My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 228

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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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Today, my bluffing success rate was particularly poor. Perhaps it was because I had a master of gaslighting nearby that my tricks weren’t working well. Well, of course. Having lived listening to Bishop Marik’s incredible gaslighting, how could my schemes possibly work?

Should I change direction then?

I couldn’t just keep standing still and watching the situation unfold. I had to make my move before Pudding’s power wore out. I had to make the knights lower their swords before the rain stopped. To do that, I’d first have to escape from this encirclement.

“Count Jerak. You know very well that what you saw wasn’t an illusion either, don’t you?”

I shifted my approach slightly more toward provoking Jerak. If persuasion doesn’t work, then provocation it is.

“Bishop Marik said I was Lea, but think carefully. Isn’t Bishop Marik, who dares to interpret God’s will as he pleases and commands the faithful at will, the truly arrogant one?”

“Who are you calling arrogant…?”

“Count Jerak, don’t listen to what the demon says and calm yourself.”

“That’s right. There’s no need to listen, so just ignore it.”

As soon as Jerak started to flare up, the knights surrounding me with him began glancing around nervously and restraining Jerak. But was Jerak the only one with something to hide? The other knights who overheard our conversation also began to look confused.

Jerak suppressed his anger at the knights’ restraint and swallowed his rage. Oh my, he’s quite good at holding back? I’d created an opening, but I couldn’t let him calm down like this.

“Then why do you trust Bishop Marik’s words rather than the miracle you witnessed directly? You all know that those who set foot in the temple committed no sins worthy of being considered heretics. God knew this fact and took pity on me and those poor souls, even sending an angel and bestowing holy water, yet you still distrust me—no, Lady Rahel’s will…”

I borrowed Bishop Marik’s speech pattern, thinking the provocation might work better that way. I may look like this, but I’m someone who once deceived even Arvil, a Bishop Marik follower, with my acting. Having been on the receiving end so much, I’d say I have quite a talent for imitating Bishop Marik.

“To me, Count Jerak, it looks like you worship Bishop Marik rather than Lady Rahel.”

That seemed to be the decisive blow.

“I told you to shut that filthy mouth!”

Blood vessels stood out on his shouting neck. His eyes were fierce and his face was completely flushed. Jerak was getting more enraged because he had something to hide.

I deliberately smiled broadly for all to see. All that smiling practice is coming in handy now. I practiced to smile naturally in front of Gabriel, but why do I have to show it to someone else… But smiling is more effective at provoking opponents than being expressionless, so I can’t not smile.

“This damn demon bastard…!”

“…Jerak!”

Jerak tried to rush at me, and several people rushed to stop him, instantly breaking their formation.

“Calm down! The Bishop said not to kill Evangeline Rohanson…!”

So that’s why they were only keeping me in check—Bishop Marik must have given advance orders not to kill me. I’d guess that while the situation went awry because of me, he at least wants to handle my treatment according to his original plan.

“Shut up! Didn’t you hear what she said? We need to kill her now. We need to kill her now so she can’t cause any more trouble!”

However, Jerak couldn’t contain his rage. He seemed to have no intention of following Bishop Marik’s orders. Good. Let me take back what I said about worshipping Bishop Marik. Bishop! You did a poor job training your knights!

Eventually, Jerak even swung his sword at his own comrades. He showed no mercy in his strikes. The knights’ wounds, cut so deep that bone was visible as they screamed and rolled on the ground, quickly healed as they were touched by the rain. Those knights will now believe the rain is holy water.

“…You’re all hallucinations too, right? Right?”

As if denying the sight of his comrades healing instantly, Jerak muttered in a deranged state. Since he’d dismissed it as fantasy, he seemed to have completely lost his reason and couldn’t even properly assess the situation.

Did I go a bit too far?

But Jerak’s condition was strangely bizarre to simply blame on my wrongdoing.

He could temporarily lose his reason from being angry at my provocative words, plus hearing the smell of blood and screams. But losing reason to the point of disobeying Bishop Marik’s orders?

He’s just like someone who can’t control himself when drinking… Come to think of it, his eyes do seem a bit unfocused. Did he really drink during duty? If that’s really the case, what an outstanding holy knight we have here. Though with the temple being the pinnacle of corruption, a holy knight drinking isn’t even gossip-worthy.

Thanks to Jerak’s drunken disgrace, the encirclement crumbled, but because of that, the other knights were also rolling on the ground, leaving no one to guard me.

Jerak raised his hand. The sword in his grip glinted menacingly. That blade looks like it’s about to stab me, damn… I couldn’t ask Pudding, who was currently raining down holy water, for help. If Pudding stops sprinkling holy water, dozens will die instead of me.

There’s no choice. I’ll have to grab the sword before getting stabbed. I won’t get cut, right? It would be a bit troublesome if people saw that my wounds don’t heal.

Just when I thought I was in trouble, a familiar figure blocked my path.

Heat suddenly washed over me. Though he had his back to me, it wasn’t difficult to identify who it was. No, I couldn’t help but recognize him.

“Count Gabriel?”

Gabriel, who had appeared from who knows where, easily blocked Jerak and knocked away his sword. The sword flew through the air in a wide arc and stuck firmly into the ground.

