flicked his fingers, and Qudil, still stuck to the wall, crashed onto the carriage floor.
I stepped closer and asked her:
“How much time is left on the dummy?”
“Ten.”
Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.
“Ten minutes?”
“Nine, eight—”
This bastard. Is he seriously joking around at a time like this?
I turned to glare at him in disbelief, only to find Cruello laughing outright.
“There should be about six minutes left before the magic breaks and the dummy turns back into straw.”
“...Did you deliberately take your time just so you could see that happen?”
“Of course not. Alright, fine, I’ll hurry.”
Cruello chuckled lightly and gestured with his hand.
Mana stretched out from Cruello’s fingertips, coiling around Qudil’s trembling body.
At the same time, her appearance began to shift.
Her short hair lengthened, turning into golden waves.
Her skeletal structure altered, her features rearranging themselves.
And the result—
A face that bore a striking resemblance to Siora Bonetti.
“Cough!”
Qudil, who had momentarily lost consciousness, jerked awake.
As golden locks tumbled before her eyes, she immediately grasped what had happened.
“Hah! So you’re disguising me as Siora Bonetti to have me killed?”
Her voice was unchanged, making the illusion all the more jarring.
“More accurately, we’re transforming you into bait so you can be killed.”
The plan was to frame Qudil for murdering a fake Siora Bonetti.
It might seem like a minor distinction, but there was a significant difference between Qudil being found as a corpse and simply disappearing.
At worst, others might assume that she had failed and fled.
It would only buy a little time, but that little bit could be crucial.
“You handle cleanup, right? I’ll leave this part to you, too.”
“What nonsense. There’s no transformation magic that lasts after death. Even a strong wind would undo it.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Reversing our previous positions, I seized Qudil’s wrist.
She stared at me with an expression of complete incomprehension.
Of course, she wouldn’t know.
There was no divine spell remotely similar to this.
But the followers of an ancient god had their own set of unique incantations.
The Reversal Rite I used during the Harvest Festival was one of them.
“Oh great and wise Pebula, your servant humbly beseeches you.”
“...Pebula?”
And this spell, too.
“Twist the grim truth that has solidified. Open a new path.”
The divine power slumbering in my soul broke through a fragile threshold and surged outward.
It wasn’t as overwhelming as before, but I had a strong feeling that my body would be in shambles tomorrow.
That was just the nature of unique invocations. They always left you longing for your original body.
“Grant the forsaken soul imprisoned in its mortal shell a single choice.”
“Guh—!”
The divine energy radiating from me wrapped evenly around Qudil’s body.
The black mana within her, unable to resist, disintegrated completely.
And it didn’t stop there.
The divine power followed the illusion cast over her, reconstructing Qudil’s body—
Until she was entirely someone else.
Even if her transformation spell were dispelled, her appearance would never revert.
“One devoted follower asks this of you.”
—Pebula's Ninth Theological Invocation: Modification.
Originally, this spell was used to heal incurable diseases or correct congenital deformities.
But right now, there was no benevolent intent behind it.
Even so, the spell flowed effortlessly from my lips.
After all, it was Pebula who had commanded me to do all of this—the hunt for the Elder Council included.
Unable to withstand the shock of losing her black mana, Qudil collapsed once more.
Or perhaps...
She was already dead.
I pulled the shackles from her body.
“Is it done?”
At Cruello’s question, I nodded slowly.
As I stood, he extended his hand toward me.
The moment I grasped it, we floated out of the carriage using levitation magic.
From high above, Cruello released his spell.
The carriage plummeted.
At first, it fell slowly.
Then faster.
Until it reached a speed beyond anything we could stop.
It disappeared into the abyss below.
I thought I heard a faint crash.
A person had just died.
The feeling was... strange.
“At this rate, the engagement ceremony will be over before we even get there.”
Ah.
This wasn’t the time to dwell on unnecessary thoughts.
I shook myself out of it and nodded.
“Let’s go quickly.”
Cruello studied me with a peculiar expression before opening a gate.
***
“...So that this union may be safely bound...”
The gate opened, and we arrived—
At the White Desert Duke’s chapel.
More precisely, on its roof.
Since my senses were heightened, I could clearly hear the monotonous droning of the officiant leading the ceremony.
We carefully descended onto the roof and peered inside through the window.
Although we had cast invisibility magic, we still had to be cautious—anyone highly attuned to mana might sense us.
“Oh, is that the dummy?”
Two figures stood before Count Goldenstove.
One unmistakably looked like Siora Bonetti.
The other was undoubtedly Cruello White Desert.
But in reality, those were mere straw dummies.
Fascinating. But how had they swapped them in?
“How much time is left?”
“Fifty seconds.”
“Oh, now it’s forty-nine!”
“Now forty-five?”
“So then... should we just give up?”
“If that’s what you want, darling.”