Chapter 114:The Cursed #2

The Lehern Count’s Detention Center.  

It was a living hell, where all manner of criminals were gathered.  

The windowless chamber reeked of decay, the suffocating air pressing down on his lungs. Not a single ray of light penetrated the darkness, rendering time a meaningless concept.  

Rats occasionally scurried across the floor, while distant sobs and screams made the space feel even more desolate.  

“Damn it…!”  

Cain Luhar bit his lip. When he opened his eyes, he found himself behind iron bars, completely unable to grasp the situation.  

“I can’t even use my power.”  

Chains suppressing mana coiled tightly around his body, preventing him from using his holy power. The power of the beast within him still responded, but he had no desire to use it.  

If he used the beast’s power, the curse would only accelerate.  

“This is… unbearably painful.”  

Cold sweat trickled down Cain’s temple. A searing pain, as if his bones were splintering apart, stabbed through his entire body. His muscles burned as if they were being torn apart, stretched to the point of snapping.  

Inside his veins, his blood roiled violently, as if ready to burst forth. Every breath he exhaled felt like his chest was being shredded by blades.  

“If only it weren’t for the curse of beastification.”  

There was only one reason Cain Luhar had been cursed.  

Revenge against the Empire.  

As a child, he had been a victim of the Empire’s war. His family and friends were slaughtered by imperial soldiers. The scene had been horrific—his village engulfed in flames, their food and supplies plundered.  

Cain had prayed. That those responsible would be punished. That the Empire that waged war would fall.  

But they were never punished. The Empire, victorious in war, flourished even more brilliantly. Their wealth grew, and history belonged to the victors, elevating their honor even further.  

And so, he needed power.  

Power strong enough to bring the Empire to ruin.  

Cain had already risen to become the Holy Nation’s strongest archbishop and was even a candidate for the next cardinal. But the Empire was too vast, too colossal for him to challenge. To exact his revenge, he needed even greater strength.  

That was why he had turned to forbidden magic.  

If he could seize the power of a transcendent being, then this small desire for revenge wouldn’t just be a futile struggle.  

But what was the result?  

A wretched curse in return.  

And now, just when he was about to break free, he had been captured by Francia Ferbache and thrown into prison.  

“Could this situation possibly get any worse?”  

Just as Cain clenched his eyes shut—  

Click. Click.  

Suddenly, the sound of heels tapping against the cold stone floor echoed from the end of the corridor. The steps were light, sharp, and deliberate.  

The approaching figure was a woman.  

“Cain Luhar.”  

A voice, as cold and sharp as a blade, sliced through the darkness. A familiar voice.  

Cain lifted his trembling gaze.  

There, standing with a chilling expression, was Francia Ferbache.  

“Lady Ferbache…!”  

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Cain’s lips. He desperately grasped the iron bars with his shackled hands and spoke urgently.  

“P-please! Use your power of purification on me! It’s not too late! If you use your power, I—”  

“Enough.”  

Francia’s quiet voice resounded within the cell.  

Firm and weighty, carrying no trace of sympathy.  

“Even with the future changed, you remain the same.”  

“What…?”  

“You haven’t changed at all since before I came back.”  

Cain stared at her blankly.  

In the dim light, her crimson eyes glowed with barely restrained fury.  

“Thank you… for staying the same, even after time has shifted.”  

“Because now, I don’t have to feel guilt, and my revenge is fully justified.”  

Without so much as a blink, Francia reached into her coat and drew a dagger.  

Fwoosh!  

The radiant blade of Gladius Luminis, imbued with the light of judgment, erupted in a brilliant glow.  

“Aaargh!”

Overwhelmed by pain, Cain thrashed violently.  

Clang!  

His shackled arms and legs writhed ceaselessly. A dark aura surged around him, screaming in agony.  

“Guh… What the hell…!”  

“This time, I will kill you for sure.”  

The tip of the dagger pointed directly at Cain.  

Vwoom!  

The light of judgment flared even stronger as it devoured the demonic energy. Though its power was not yet fully replenished, it was more than enough to end him now.  

Cain was bound by chains that suppressed his mana, and he had already exhausted most of his strength healing his previous wounds.  

“I’ll say it again. Fall into hell.”  

Vwoom—!  

Golden light burst from the blade’s tip, slashing through the air like a living serpent.  

As the radiant thorns of light pierced through Cain’s heart, the acrid scent of burning flesh filled the air, and thick, crimson blood dripped onto the floor.  

“Kuh…!”  

Blood gushed from Cain’s mouth, spilling uncontrollably.  

Though he had become something inhuman, the blood that flowed from his wounds was unmistakably that of a man. His screams were swallowed by the blinding radiance, fading into silence.  

“Khugh… Fran…!”  

With trembling eyes, Cain looked up at Francia.  

Her face was devoid of any expression. She simply watched him die, her gaze as cold as ice.  

“Curse…”  

His eyelids grew heavy.  

He wanted to curse her one last time, but his lips refused to move.  

The light of judgment had burned away the last embers of his life, severing the demonic force that had barely kept him alive.  

Thud.  

Cain’s head hit the ground. It was cold.  

He couldn’t tell if it was the lingering winter chill in the air or the fading warmth of his own life that made it feel so icy.  

His vision darkened.  

“Don’t rest in peace, even in death.”  

Whoosh.  

Without a second glance at his lifeless body, Francia turned and walked out of the prison.  

The hour was late, and no one was awake to witness the end.

*    *    *   

The next day.  

The Lehern Count’s estate was in an uproar.  

“Someone has assassinated Archbishop Cain.”  

Because overnight, the one who should have been quietly locked up in prison was dead.  

“That heretic?”  

“But why?”  

“What in the world is happening…?”  

