My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 222

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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 whispered. The sword tip that moved according to Saraka’s intention chose a man so gaunt he was indistinguishable from a poker.

Saraka’s reason for choosing the man was nothing special. From what she had heard, there had been some scuffle when opening the door, and he bore a striking resemblance to the description she had heard from that incident.

Whether he was the actual party involved in that commotion or not, he would have contributed to creating this chaos, so he seemed like an appropriate person.

“For Lady Rahel’s sake…”

The knight steeled his resolve. Yes. Even if not becoming a founding king, he could at least become a stepping stone to gain power by catching Bishop Marik’s eye.

It was merely the life of one heretic that Bishop Marik had designated. When weighed on a scale, it was obvious which way the balance would tip.

The knight erased from his mind that Bishop Marik had said it would be good to ‘start’ with that man. His previously blank mind soon filled with the single thought that he must eliminate the gaunt man.

If the knight had been even slightly rational, he would have recalled the principle that no blood should be shed during a sacrifice ritual, but unfortunately, the knight was intoxicated by Saraka and not in his right mind.

It wasn’t simply that he had been bewitched by Saraka’s smooth talking. The smoky smell that the man had mistaken for body odor was the scent of medicine that Saraka habitually burned and wore on her body. It was the same type of drug she had given to Hena.

After donning long robes and a veil, she had covered all exposed parts with burn scars. Despite receiving extensive training over a long period, there were actually subtle differences between Saraka and Bishop Marik.

Priests who had spent a long time with Bishop Marik might have noticed differences that even Saraka herself wasn’t aware of. The fragrance she wore served to slightly relax the minds of those around her, erasing that small sense of unease.

Though it was only a faint fragrance, it was still a drug. People felt relaxed and found peace in Saraka’s presence. The true identity of the feeling that made parishioners particularly follow ‘Bishop Marik’ and want to stay by his side was actually this.

Occasionally there were cases like Nakir where the drug worked too well, and Arvil seemed to have the same constitution.

Arvil slowly walked toward the man.

“…Hey, be quiet.”

The knight’s voice was small enough to be drowned out by the commotion. It was so deliberately quiet that one might mistake it for being intentionally inaudible.

“Be quiet… I said be quiet…”

The knight gripped the sword’s handle tightly and stepped forward one step at a time.

Saraka watched this scene with bored detachment.

Saraka only needed silence to come. That was the only purpose for the knight and the man.

Rather, what piqued Saraka’s interest was how Evangeline would react to the upcoming bloodshed and the man’s death. There must be a reason why Evangeline had bothered to bring people into the temple. For example… like inciting people to disgrace Bishop Marik as she was doing now.

Did she think Saraka wouldn’t kill those who had invaded the temple without permission? If she had prepared meat shields, she should have brought more convincing ones. Saraka clicked her tongue inaudibly.

The only thing worth watching was that the knight belonged to the Pararos Knights. Seeing a knight under her command take the lead in participating in murder would make Gabriel, if not Evangeline, wear quite a ridiculous expression.

Since Evangeline had denounced Saraka for using Gabriel as a sacrifice, this was justified revenge.

It was when no one except Saraka was paying attention to Arvil amidst the chaos.

Arvil raised his sword high. Taking a deep breath, Arvil swung his sword. Soon he felt the sensation of cutting flesh. The feeling of blood vessels snapping and skin tearing was vividly transmitted through his fingertips. Blood that burst forth splattered on Arvil.

His vision was completely red. Arvil froze for a moment. Had he really just cut down a person with his own hands? For someone called an evil heretic, he had offered not the slightest resistance – he was far, far too easy an opponent.

Arvil was a knight. As a member of the Pararos Knights, he had fought in many battles. However, this was the first time he had cut down an unresisting opponent.

This was because Captain Gabriel only assigned what could be considered cruel tasks to a select few. Usually Rafaela, Michel, and Uriel were those targets. Arvil had envied them for receiving the captain’s trust, but he had never been jealous of their slaughter.

Arvil wasn’t the only one covered in blood. A boy who had been near the man was also close by and screamed in terror.

“…Ugh, uwaah, uwaaah!”

A person had been cut by a sword right before his eyes. Something warm splattered on his face, and the boy fumbled at his face, then panicked when he saw red blood on his hands. Only after the boy screamed did attention turn their way.

“What the hell is that bastard doing?”

Those who noticed Arvil’s bizarre behavior were bewildered. The situation was different from when they had subdued people who had tried to enter the temple without permission. Now all the nobles were watching. Moreover, acting independently without the bishop’s orders was absurd.

“Crazy, Arvil?”

Among them, Rafaela also recognized the knight. Rafaela clutched her head frantically. Her head felt like it would explode just from the captain’s situation, and now why was that guy acting like that too!

If he had boldly left the Pararos Knights, couldn’t he at least live well! Why had he become Bishop Marik’s chess piece that was obviously going to be discarded!

Rafaela immediately turned her gaze.

What about the captain? He’s not going to go grab Arvil by the throat, is he? Rafaela turned her head to check on Gabriel and felt relieved. Though the veins in his neck were standing out and red, he was staying still, so it seemed safe for now.

With knights attached to him, at least Gabriel couldn’t act recklessly.

She never thought she’d find the guys who had bound and escorted Gabriel endearing.

Seeing Rafaela looking around, Duke Baal grabbed her ear, telling her to behave herself.

Meanwhile, Saraka was quite satisfied. The surroundings had become much quieter.

Though the knight had hesitated at the last moment and held back somewhat so the man didn’t die instantly, thanks to the weak boy screaming, the effect was much better than expected.

