My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 121

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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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Saraka flipped the cards on the table and continued speaking calmly. When the Holy Knights had burst in, they were in the middle of fortune-telling with sorcery. Whatever they had been divining, only three cards had been selected from the deck.

The sorcerer who had been telling fortunes for the young ladies was already beheaded, his body rolling on the floor.

In fact, rather than executing him immediately, he should have been escorted to the Temple for burning at the stake, but the sorcerer before them had been a pawn prepared by Saraka from the beginning.

Just because they were being followed didn’t mean the Bishop would appear immediately. Fearing he might run his mouth, they cut off his head right away.

Saraka felt no guilt. This was all for the Sun God, an act for Saraka to be perfected as Bishop Marik, so there was no reason to feel any sense of sin.

Saraka had merely subtly suggested a path into sorcery to a man whose life had no redeeming qualities. In reality, it was he who couldn’t resist temptation and fell to impulse. Through an intermediary, Saraka had informed the man that the Regur Viscount family was wealthy and instructed him to approach the Viscount’s daughter.

By spreading rumors about the man among the nobles, it didn’t take long for Aria Regur, who was interested in fortune-telling through sorcery, to summon the man. The man must have been expecting gold coins as payment for his fortune-telling services.

Foolishly, he never dreamed he was being used. Saraka kept the wicked Azazel by her side yet her heart remained completely untainted, so the dead man should have learned from her example.

Saraka flipped one of the cards on the table. The overturned card revealed a picture of a demon bound in chains. Small children were holding up a chair where a massive demon with a bull’s head sat, as if worshipping it.

“This is undoubtedly a form of sorcery.”

Count Regur also looked at the picture. The image, filled with compressed unpleasantness, looked sinister and ominous at first glance.

“A person’s life is determined solely by the Sun God, so peering into it is taboo and an act of rebellion against the divine.”

Saraka said this while flipping the next card. It showed a three-headed demon made of human, frog, and cat holding a torch.

“Mother! It was just curiosity! I didn’t know Iza was really a sorcerer!”

“Bishop Marik…! My daughter knew nothing.”

Count Regur vehemently agreed with his daughter’s words. However, ignorance was also a sin. That wasn’t the answer Saraka wanted. For these foolish ones who didn’t know what to say, Saraka set the tone.

“If the Viscount’s daughter knew nothing, then who summoned the sorcerer?”

As if sensing something, the Viscount’s daughter looked at the other two people before shouting loudly.

“Lo, Lohengrin! That wicked heretic bewitched me!”

At those words, the other child who had been reading the situation chimed in.

“That’s right! Lohengrin brought the sorcerer!”

“I, I didn’t! Aria Regur! You brought him!”

“Shut up, you filthy heretic bastard! Bishop… I knew nothing…!”

Saraka almost forgot Bishop Marik’s dignity and burst into loud laughter. Since they had been monitoring the sorcerer, she knew well who had led the fortune-telling. It was the Regur Viscount’s daughter, who was crying so pitifully about injustice, who had summoned the sorcerer.

“…Bishop. Our daughter was merely caught up in this unfortunate situation. If you would please show mercy, we will surely repay the divine…!”

Saraka smiled brightly. Count Regur was the Finance Minister’s younger sister. The other was a wealthy merchant’s child. Among them, the most worthless was Lohengrin, who was now being unjustly accused. No, since he participated in sorcery, there was nothing unjust about it.

Saraka turned over the last card. It showed a picture of a severed head and spear, a person being burned at the stake in flames. Truly a death befitting a heretic.

“Move Lohengrin and the sorcerer’s corpse to the Temple. And burn them until not even eyeballs or bone fragments remain, leaving no ashes.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

At Saraka’s words, the knights gathered the dead sorcerer’s head and body, and lifted Lohengrin to his feet.

“Bishop! Bishop! It wasn’t me, Bishop!”

Lohengrin’s death would be of great help in indebting the Finance Minister’s sister and the great merchant who were present here.

Since a heretic’s death would be worthless anyway, it was right to utilize it in a direction that could gain Saraka even a little benefit. This would lessen Lohengrin’s sins somewhat, so wasn’t it rather an honor for him?

Lohengrin struggled frantically, trying to escape from the Holy Knights’ grasp. However, a delicately raised noble young master could never be a match for the knights. Eventually, Lohengrin was subdued by the knights and dragged away, scraping along the dirt ground.

Lohengrin’s wretched appearance as he begged for his life and hurled abuse at Aria made it impossible to gauge his social status. Moreover, the Holy Knights’ rough handling seemed exactly like they were dealing with a pauper rather than a noble young master.

Count Regur became deeply disturbed, realizing this miserable scene would be the last time seeing young Lohengrin. Was it guilt for driving an innocent child to his death for the sake of his daughter?

Or perhaps it was because he had witnessed firsthand the authority of Bishop Marik, who could condemn even those born of noble blue blood by silencing their three-inch tongues.

“Please call my father… Father will prove my innocence! Bishop!”

Lohengrin seemed to believe without doubt that everything would be resolved once his father came. However, just as Count Regur couldn’t prevent Bishop Marik from invading his courtyard and had to endure the humiliation of his daughter being forced to kneel, Lohengrin’s father would be unable to help his son either.

