My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 221

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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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Evangeline widened her red eyes that resembled Lea’s and clasped her hands together like an innocent girl as she spoke. However, her imitation of a gentle girl was surprisingly terrible.

Her pulsing red eyes were filled with murderous intent, and her pronunciation remained steady and calm without any inflection. It looked as if she were reading from a script.

The audience for this performance might be everyone who had realized the sun had disappeared. Even the followers who were standing in stunned silence just because the sky had darkened were Evangeline’s excellent spectators.

“Could it be that Bishop Marik has mistaken the sacrifice?”

Evangeline questioned in a gentle voice.

The sacrifice is wrong? Saraka thought Evangeline was referring to herself, but only realized she meant someone else when she saw the direction of that red gaze. In that moment, Evangeline’s gaze had reached Gabriel at the far end.

“Perhaps the god is angry because the sacrifice for the ritual is not correct.”

Her voice, which spread out resonantly, seemed to contain a strange magical power. Since it echoed from all directions, it would be stranger if it didn’t sound mystical.

“Um… Bishop, is what she’s saying true?”

“Is the Sun God really angry because the sacrifice is not correct?”

In an instant, people were swayed by Evangeline’s opinion. They quickly became absorbed in her ideology and even asked whether Gabriel was an improper sacrifice. Saraka immediately denied it.

“That cannot be. Count Gabriel worshipped something other than god, so he too is guilty. Moreover, since the object of his worship was an evil demon, all the more so.”

If things had gone according to Saraka’s plan, with a demon disguised as Gabriel on the stage, Saraka’s words would have had evidence by now, which was quite regrettable.

But Evangeline Rohanson also had reason to feel regret. Even though it was for deception, hadn’t Saraka personally come to ask Evangeline to play the role of sacrifice? Having Evangeline Rohanson in Gabriel’s place would have been quite appealing too.

“Perhaps it was my mistake. I should have invited not Count Gabriel, but the one he worships—you.”

At Saraka’s words, Evangeline smiled and shook her head.

And in the next moment, Evangeline suddenly approached and whispered in Saraka’s ear.

“Even if I had climbed onto the altar, nothing would have changed. Bishop Marik, listen carefully to the voices of the people.”

Saraka momentarily stopped breathing. Even her breathing could be heard in minute detail. It felt as if all her nerves were focused on her ears.

For a moment, she had the illusion that Evangeline had actually grabbed her and whispered, but Evangeline was still standing at the top of the bell tower. Saraka felt ticklish and got goosebumps, wanting to cover her ears.

When Evangeline stopped whispering, the sounds from outside became even clearer. Only then did Saraka pay attention to the noise. People were causing an uproar, each for their own reasons. Most of it was about the heretics Saraka had killed.

“Wasn’t it Bishop Marik who brought suffering to them?”

Evangeline looked down with what seemed like pity.

Saraka denied it. The idea that it was Saraka herself, not some evil being, who brought suffering—that was nonsense.

They suffered because they had heretics as family members, and because they failed to become faithful followers of the Sun God.

Losing heretical family members and being so unfortunate as to be unworthy even of holy water—the past Saraka had been the same. The only difference between them and Saraka was that Saraka had completely accepted Lady Rahel.

In contrast, they had weak faith, harbored doubts, and even stormed into the temple. Therefore, their suffering was entirely of their own making.

They were wrong. Saraka was not wrong. ‘Bishop Marik’ was not evil. Bishop Marik was…

Perhaps because of the surrounding noise, her head was particularly throbbing. Maybe it was because everything was dark except for the annex, which was ablaze, making the flames especially noticeable.

Since she couldn’t extinguish the flames immediately, she should at least make the people shut their mouths. The noisy barking made it difficult to concentrate on her conversation with Evangeline.

Unlike her welcome of Evangeline, Saraka did not welcome the commotion itself. Hadn’t they prevented her from properly completing the important sacrifice ritual? How much had Saraka anticipated and waited for this sacrifice ritual.

“Azazel, no… Sir.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

In her confusion, Saraka reflexively called Azazel’s name, then corrected her mistake. The knight who had been standing closest as her guard quickly responded.

“Calm the people.”

The knight couldn’t immediately grasp Saraka’s meaning.

In this regard, Saraka judged that the knight named Nakir was better. Nakir followed Saraka’s orders without question. However, he had a tendency to interpret orders as he pleased and had violent tendencies, making it awkward to place him before distinguished guests, so she had assigned him to security rather than guard duty. But even Nakir fell far short compared to Azazel.

She had tried several people to fill Azazel’s vacant position, but none had satisfied her yet. Since she was comparing them to a demon, there was no way anyone would catch her eye. The only decent one had been Muzeta, but she couldn’t keep using a knight belonging to the Imperial Court.

Saraka decided to be a little more lenient. Just as Bishop Marik had taught the inadequate Saraka, she too could personally bestow teachings upon these people. Saraka explained in a gentle tone how to calm the people.

