My Body Has Been Possessed By Someone - Chapter 163

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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 163
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After striking down Orsini, I left the inn immediately.
‘It’s finally over.’
I had poisoned Orsini.
I was confident it would succeed. After all, I knew he couldn’t refuse me.
‘I consumed the antidote beforehand, so I’m unaffected, but he….’
He would die.
Suddenly, my footsteps halted.
That was strange. Why did I just stop?
What did it matter if he died?
I resumed walking shortly after.
‘Well, he might survive.’
Just as the sleeping draught hadn’t worked on Silvien Valentino, the poison might not be fully effective on him either. So there was a fifty percent chance he would live.
Perhaps one day I would regret not ensuring Orsini’s death completely.
I recalled the childhood years I spent with him.
“Filth like you deserves to die!”
Orsini, who had grabbed me as I fled and struck me down.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Orsini, please don’t hit me. I apologize.”
Back then, I had been so terrified of Orsini.
I let out a cold laugh. That Orsini had transformed into a mere dog.
Especially today’s Orsini was so pathetic—it was like watching a comedy unfold.
I looked down at my own hand. That fool couldn’t even grip it properly.
He had handled it as carefully and sorrowfully as one would touch a glass flower on the verge of shattering.
‘He must have noticed.’
From the moment I took his hand first, he would have sensed my scheme. Yet he didn’t let go.
How utterly foolish.
Even the great Orsini was being destroyed by a woman.
And by a woman he had once despised, one he even believed was his sister. Both Orsini and Kalen were truly idiots.
‘It’s all over now.’
I sighed and sat on a bench in the park. From my bag, I withdrew a red leather card case containing papers inscribed with ancient alchemical ritual circles.
I selected two cards and drew them out.
One of them conjured a powerful gust of wind.
The other created sharp shards of ice.
Using both simultaneously would allow the ice shards to rush forth like arrows.
‘But I don’t want to kill anyone anymore.’
I lifted my head with melancholic eyes.
The figure who had been trailing me all this time finally revealed itself. A black cloak fluttered in the wind.
“…I had a feeling.”
I furrowed my brow.
Just now, that voice.
“So it was you after all.”
That voice.
I’d heard it somewhere before.
No, but that shouldn’t be possible….
“Daughter of the Divine Spirit, Kanna Adis.”
The Unknown Man raised his hand and slowly pulled down the hood he’d been wearing deep over his head.
In that instant, upon seeing the man’s face, I nearly cried out.
It was a familiar face.
“…How are you…?”
Scenes flashed through my mind in rapid succession.
Paeylon Island. Madness. Rye bread. Rachel. Burning at the stake.
And.
“Jerome?”
Rachel’s escort knight, a Black Apostle, and the man who died by Raphael’s hand.
That man was standing before me.
But hadn’t he clearly died?
I witnessed with my own eyes Raphael’s hand piercing through his abdomen!
Then Jerome smiled faintly.
“This is our first meeting like this, Kanna Adis.”
“…What?”
“It’s an honor to meet you.”
First meeting? I stared blankly at his face. First meeting—what did that even mean…?
‘Ah, could it be.’
In that moment, I understood everything. Realization flooded in like the tide.
That’s it. That’s what happened.
“What I met was your puppet.”
“Precisely.”
What I’d encountered on Paeylon Island, what died by Raphael’s hand—it was a puppet.
Just as my own puppet had deceived Kalen, Claude, and everyone else, Jerome had done the same.
‘It was a puppet all along.’
Chills ran down my spine. I hadn’t noticed. I’d sensed nothing amiss.
But how?
Creating puppets was among the highest techniques of ancient alchemy. Yet was there truly another person in this world capable of using ancient alchemy besides myself?
“It’s truly a coincidence. I never expected you to be here, Kanna Adis.”
Jerome spoke with a composed smile. The man before me differed from the Jerome in my memory. He was more courteous than that puppet, far more refined.
“The goddess of fortune seems to have favored me.”
“Did you want to meet me?”
“Of course. It was I who instructed my puppet to bring you somewhere back then.”
That was right. Back then, Jerome had tried to lead me somewhere.
However, he fell unconscious from my self-defense drug, and when he awoke again, he was dead by Raphael’s hand.
“Unfortunately, the Divine Spirit’s successor interfered, but….”
I narrowed my brows. What did this man just say?
“Who interfered?”
“The Divine Spirit’s successor. The defrocked priest pursuing you.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
Raphael being the Divine Spirit’s successor—it was absurd.
My mood soured at his ridiculous words.
“You weren’t there. What makes you think you know anything?”
“I was connected to my puppet. What the puppet saw, I could see as well.”
….
I was left speechless.
In fact, according to ancient alchemical texts, a sufficiently well-crafted puppet could maintain a connection with its creator.
However, I could not create puppets of such ‘quality’.
‘Who on earth is he?’
Who could create puppets of such caliber?
‘No, wait.’
But if Jerome’s words were true.
If he was connected to the puppet and witnessed Raphael kill it.
And if Raphael truly was the Divine Spirit’s successor.
‘Wait, just wait.’