The way he kept coughing up blood continuously was actually more convincing to watch. Saraka waited for Evangeline’s reaction that would follow next.

“Bishop.”

Just then, Evangeline called to Saraka. As Evangeline’s voice echoed, the crowd’s attention immediately focused on Saraka.

“Haven’t you mistakenly identified the wrong target?”

Evangeline’s gaze briefly turned to the knight who had targeted the man. Though Evangeline’s gaze had no physical form, the knight visibly flinched his blood-stained hand without realizing it. His hand trembled so violently it seemed he might drop his sword at any moment.

“My, I don’t quite understand what Lady Rohanson is saying. Do you mean I incited Sir Arvil to murder?”

Saraka deliberately used harsh words to make listeners feel uncomfortable.

“Sir Arvil, answer me. Did I order you to kill that man?”

“No, no you did not.”

“Then why did you draw your sword?”

“Because… because that person is a heretic. He disrupted the sacrifice ritual and invaded the temple without permission, speaking falsehoods.”

Arvil answered quite well as Saraka had whispered to him.

Though the man cut by Arvil’s body was convulsing and seemed about to die, Evangeline made no particular response. Was the man merely a discarded card to Evangeline as well? How unfortunate… Saraka felt slightly sorry for the man.

Arvil was trembling, unable to handle the blood on his hands and sword. Anyone watching would think he had committed murder. For someone who hadn’t even finished off one heretic’s life, he was remarkably faint-hearted.

“Sir Arvil.”

“Yes, yes… Bishop.”

Saraka called to the knight who seemed half out of his mind. Arvil’s reason was paralyzed. The fragrance on Saraka’s body had the ability to make thoughts sluggish.

“You did nothing wrong.”

Saraka began her speech, coaxing and soothing Arvil.

“And to the parishioners who attended to commemorate this momentous day.”

She immediately expanded her audience. However, those Saraka addressed were not the ruffians who had suddenly invaded the temple, but only the formally invited nobles, priests, and knights. Those who had invaded the temple without knowing their place were not people who would be swayed by Saraka’s sermon.

“You must have heard Viscount Rohanson’s testimony. That is a demon wearing the shell of the sadly deceased Evangeline Rohanson. The voice that bewitches people and those red eyes, no different from Lea’s symbol, are proof of this.”

The reaction caused by the word Lea was immense. It silenced the ignorant ones who had stormed into the temple and made the priests extremely wary. Chaos erupted instantly. Evangeline Rohanson’s red eyes made it possible.

Among them all, the one whose heart was beating most violently was none other than Saraka.

“An evil demon wearing human skin is blocking the sun and bewitching and inciting the ignorant.”

Saraka’s sacrifice looked at Saraka with blazing red eyes. It was terribly exciting. Her head tingled with an emotion that might have been fear or ecstasy.

“They have already become like puppets who have lost their reason. Everyone, draw your swords. Shouldn’t we put these souls already tainted by demons to peaceful rest?”

At Saraka’s words, the sound of swords being drawn could be heard from all directions. Knights had drawn their swords against the heretics Saraka had designated. Saraka continued her speech as if advising those still hesitating and encouraging the knights who had drawn their swords.

“Cutting them down so they are no longer swayed by demons is the only way we can help them. Just as Sir Arvil did.”

So there was no need to feel guilt about their deaths.

Saraka tried not to show her excitement. Finally, she could clean up the terrible dregs she couldn’t help but despise. Finally, she could surpass Bishop Marik whom Saraka had revered.

She had desperately endured just for this moment. Saraka had lived to become Bishop Marik, even abandoning her own name. Because that was the only means for Saraka, who had been a lowly heretic, to survive.

But her greed grew more and more. Ungratefully, Saraka wanted not simply to imitate but to become Marik herself. Wasn’t it a name that suited Saraka better than the decaying bishop in the basement?

She had to steal Bishop Marik’s position. Saraka decided to achieve greater accomplishments than the bishop. If Saraka eliminated Lea’s devotee, then it would be Saraka herself who would be remembered as Bishop Marik in the future. It was incomparable to merely massacring heretics.

Now it was time for Saraka to accomplish with her own hands the great deed that even Bishop Marik had failed to achieve.

Evangeline would be the foundation for that.

“Come now, bestow your blessing upon Lady Rohanson and these unfortunate souls.”

Saraka hummed as if singing in her excitement. But soon words that broke Saraka’s mood could be heard.

“I feel terribly wronged that the Bishop suspects me.”

For a moment she thought white arms had reached from behind to embrace Saraka’s neck. Though her neck wasn’t being strangled, the back of her neck felt cold. The voice whispered in her ear was so gentle it gave her chills.

“I swear to heaven that I am innocent.”

Having said that, Evangeline raised her voice so everyone could hear this time.

“If you cannot trust me… then shall we make a wager?”

Though her voice had grown loud enough for everyone to hear, Evangeline’s conversation partner was Saraka alone.

“…A wager?”

When Saraka frowned and asked back, Evangeline opened her mouth gracefully.

“I will throw myself down as I am. If I am guilty, I will meet a miserable end with my whole body shattered. But if I am innocent, God will take pity on me and extend a hand of salvation.”

Evangeline’s words reached her ears with crystalline clarity.

Evangeline erased her smile. Her face, which had worn a painted-on expression of mirth, became dry and emotionless.

“I will prove my innocence through my death.”

Soon after, Evangeline threw herself down. From the tip of the spire that Saraka had been watching, her white dress and hair fluttered before she plummeted downward and disappeared from view.

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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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