Discussions about him continued among the knights and the Holy Kingdom’s reinforcements.  

Yohan was bewildered but forced himself to stay calm as he asked Lante.  

“Is there a possibility that he took his own life?”  

“No. There was a wound piercing through his heart.”  

“So he didn’t die for the sake of honor.”  

Lante let out a small sigh before continuing.  

“If he had simply stopped breathing, it could have been the effect of the curse.  

But if he was killed by a wound through the heart, then it’s highly likely that someone murdered him.”  

It wasn’t certain, but Lante could tell.  

This case was a homicide.  

“Hmm.”  

Yohan tapped the table with his fingertips.  

“What about the guards who were watching the prison?”  

“They said no one passed through.”  

Lante continued his explanation.  

“At first, I thought the guards might have dozed off or been distracted and missed something…  

But since neither the other guards nor the supervisors saw an intruder,  

it seems the culprit had a remarkable stealth ability.”  

Not a single guard or warden had noticed the intrusion.  

Even if they were ordinary soldiers, deceiving all of them didn’t make sense.  

Yet, someone had killed Archbishop Cain and slipped away unnoticed.  

Which meant…  

“A first-class, or even higher.”  

“…”  

Yohan’s eyes narrowed.  

Was there someone with such stealth abilities here?  

Unlikely.  

After reviewing the knights’ abilities and backgrounds,  

none were found to have stealth skills.  

“That means they came from outside.”  

But why?  

Could it have been an intrusion by a high-level magic practitioner?  

That would be a problem in itself.  

It would mean this was connected to those who walked the path of magic.  

“Troublesome.”  

In truth, Cain Luhar’s death wasn’t a huge issue.  

Everyone here knew he was cursed with demonization.  

His execution had already been confirmed.  

The only concern was that an archbishop of the Holy Kingdom had died within the Empire.  

Even so, it wasn’t a serious problem.  

The Saint and the Holy Knights’ commander had already accepted the situation.  

What could they do about it?  

“I’ve realized it!”  

Arbella, who had been silently listening, suddenly stood up.  

Her soft voice filled the Count’s estate.  

“Archbishop Cain…! No, that cursed man was assassinated for one reason!  

It was the magic practitioners!  

They snuck in and killed him to erase any traces leading back to them!”  

Yohan nodded.  

“I see it that way as well.  

None of the knights from the Purification Bureau or the Holy Kingdom’s reinforcements  

possessed such stealth abilities.”  

Arbella blinked.  

Her large eyes gazed steadily at Yohan.  

“…Is that so?”  

“Yes.”  

“…”  

At a loss for words, she quietly sat back down.  

No further discussion followed.  

“I should report this to Count Lehern first.”  

Yohan rose from the sofa.  

“We still have two more demon lairs to close.  

I’ll take care of this matter, so all of you should rest.  

We’ll discuss things with the Holy Kingdom later.”  

“Yes, Your Holiness…!”  

Lante’s gaze was filled with admiration.  

To shoulder such a troublesome matter alone while worrying for his followers…  

How benevolent he was!

“As expected of the Saint.”  

“He remains calm even in this situation.”  

“The Saint personally sent by Lady Freyja…!”  

The other Holy Knights and priests were no different.  

Archbishop Cain’s death had already been pushed to the background.  

“…”  

Yohan quietly moved away, deliberately ignoring their burdensome gazes.  

By now, he was used to it.

*    *    *

“─So that’s how it happened.”  

Slurp.  

Inside the count’s office.  

Yohan tilted his teacup.  

“Hmm…”  

Count Lehern furrowed his brows, deep in thought.  

Understandable.  

After all, such a major incident had occurred—not just anywhere, but inside the prison itself.  

“I’ve confirmed the situation. But I can’t handle this alone. I’ll contact the central authorities and investigate whether this is connected to magic practitioners. In the process, we’ll also track down the culprit.”  

“Sounds good.”  

Yohan nodded.  

In the end, he was pushing the task onto someone else,  

but leaving it to Count Lehern was the best option.  

He needed to move on and seal the next demon lair.  

“Is there anything else you’d like to say?”  

“No.”  

Clink.  

Yohan set down his teacup and stood up.  

“I’ll leave this matter in your hands.”  

“Yes, you can count on me.”  

With Count Lehern’s assurance, Yohan left the office.  

As he descended to the lobby under the guidance of a servant,  

he spotted Francia staring off into the distance.  

“Francia?”  

“Ah, Yohan.”  

She beamed and rushed over in a single step.  

“Are you done with your work?”  

“Finished. Though I passed it off since things were getting complicated.”  

“Hehe, well done.”  

Between the remaining wandering demon beasts and the investigation of this incident,  

even two bodies wouldn’t be enough to handle everything.  

“You must be exhausted. Take it easy and rest.”  

They had three days to stay in the count’s territory before setting off to close the next demon lair.  

It would be best to spend that time with Francia.  

Yohan agreed without hesitation.  

“Sounds good. I’ll spend my entire break with you.”  

“Hehe, I like that!”  

Francia’s lips curled into a smile.  

He wouldn’t have to fight anyone from now on.  

Because she would kill them all.

*    *    *

Early morning.  

Rudbeckia opened her eyes.  

The bed, draped with curtains, and the faint aroma surrounding her created a soothing embrace. The glow of the fireplace flickered gently in the quiet of dawn.  

“Ah…”  

Her voice wasn’t hoarse. There was no pain. Maintaining her composure, Rudbeckia rose from the bed. As she gazed into the small mirror on the table, the mercury-like reflection stared back at her.  

A youthful face reminiscent of her maiden years, delicate hands unscathed by wounds. Skin once again vibrant and smooth. Silky hair flowing like fine silk.  

“I’m back.”  

Everything was just as it had been in the past.