My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 104

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Jeremiah didn’t know why the Emperor had spared Tenebray’s life. It would be rather strange to run to Grandmother and ask ‘Why didn’t you kill my younger sibling?’

“When Azazel stabbed my stomach, he guessed where the tattoo remained and stabbed accordingly.”

At that moment, Jeremiah truly realized that Tenebray had betrayed him. Azazel must have heard from Tenebray where the mark was located on Jeremiah’s stomach.

“He stabbed the stomach so no one could distinguish who had died.”

Jeremiah nodded as if agreeing. Whether phantom pain remained, it still felt like a blade was piercing his stomach.

“Stealing my name… Was Tenebray envious of me?”

Jeremiah had a habit of asking questions even when he already knew the answer.

***

As if proving that twins were ominous, the patricidal villain Tenebray had returned as a corpse. Unfortunately, it was Gabriel who had transported the body. People whispered that the knight, mad with love, had abandoned his beliefs and drawn his sword to kill a young girl in order to free the witch he adored from prison.

After taking a sip of tea, they would talk about how unsightly and wicked the dead Tenebray had been compared to Jeremiah.

While the outside world was so noisy, the Temple was shrouded in deeper silence than ever. After the Sorcery Sect revealed itself again at the Crown Prince’s banquet hall, the Temple had tensed up and cowered.

The priests seemed to be watching the situation carefully, gauging Bishop Marik’s mood at the news that the sorcerers had shown themselves again.

Thanks to this, Saraka was staying in the quietest place in the Temple.

“Bishop. Here is today’s meal.”

“Thank you.”

Bishop Marik showed no luxury whatsoever in his eating and living. Bishop Marik’s quarters were so plain that one would believe a common priest lived there rather than a bishop. The same went for his food. The meals given to Bishop Marik were also modest.

Saraka took only one bowl of soup and bread. This was sufficient for today’s meal.

Saraka headed underground, carrying a candlestick and the food. In Bishop Marik’s modest room, there was a basement that others didn’t know about. Even the devout priest who tortured and killed heretics while feeling no guilt, claiming it was merely God’s will, had things to do hidden from God’s eyes.

The deeper she went, the more musty mold smell there was.

Saraka reached the bottom of the stairs, checked that nothing had changed inside the basement, set down the candlestick and food, and lit the brazier.

As the sun-like fire blazed brightly, warmth finally filled the underground space.

“Ugh… mmm…”

Saraka heard a voice speaking to her and smiled brightly.

“You’re awake. Bishop.”

What lay on the bed would be better described as ‘alive’ rather than ‘awake.’ If anyone other than Saraka had seen it, they would have screamed ‘He’s alive!’ and fled.

Bedsores had formed on his body from briefly leaving his post to stay by Tenebray’s side. Pus flowed from his face and body, scarred by burns. Despite facing someone who embodied everything unpleasant – sickly appearance, the smell of becoming a corpse, rattling breath sounds – Saraka didn’t even blink.

That was because the person before her was none other than Bishop Marik, whom Saraka respected like a teacher, loved like a lover, and trusted and followed like a parent.

“Looking so hideous…”

Who would believe this was Bishop Marik? Thinking this, Saraka praised the Bishop’s foresight in creating someone to replace ‘Bishop Marik’ in anticipation of the future. Of course, that person to replace Bishop Marik was Saraka herself.

This basement, now used for caring for the Bishop, was Saraka’s hometown and where she had grown up.

Saraka was originally a sorcerer’s daughter. Saraka’s parents were killed before her eyes by Bishop Marik. Her mother’s heart was pierced, and her father died unable to endure the torture. Only Saraka survived alone.

“The heretic’s child receives God’s love. Be grateful to the Sun God. He has spared your life.”

But Saraka had a constitution that responded much better to holy water than others. Bishop Marik discovered this fact while torturing the child and spared Saraka’s life.

Bishop Marik initially intended to send Saraka to the Sanctuary Nursery, but worried that Saraka, being a heretic’s child, might corrupt the other children, he decided she needed sufficient education first and locked Saraka in the basement. In the basement, Saraka learned as naturally as breathing that she was dirty for being a heretic’s child.

Not long after, Bishop Marik realized he had contracted a disease. Something that couldn’t be cured even with holy water – it was sorcery cast on Bishop Marik by Saraka’s parents even as they were dying. How much damage would it do to the Temple’s honor if it became known that the Bishop was dying, unable to overcome mere sorcery? So Bishop Marik sought another method.

Bishop Marik always covered his face with a veil due to burns he had suffered in childhood. Other priests could recognize Bishop Marik just by seeing the veil. So if the veil remained the same, wouldn’t they fail to notice if the contents changed? Conveniently, Bishop Marik had an excellent resource available.