I was about to gush about how he appeared dramatically like some male lead when he’s not even one. Gabriel swung his sword without hesitation toward the disarmed knight.

“Ugh, aaaaah…!”

Blood splattered. However, since Gabriel was blocking my path, none of it reached me.

Gabriel seemed to want to shield me from the gruesome sight, blocking my view so all I could see was Gabriel’s back.

Though I wasn’t short myself, I really felt how Gabriel was a full head taller than me. Even when we stood side by side, he never looked down at me, so I only realized this now seeing his back.

With Gabriel standing protectively in front of me, not a drop of blood splattered on me, but I could clearly hear Jerak’s screams mixed with sobs. I stepped aside to slightly move out from behind Gabriel.

The knight was rolling on the ground, groaning in pain from his slashed flesh. The blessing of holy water worked the same way, and his wounds healed instantly.

I was so bewildered that I just blinked with my eyes wide open.

Gabriel cutting someone? Well, of course he’d swing a sword since he’s a knight. But even seeing Gabriel harm someone right before my eyes, I couldn’t believe it. Is this exactly how the priests defending Bishop Marik feel? I don’t need this kind of empathy.

Gabriel aimed his dripping sword again.

“How long will you keep acting foolish about a healed wound?”

At Gabriel’s words, Jerak, who had been screaming, fumbled over his body.

“How, how is the wound…?”

“How does it feel experiencing it directly? Does it still feel like an illusion?”

He seemed ready to cut him again if it still felt like a hallucination. The cold, domineering tone was unfamiliar. Gabriel had never once dropped his respectful speech with me.

“It, it must be an illusion. You just showed me the illusion of cutting me!”

At Jerak’s words, Gabriel swung his sword once more, slashing Jerak’s abdomen. Though he said that, I didn’t expect Gabriel to actually strike again. Since Jerak was sitting on the ground, he couldn’t even escape.

The low voice asked once more.

“How about this time?”

It was an indifferent tone with none of his usual warmth visible. The ruthlessly quiet and calm tone felt no anger, making it even more chilling.

Because Gabriel’s flat tone was proof that he hadn’t swung his sword after losing reason like Jerak, but had deliberately harmed someone through purely rational judgment.

“…”

Having been severely punished for one wrong word, Jerak was too afraid of being cut again to even open his mouth.

Jerak just looked up at Gabriel, trembling while pale as a sheet. Yes, that was normal. Charging forward like a bulldozer just because holy water was falling wasn’t possible with ordinary mental strength. So I could clearly see how desperate the people who flocked to the temple were.

Leaving Jerak speechless, the knights slowly backed away. Some of them ran to Bishop Marik, apparently planning to report that Gabriel had been freed from confinement.

“Bi, Bishop!”

I’d be grateful if they called him over. But Gabriel seemed about to deal with those knights as well, taking a step forward. I called Gabriel, meaning for him to leave them alone.

“Count.”

I called, but Gabriel didn’t even look back.

“Count Gabriel, look at me.”

Only after calling him again did Gabriel turn his body diagonally and step away from me.

So that’s why he’d only shown me his back—his front was a mess. Jerak’s blood had splattered not only on his clothes but on his face as well.

Shadows fell beneath his drooping hair and long eyelashes. The redness of blood stood out even more against his skin, paler and whiter than usual from the rain. Without realizing it, I briefly understood why people get so excited and lustful over the color red. Though it wasn’t even a lip mark, the color staining his ascetic face felt obscene, stirring an impulse in me.

Like footprints in snow. While understanding the desire to defile, seeing footprints already made, I felt perversely angry that there was a predecessor who had left their mark before me. Even though the blood on Gabriel was actually the remnant of violence from him cutting someone.

As I silently stared at his face without saying anything, Gabriel covered his face with his hand and slightly turned his head. However, perhaps because of my words telling him to look at me, his gaze didn’t leave me.

“…I apologize for showing you such an unsightly appearance.”

Was the unsightly appearance referring to the sword fight just before, or was he talking about being stained with blood? If it’s the latter, he’s terribly lacking in self-objectivity.

“How could it be unsightly? Rather…”

Rather, it was appetizing. Does red also have the effect of stimulating human appetite? That must be it. There were already rumors about me being cannibalistic, so it didn’t seem like something I should say, so I swallowed the rest of my words.

At my firm denial, Gabriel shyly lowered his eyes. Now he seemed like the Gabriel I knew. I wish he wouldn’t act shy while covered in blood.

But did Gabriel also get hurt during the earlier scuffle? His clothes were tattered. But strangely, only the shirt underneath was like that, while the outer jacket was remarkably intact. Come to think of it, what Gabriel was wearing now wasn’t the outer garment Misha had prepared either. Perhaps sensing my gaze, Gabriel fastened the jacket he’d gotten from who knows where.

“There was interference on the way, so I borrowed it briefly.”

He must have stripped the outer garments from knights and put them on. Come to think of it, the sword in his hand wouldn’t be Gabriel’s either. I looked Gabriel over with my eyes and asked.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“How could I die without your permission?”

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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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