Isn’t Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? - Chapter 145

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 145
A pristine white radiance poured forth from Deborah Simour’s body, enveloping Isidore’s frame—now discolored blue by poison—like warm water. His shattered ribs and damaged organs regenerated in an instant, and the flesh and blood that had begun to rot from the toxin were restored as though time itself had been reversed.
Not content with merely anchoring the lifeline of one on the brink of death, the pure and luminous light flowing from her center spread outward in concentric circles toward the black miasma.
“Grrrraaaaahhh….”
The spectral creature’s ferocity, baring yellowed teeth as it thrashed about, diminished in an instant. The dark miasma that had hung thick as black fog began to dissipate rapidly.
“What is this?”
As the salvific light passed and the dim vision gradually brightened, those engaged with the monsters exchanged astonished glances before swiftly slaughtering the visibly weakened skeletal specters. The situation that had forced our forces into a defensive position—as the magical energy grew stronger from the blood spilled by the creatures—was reversed in a single breath by that radiance.
Meanwhile, Duke Simour, recognizing that the situation was being resolved by a powerful holy force, scanned his surroundings in search of Deborah.
‘Please, let her be unharmed.’
Because of himself coughing blood moments ago, his daughter had been unable to evacuate from this chaos. Perhaps it would have been better to abandon all dignity and flee together.
‘I’ve never had such thoughts before.’
He had believed he must fulfill his responsibilities befitting his position as Master of the Magic Tower, but belated regret now overwhelmed him. Searching through the devastated surroundings with an anguished heart, Duke Simour discovered his daughter huddled beneath the altar, where black blood dripped incessantly.
‘What is that?’
Observing her surrounded by a faint luminescence, the Duke furrowed his brow.
‘Am I seeing things?’
But it was no illusion. As he closed the distance to his daughter, the lacerations on his hand healed instantly. I have never witnessed wounds closing at such a distance. Could it be that the white light from moments ago was also created by Deborah….
“Deborah!”
His thoughts could not continue. His daughter’s condition was far from normal. Though she radiated a formidable holy power, her own face was flushed crimson with burst capillaries, trembling violently.
“Hngh.”
Deborah Simour, still pressing her hand against Isidore’s now-healed wound, stifled a cry. Her power had surged all at once, and the flood of memories rising to the surface was beginning to strain her mind.
Moreover, she now possessed fragments of memories that the pre-possession Deborah had carried. The collision of countless memories and images caused her temples to throb as though cut by a blade.
Trembling in agony, her body curled inward, Deborah suddenly clenched her teeth and, as if to verify something, slowly brought her ear toward Isidore’s heart.
‘He’s alive.’
Even amid the agony of her mind threatening to burst, joy and elation welled up within her.
Life is truly strange. Even when suffocating darkness draws near, light exists beyond it. Moments ago there was only sorrow and despair. Thump-thump—his heart beat as proof that he lived.
The instant Deborah confirmed that Isidore was breathing, however faintly, she released the consciousness she had barely maintained and lost herself to oblivion.
* * *
‘To think such a terrifying monster would appear. Blessed Goddess.’
Cardinal Matteo, who had participated in the incense ceremony, trembled before the ruined altar.
Despite having come as the Pope’s representative, he could do nothing but hide, consumed by fear. As he offered prayers with a pallid face, excited voices echoed from afar.
“What on earth was that white light?”
“That sacred radiance repelled the shadowy darkness!”
Those who had struggled fiercely against the cruel specter in the darkness spoke ceaselessly of that warm, pristine light that had erupted during the battle.
“It was such noble holy power. It felt entirely different from the healing I have received from priests until now.”
As Cardinal Matteo listened to their conversation, a high-ranking Imperial Administrator who had arrived belatedly to investigate the rift approached.
“Cardinal Matteo. The nobles have reported that a powerful holy force led the battle against the monsters to victory. Was this your doing, Your Eminence?”
Cardinal Matteo shook his head.
“My holy power is not of such purity. I have never before encountered holy power of the caliber witnessed in today’s battle.”
“Then who on earth wielded such holy power?”
It was then that footsteps sounded, and someone stepped forward before the gathered crowd.
“I did it.”
The moment an entirely unexpected figure appeared, everyone in the hall began murmuring, and surprise flickered across the Cardinal’s face.
“Judging by your attire, you’re a Priest. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
“Who might you be? Please introduce yourself.”
“My name is Miya Binoshu.”
She spoke.
“This student ranked second in the Academy this term. Even the Archbishop praised Miya’s exceptionally pure divine power.”
The Cardinal began lavishing praise upon her. Though Miya was still attending the Academy, technically speaking, she had participated today as a member of the Central Temple. At such a noble celebration, and during the incense ceremony no less, when a terrifying demon appeared, it would have been a tremendous loss of face for the Temple to remain inactive while the Visconti and Simour families took all the credit.
Yet in the midst of nearly being humiliated, Miya had displayed her divine power so magnificently!
“You did it?”
At that moment, the Crown Prince, who had been checking the extent of the damage, interjected while swallowing down a nagging suspicion.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
‘Something’s off. That’s strange.’
The brilliant white light had clearly emanated from where Deborah Simour and Isidore stood. Though the black fog had obscured his vision, the Crown Prince, being a Sword Master, did not rely solely on sight to discern an opponent’s identity, so there was no way he could be mistaken.
‘But Deborah Simour has no divine power…’
Nobles were examined for divine power at birth, and if the lady possessed it, most would already know.