My head spun dizzily.
Then what was Raphael’s relationship to the Divine Spirit—my biological father?
In the Grand Temple where only consanguineous marriage was permitted, if he were the successor to the Divine Spirit who led that organization, he would likely be a direct descendant.
‘If that’s the case, then Raphael and I….’
A sharp shock pierced through my skull in that instant. My mind went white, but I clenched my teeth and forced myself to focus.
No, not now. Now is not the time. I need to concentrate on what’s before me.
I forcibly suppressed all the shock and glared at him.
“So, why did you want to see me? What’s your business?”
“My business.”
The corners of Jerome’s mouth lifted. His face was filled with deep satisfaction.
“Will you come with me?”
“Why would I?”
“I am a Black Apostle.”
“I know.”
“You are also a Black Apostle.”
I stared at him with an expressionless face.
Black Apostles. Members of that organization known to worship the Black Mist. But.
‘Me, a Black Apostle?’
It was the closest thing to nonsense I’d heard in my life. I didn’t even feel it worthy of a response.
At that moment, Jerome suddenly asked.
“Do you know the origin of alchemy?”
What nonsense is this now?
Kanna Adis scowled irritably, but he pressed on without hesitation.
“Alchemy, though it bears that name, is actually something far more magnificent—a most wondrous art that transforms the essence of matter and creates anew.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is not a power of this world. It is the power and knowledge of another realm.”
“I know. Why are you telling me this now?”
“Do you truly believe there would be no consequences to dragging something from another world into this one?”
I couldn’t fathom what he was saying.
Yet one thing was certain—it felt ominous. I didn’t want to hear this.
It felt as though something terrifying was about to be revealed.
“When you forcibly pull something from another world, this world sustains damage. Cracks form, spreading like fissures.”
“…And?”
“Foreign matter seeps through those cracks. Sometimes things from other worlds spill through. One such phenomenon is what we call the Black Mist.”
Kanna Adis bit her lip hard. Jerome continued his measured explanation.
“In other words, each time alchemy is performed, the world’s fractures multiply. The Black Mist flows through those rifts.”
Such an inconvenient truth.
“The Black Apostles, known to revere the Black Mist—they are all alchemists.”
Jerome smiled broadly and pointed at her.
“Just like you.”
Damn. The curse crumbled in my mouth.
Kanna Adis clenched her fists tight. She glared at Jerome as though she could kill him with her eyes alone. Yet no words came.
“In that sense, Kanna Adis, you could be called the strongest of the Black Apostles in existence today.”
Jerome knelt at Kanna Adis’s feet, gazing up at her with reverent eyes.
“You inherited your mother’s blood, so you must possess her talents. She too was a Black Apostle.”
Ah, Mother.
“It was Seon-hee who created my puppet.”
Mother.
Mother, Mother.
Kanna Adis exhaled slowly. A dull, throbbing pain pressed down on her head.
Yet she was no longer particularly shocked.
Each revelation about Seon-hee had once struck like a blow, but now it only left her hollow and bewildered.
“What benefit would I gain from following you?”
“We possess vast alchemical archives.”
Jerome spoke hurriedly, wondering if he had caught my interest.
“Most alchemists cannot draw out the power of mana stones. So we sought alternatives. And we succeeded. We discovered how to find and use different energies instead of mana stones.”
His eyes began to burn with frenzied fervor.
“After endless research, we have developed techniques that will astound the world. If you join us, I will share all our knowledge.”
“And?”
“Pardon?”
“Surely this isn’t free, is it? You must want something from me.”
I had a rough sense of what they desired.
“You want my blood?”
In that instant, undisguised hunger flickered across Jerome’s face. I let out a soft laugh.
“What if I refuse?”
Jerome’s eyes darkened at those words. Yet as if the answer were already predetermined, he spoke without hesitation.
“Then I would have no choice but to take you by force, however discourteous that may be.”
“Fortunately, that won’t be necessary.”
I rose from my seat.
“I needed a faction willing to accept me as well.”
“…Is that truly so?”
“Yes. I had nowhere else to go anyway. As you know, I’m supposed to be dead.”
Of course, that was a lie.
Since they would drag me along by force if I refused, I intended to feign compliance and lower their guard for now.
Then I would kill them.
Perhaps Mother had done the same.
Now I could begin to understand, one by one, the audacious moves Seon-hee had made in this place.
‘I have to kill them. There’s no other way.’
Jerome was shocked to see me. That meant he hadn’t known I was alive.
If I let Jerome leave, the Black Apostles might track me down.
Those alchemists obsessed with their craft would never abandon her golden blood.
‘Now that I no longer have Adis as a shield.’
I gripped the card inscribed with the spell formation in my palm. The moment I was about to prick my finger on its edge to draw blood—
“…!”
Jerome inhaled sharply and stumbled backward. Had he sensed I was about to attack with alchemy?
No, that wasn’t it.
Jerome’s gaze was fixed beyond me.
Behind me.
‘Someone’s there?’
Someone who had tensed Jerome in an instant stood behind me. I slowly turned around.
A man stood there.
A man who should not have been here.

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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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