From then on, Saraka was raised to replace Bishop Marik. Bishop Marik taught Saraka everything he possessed. Tastes, small habits, speech patterns, preferences, even beliefs – everything was transferred identically to create the current Saraka.

No one in the world knew more about ‘Bishop Marik’ than Saraka did.

“And now don’t I seem closer to being the real ‘Bishop Marik,’ Bishop?”

Once the current affair was finished and she experienced even the heretic massacre that Bishop Marik had undergone, Saraka would truly be worthy of being ‘Bishop Marik.’

“Ahh…”

Saraka heard Bishop Marik’s response and shyly changed the subject.

“I’ll clean your body first. Then we’ll eat. I brought the soup you often have, Bishop.”

Saraka wiped Bishop Marik’s body with a wet cloth. All the water touching the Bishop’s body was holy water – what a luxurious life this was. Unfortunately, even when touched by holy water, Bishop Marik’s body did not recover. It was the influence of sorcery.

“Mmm.”

“Yes? Did you call me?”

Saraka brought her ear close to make it easier for Bishop Marik to speak. Bishop Marik whispered softly.

“Ebal ueoao.”

‘Please kill me.’

That was what Bishop Marik had whispered. Saraka wanted to burst out laughing at what the Bishop said, but since ‘Bishop Marik’ wouldn’t laugh in such a vulgar manner, she only smiled instead.

“Bishop. What are you saying? Asking me to kill you…”

Saraka replied to the Bishop Marik she respected.

“Bishop. You told me yourself. If you commit a sin, you must survive to the end and suffer while atoning for it. How can you try to die so soon?”

She truly missed the brilliant Bishop Marik of the past. Saraka’s Bishop was someone who never doubted his righteousness even while torturing children and burning them with fire. He was someone who prioritized the Temple’s honor and God over his own life.

But at some point, the Bishop began acting in ways that ‘Bishop Marik’ would not. It was probably due to the sorcery cast by Saraka’s filthy heretic parents. The culmination was using sorcery to summon a demon.

Bishop Marik had initially prepared steadily for his own death, but soon unable to bear dying, he summoned a demon and begged to be saved. The moment Saraka learned this, she captured Bishop Marik and imprisoned him underground.

Because the Bishop had acted in ways that ‘Bishop Marik’ would not. She could no longer stand by and watch the Bishop defile Saraka’s ‘Bishop Marik.’

The demon the Bishop summoned did not stop Saraka.

“Marik begged me to save his life. But he’s already alive, so what other wish should I grant?”

That was the nature of demons. As payment for making a wish to the demon, the Bishop had incurred God’s wrath and fallen to a state where even holy water had no effect. Saraka devoted herself to caring for Marik as his skin rotted, bedsores formed, and inflammation arose, keeping him alive.

The Bishop’s wish when summoning the demon was to prolong his life, and Saraka’s actions were also to treat Bishop Marik, so the demon had no reason to stop Saraka.

Astaroth abandoned the Bishop’s wish and watched Saraka before settling in. The ridiculous reason was that Saraka seemed more interesting.

“Don’t you have any wishes?”

Saraka’s desire was to abandon her filthy self and become the perfect ‘Bishop Marik.’ Bishop Marik despised sorcery, hated heretics, and scorned demons. Therefore, he would never make a wish to a demon.

Then the demon proposed to Saraka. It was merely utilizing available resources to become a more perfect Bishop Marik.

Not making a wish, but utilizing. Just as the Bishop used Saraka, who was of heretic origin, to maintain ‘Bishop Marik.’ Saraka accepted the demon’s proposal and gave the demon Astaroth the name Azazel.

“Lord Azazel is quite late.”

He should have returned immediately after killing Jeremiah. Since Gabriel was the one who presented Jeremiah to the Emperor, Evangeline must have intervened and things went awry.

Bishop Marik, who had been listening quietly, tapped Saraka with his trembling hand. He extended his finger as if to write, so Saraka offered her arm.

‘The contract with the demon has ended. My purpose is fulfilled, so please kill me.’

The contract had ended? Azazel must have died. Perhaps he was soaked in holy water. Saraka focused more on Bishop Marik’s writing than on Azazel’s life or death.

The handwriting of what Bishop Marik wrote was still elegant. Sometimes glimpses of the Bishop she had loved showed through, making it impossible to let him go like this.

“Bishop. You said you wanted to live so much that you made a wish to a demon, so how can you speak of death so easily?”

In the meantime, Saraka had completely cleaned Bishop Marik’s body. Though nothing had changed in appearance. Next was time to eat. Saraka removed the gag from Bishop Marik’s mouth and advised him.

“I trust that you won’t bite your tongue to commit suicide, Bishop.”

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