“Demand silence, and if they don’t listen, kill one person as an example. If it’s still noisy, keep making examples until the disturbance subsides.”

After dozens of heads had fallen, those who valued their own lives would naturally shut their mouths.

“What? But Bishop, they are not heretics, just ordinary citizens.”

At the knight’s flustered rebuttal, Saraka clicked her tongue. Bishop Marik was truly remarkable—leading the ignorant was such laborious work. Saraka asked, wanting to remember the knight.

“What is your name?”

“…Arvil.”

The knight sensed that Bishop Marik asking for his name was certainly not for a good reason, but he had no choice but to answer honestly.

“Which unit were you under, Sir?”

“…Until recently, I was with the Pararos Knights.”

The knight answered with some hesitation. Only after hearing the name did Saraka recognize him. So it was a defector from the Pararos Knights.

After Gabriel’s reputation declined, quite a number had switched affiliations. Saraka had selected the most notably changed among them as her personal guards. She hoped Gabriel would feel ashamed when he stood as a sacrifice before his former subordinates.

Additionally, it was Saraka’s small entertainment to see the knights disparage and humiliate the captain they had once admired endlessly.

Having only remembered the name, she couldn’t immediately recall him just by looking at his face. If he had been with the Pararos Knights, it made sense.

She had thought his thinking was properly aligned since he had personally left Gabriel’s service, but her expectations seemed excessive. To corrupt the mindset one should have as a follower like this—Gabriel was truly remarkable.

Saraka instructed him as if teaching a lesson.

“Sir Arvil. Listen carefully. They are rioters who disrupted the sacrifice ritual and committed arson. How could those who tried to attack the temple be innocent?”

If she had assigned another knight to do it, there would be no need for preaching, but she changed her mind upon learning Arvil was from the Pararos Knights.

Given his background, she could take sufficient time to give him a chance for reform. Hadn’t it taken Saraka a full seven years to understand Bishop Marik’s great will? Saraka continued her explanation.

“Asking to revive the dead goes against the natural order and providence that god has established, and demanding holy water is an impious attitude that devalues holy water without paying its worth through proper means. They are treating the blessings Lady Rahel has bestowed as cheap.”

Saraka responded to the final cries that disparaged Bishop Marik.

“And how could those chosen by this Marik not be heretics? Now, think about it. How did they infiltrate the temple? And at the very moment when the trial of the sun disappearing like a lie befell us. It cannot be coincidence. They are merely scoundrels who conspired with Evangeline Rohanson to plot the temple’s downfall.”

The knight looked up at the pure white woman who had covered the sun, then swallowed as if his throat was burning. He had almost ended up defending an enemy officially recognized by Bishop Marik.

“What are you, Sir Arvil?”

“I am a knight of Lady Rahel.”

At Saraka’s question, the knight quickly straightened and answered.

“Then act like a follower of the Sun God. Stand at the forefront more than anyone else and annihilate the impious and evil heretics for the sun.”

Saraka placed her hand over Arvil’s hand.

Arvil flinched when Bishop Marik suddenly came close. For a moment, his mind became hazy. He couldn’t believe he was holding Bishop Marik’s hand. As she gently stroked his hand, his chest area became ticklish and his heartbeat quickened.

The hand scarred from the fire was far more hideous and unsightly than that of Arvil, who was a knight. Bishop Marik’s scent was like the ashes left after burning everything, a acrid smell of smoke. It was as if she was trapped in that day when she was engulfed in flames.

The knight suddenly felt ashamed of himself.

Even the blisters from gripping his sword didn’t contain as much hardship as Bishop Marik’s hands. Bishop Marik’s scars were proof that she strived most for god in the temple.

Compared to that, what about Arvil? He had been a subordinate of Gabriel, who was even selected as a sacrifice. After receiving cold stares from fellow knights, hadn’t he been personally selected by Bishop Marik this time, feeling grateful and resolving to do well? As everyone proclaimed, the Bishop was fair and gave even him an opportunity.

Arvil had no right to talk back to Bishop Marik in the first place. Bishop Marik was kindly explaining away doubts that could have been ignored. Arvil could no longer object to Bishop Marik’s words.

Saraka guided the knight’s hand to his waist, making him grasp the sword hilt.

“Sir Arvil’s efforts will soon restore the sun to the sky. Draw your sword for me, and strike down the sinners for Lady Rahel. Yes. Leading from the front, you will surely be like the founding king who drew his sword to slay Lea.”

The knight drew his sword as Saraka guided him. It was merely a clever manipulation to make him think he had drawn the sword of his own volition, but thanks to the chaotic situation, it worked remarkably well.

Saraka smiled broadly. Her unpleasantly curved eyes resembled the portrait of an evil demon that priests spoke of rather than the benevolent bishop people talked about.

However, the veil concealed Saraka’s hideous smile. Saraka opened her mouth while maintaining her smile.

“That one would be good to start with.”

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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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