“The words of heretics have the power to bewitch people. Do you intend to let him continue mocking the faithful with his wicked tongue?”

At Bishop Marik’s point, a Holy Knight gagged Lohengrin’s mouth. The touch was so brutal that not only Lohengrin’s mouth but also his nose was blocked, and he soon lost consciousness completely. The limp Lohengrin was carried away more easily than before.

Lohengrin would be dragged straight to the Temple and executed. His family would only receive posthumous notification and certainly wouldn’t even receive his corpse.

With the Emperor’s tacit consent, the Temple’s power had gone too far. The pretext of punishing heretics had given the Temple wings. Though it looked like indiscriminate massacre, there was divine will behind it.

If anyone criticized the massacres committed by Bishop Marik, they themselves would be branded as heretics. When even the Emperor and Dukes dared not step forward, who would dare stop Bishop Marik?

Moreover, since Bishop Marik always moved based on plausible evidence, on the surface it truly seemed that Bishop Marik was in the right.

To the world, Bishop Marik was no different from the Sun God’s representative.

Though demonic fire jealously tried to burn her to death for her devotion, it could not take the breath of one loved by the divine. Executing heretics was nobility—sacrificing one’s own life while staining one’s hands with blood to atone for the heretics’ sins.

Since the Sun watches over her, no shadow would fall beneath Bishop Marik’s feet.

The Sun God granted Bishop Marik the insight to see truth, so those she pointed out were truly God’s betrayers.

Count Regur was feeling in his bones why his father had found recalling the past heretic massacres so horrifying.

Before sympathizing with the countless dead, the possibility that he himself could become part of that number was deeply chilling. Moreover, now it was Count Regur’s turn to have those claws reach for him…

“Please release the restraints on the other parishioners.”

Following the order, the knights released the restraints that had been holding Aria. Once her body was free, Aria hid behind Count Regur, avoiding Bishop Marik.

If she hadn’t just lied and made Lohengrin the ringleader, it would have been Aria being dragged away right now.

“I was wrong, Mother…”

“Aria…”

Count Regur looked down at his thoughtless daughter who had brought in a sorcerer for fortune-telling. It was all Count Regur’s fault. He had raised his daughter too preciously. At least she had some cunning, otherwise she might have been branded a heretic and purged.

“The sight of you two is truly heartwarming.”

However, though her head hadn’t been severed, it was no different from having her leash held by Bishop Marik.

Count Regur hid his daughter behind him and then bowed his head to Bishop Marik in greeting.

“Please forgive my rudeness from earlier, Bishop.”

“Mother!”

Aria was startled to see her mother bowing to Bishop Marik. The girl, whose judgment was so poor that she dared to have her fortune told through sorcery during the height of heretic massacres, couldn’t understand why Count Regur was taking such a submissive stance toward the Bishop.

It had just been entertainment to pass time. Though Bishop Marik had overreacted, the situation had already revealed Lohengrin as the ringleader, and Aria had merely been wrongly involved without great sin.

In this situation, her mother should have scolded her if anything, so why should she beg Bishop Marik for mercy? Rather, shouldn’t Bishop Marik apologize to her mother and herself for thinking Aria was a heretic and subduing her?

Count Regur ignored his thoughtless daughter and continued apologizing.

“If the Bishop had not personally descended here, I would have remained unaware that my daughter was being manipulated by a sorcerer in my own courtyard. Though I dared to doubt the Bishop’s intentions and deserve divine punishment, I hope the Bishop will show magnanimous forgiveness, considering my devotion to the Temple thus far.”

The Bishop, who had been savoring Count Regur’s flattery like listening to a hymn, opened her mouth.

“You need not apologize to me.”

Saraka looked with great satisfaction at Count Regur, who until just moments ago had rebuked her for overstepping authority in the Sun God’s name, now bowing his head in submission.

Saraka was the same height as Bishop Marik, so she wasn’t very tall. But in the world Saraka saw, she always looked down on others’ heads. Because everyone bowed their heads toward Saraka. Wasn’t it just like the sun’s perspective?

In the past that Bishop Marik had spoken of like a dream, everyone had bowed their heads to the Bishop like this. And now it was the treatment that Saraka, who had inherited Bishop Marik’s name, would naturally receive going forward.

Saraka placed her hand on Count Regur’s shoulder, making her bow even deeper. The touch was so light that to others it would look like Count Regur was moved by the merciful Bishop Marik’s touch and bowing deeper in gratitude.

“This Marik guarantees that Count Regur is an excellent parishioner.”

Though Aria Regur was foolishly bewitched by sorcery, Count Regur was a useful person. Just being the Finance Minister’s sister showed how valuable she was.

“As long as my name protects you, no one in the Temple will be able to cast aspersions on Count Regur and the Viscount’s daughter.”

Those words meant that if she fell from Saraka’s favor, her life would be cast out immediately. Count Regur properly understood the hidden meaning in Saraka’s words.

To have to submit and follow like a loyal dog at one Bishop’s word—the days ahead didn’t seem like they would be entirely pleasant. Her miserable feelings showed clearly on Count Regur’s face.

Fortunately, because she was bowing her head, her expression couldn’t be detected. Count Regur swallowed her resentment and opened her mouth.

“I am grateful for the Bishop’s grace.”

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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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