‘Did I misread the situation? Or is this woman lying?’
The Crown Prince observed the woman intently, and she flinched, her small shoulders trembling with fear. Seeing Miya shaking so visibly, the Cardinal hurried forward urgently.
“Your Highness. The purity of Miya’s divine power ranks among the highest in the Academy’s history. It rivals that of Saint Naila herself.”
“I pushed myself too hard…”
Miya murmured softly, swaying on her feet, and the Cardinal quickly steadied her ashen form.
“It appears Miya has expended far too much of her strength today.”
“Your Highness. Perhaps we should first attend to this Priest’s health?”
At the Imperial Administrator’s suggestion, the Crown Prince reluctantly nodded. Yet he remained unable to shake his suspicion as he watched the woman and the Priests depart, before turning his attention to a retainer who came rushing up breathlessly.
“Your Highness. I bring a report on the damage assessment.”
“Any fatalities?”
“Fortunately, none, thanks to that sacred light’s intervention. However, there are quite a few injured among those trampled in the panicked crowd. The Temple says they will dispatch additional Priests to tend to them.”
“I see. Well… that’s a relief, at least.”
Yet the Crown Prince’s voice was utterly devoid of strength.
‘I wanted this event to end successfully.’
Another demon, of all things.
‘What on earth is the reason behind this?’
The Crown Prince closed his eyes tightly, his expression one of despair.
* * *
“Hah, gasp!”
Breathing heavily, Isidore ran his hands over his shattered ribcage as he pushed his upper body upright, his eyes darting frantically about the unfamiliar room. He found himself lying alone on a bed in a place he had never seen before.
“You’re awake? Duke Visconti.”
A servant bowed as he spoke, and Isidore raised his stern brows.
“Who are you?”
“I am a servant of the Simour Family. The head of the household has ordered me to look after Duke Visconti’s condition.”
“Where is Deborah Simour?”
“She is currently indisposed and resting.”
‘Could it be because of me?’
Before losing consciousness, I remember the warm light that flowed from Deborah enveloping my body.
“Could I see Deborah Simour from a distance? I won’t disturb her. I simply wish to confirm she is well.”
“Before that, wouldn’t you speak with me for a moment? Duke Visconti.”
At the appearance of my father-in-law—no, Duke Simour—Isidore hastily descended from the bed.
Shortly after.
Duke Simour sat awkwardly across from Isidore, who had dressed hastily, at the Reception Room table.
‘This man… a Sword Master, they say.’
Truthfully, he was nothing short of the perfect son-in-law, but knowing something intellectually and accepting it in one’s heart were entirely different matters. Duke Simour opened his mouth with a somewhat sullen expression.
“How is your condition?”
“Deborah Simour saved my life. I shall live forever grateful for that grace, carrying it inscribed upon my heart.”
“Was it only your life? She saved everyone in that place from the phantom army. That holy power was worthy of the title Saint.”
“It was a noble power befitting the beautiful and wise lady.”
“Indeed, indeed.”
Just as the two taciturn men were unexpectedly conversing with enthusiasm, the Duke’s Aide approached and whispered—the source of the holy power that erupted from the Fragrant Flower Ceremony had appeared.
“Miya? Who is that?”
Upon hearing that this Binoshu woman had claimed credit for his daughter’s accomplishment and declared herself a Saint, the Duke’s face flushed crimson with rage.
“How dare this wretch steal the lady’s achievement and presume to be a Saint?!”
“I shall issue an edict immediately in the name of House Simour to have her executed.”
As both men burned with profound fury, a presence was felt at the doorway.
“Gentlemen, why do you discuss my affairs without me?”
“….”
At Deborah’s entrance, Isidore’s eyes widened with joy and tenderness. She pulled over a chair and sat between them. Then she picked up one of the decorative chess pieces and smiled faintly.
“This is fortunate.”
“Fortunate how?”
“It is better to conceal the fact that I possess holy power for now.”
“You mean to hide your achievement?”
“Yes. I shall allow Miya Binoshu to play the role of Saint for the time being.”
A bait for checkmate. That was Miya Binoshu’s role.
“Father mentioned recently that there was an incident involving the abduction of newborns. Yet coincidentally, during the period when Black Mages were searching frantically for babies with holy power to test their strength, I awakened my own holy power.”
“…!”
“Given the suspicious movements of Black Mages seeking a Saint, it would be unwise to expose myself as the central figure in this incident.”
Particularly, she was most troubled by the fact that cracks—something that never occurred in the novel—had manifested in reality.
“And this is merely a precaution, but if the cracks are not merely a phenomenon but rather an intentional event orchestrated by some organization or individual like the Black Mages, we cannot act rashly until we uncover the mastermind. The opponent is powerful enough to summon high-level demons. If I become their target, it will only invite trouble.”
Admiration gleamed in the Duke’s eyes at his daughter’s prudent move.
“But Deborah, are you truly willing to conceal your achievement for a time while we uncover the mastermind?”
It is human nature to covet immediate glory, and especially for his daughter, who bore a poor reputation, he would have expected her to wish to rehabilitate her image. Yet she chose to step back.
‘…Should I entrust the position of family head to my daughter?’
“Deborah Simour. Wouldn’t you say the true hero is you?”
“It pains me that only I know how deeply compassionate you truly are. Of course, everything will eventually find its proper place.”
“…It’s easier and better this way, being seen as a villainess.”
The lady murmured softly to herself. It was a thought they could never comprehend.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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