My Possession Became a Ghost Story - Chapter 236

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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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It was Harut who stopped Bishop Marik. His face was flushed with heat from running frantically, and he was gasping for breath.

“Please. Don’t wound that face.”

Harut pleaded tearfully with his face contorted in anguish. He was so desperate that he grabbed the blade with his bare hands, blood flowing from his palms. Harut raised his other hand, the one not gripping the sword, and brought it to Bishop Marik’s face. He was holding a handkerchief.

Harut carefully wiped away the moisture on Bishop Marik’s face, as if cleaning something precious. At first glance, it looked like the caring gesture of a disciple tending to his mentor, but he was wiping away the holy water. So that even if Bishop Marik wounded his face again, it wouldn’t heal immediately.

“…Priest Harut.”

Bishop Marik glared at Harut through gritted teeth. His gaze was far more sinister and intense than when he looked at me. Wasn’t Harut supposed to be Bishop Marik’s cherished priest? Strangely, what showed in Bishop Marik’s eyes was clear jealousy. What reason would a bishop have to be jealous of a priest?

I pushed away the flood of questions.

“Would you please restrain him so the Bishop cannot harm himself?”

At Harut’s request, the knights hesitated before finally grabbing Bishop Marik’s arms. Even when Bishop Marik shouted at them asking what they were doing, they didn’t let go.

I suddenly realized this was my chance, now that Harut had stopped Bishop Marik. I had to bring up the topic now, before Bishop Marik could act out again.

Right now, Bishop Marik was half out of his mind – traumatized by his burned body, confused by having his veil removed, and falsely accused of being cursed.

So what would happen if the existence of the basement and the person trapped inside was revealed in this situation? Would he struggle again, or would he completely collapse beyond recovery?

I raised my voice again.

“Bishop Marik has been taking human lives to maintain his youth.”

I didn’t know what method Bishop Marik actually used to maintain his youth. But did I really need to uncover the truth? I’d learned very well from Bishop Marik that fabrication was more important than truth. I’d also just learned the fact that I should strike first without letting my guard down.

“I heard that Priest Harut has stayed by Bishop Marik’s side for a long time. Haven’t you witnessed any suspicious behavior?”

I was setting the stage for him to talk about the basement. I expected him to speak up immediately, but instead of opening his mouth right away, Harut pondered for a moment before slowly speaking.

“…Bishop Marik’s room has a basement.”

“A basement? Bishop Marik’s room had a basement?”

“No, I’ve never heard such a thing. Do you know about this, Priest?”

“No… This is the first I’m hearing of it too…”

It seemed most people didn’t know about Bishop Marik’s basement. It was surprising that Harut knew this fact and that Bishop Marik had overlooked it all this time. If it were the Bishop Marik I knew, he would have properly silenced Harut or not left any loose ends. The way he looked at Harut was too eerie to say he’d spared him out of affection.

Harut glanced once at Bishop Marik, then squeezed his eyes shut and continued speaking.

“The Bishop kept a child locked in that room.”

“A child?”

“Bishop Marik imprisoned a child? Priest Harut wouldn’t lie about…”

“Didn’t you just hear what Lady Rohanson said? There was a divine revelation!”

“You believe Evangeline Rohanson?”

“Then do you believe Bishop Marik, who deceived us with his cursed body? No, there’s no need to call him Bishop anymore.”

Right now, people were weighing Bishop Marik and me on scales. The revelation that Bishop Marik was cursed had dealt a heavy blow.

Bishop Marik glared at Harut and me as if he wanted to throw us alive into a fire, then hurriedly made excuses.

“It was a heretic. What’s wrong with giving proper punishment to a heretic?”

“It was a child! My age!”

Harut shouted angrily at Bishop Marik’s words.

“It was a child…”

Harut trailed off. Rather than reproaching or mocking Bishop Marik, it was more like a heartfelt confession. Perhaps he was blaming himself for not being able to save that child back then.

“Was that child really a heretic in the first place? Wasn’t it just another false accusation you made up, as you always do, Bishop?”

Gasps of surprise could be heard from here and there at Harut’s courage.

Until now, no one would have dared bring up talk of false accusations in front of Bishop Marik without being prepared to die. Now that he lacked such power, Bishop Marik could only glare at Harut with vicious eyes. Ugh, he looked ready to kill with his gaze alone.

“Priest Harut, I should have disposed of you long ago…”

“I think so too. I should have stopped you long ago, Bishop. For your sake, and… for Saraka’s sake.”

“…For my sake, you should have kept your mouth shut.”

Wait, what? Bishop Marik didn’t just look angry – he seemed a bit conflicted. If I had to find something similar… Yes. It was exactly the face a street vagrant might make when a rich person tearfully forced charity coins on them. The expression of someone who realized all they had left was their pride.

Ah, now I understood. That was the expression of someone who found being pitied not just uncomfortable but humiliating. But Harut had been pitying the child called Saraka, not Bishop Marik…?

But Harut seemed unaware of the meaning behind that gaze and turned his head away.

“There must be evidence in the basement of the Bishop using evil methods to maintain his youth.”

I didn’t know if that evidence was Saraka, but there was definitely living evidence there. With those words, Harut fell silent.

In that brief time, Harut looked as if he’d aged five years, perhaps from exhaustion. It couldn’t be easy to report the evil deeds of Bishop Marik, whom he’d trusted and followed like a parent or teacher. Moreover, he’d even heard Bishop Marik say he should have disposed of him.

Yet Harut thought of Bishop Marik until the end.

“Um, Lady Evangeline.”

Did he have more to say? Harut called to me, then hesitated briefly before speaking.

“The… Bishop’s face is exactly the same as Saraka’s face that I remember.”

It was a small whisper, quiet enough that only I could hear. Not speaking loudly for everyone to hear seemed like consideration to prevent Bishop Marik’s reputation from falling further into ruin.

“His face?”

“Yes. I’ve never forgotten that child’s face for even a moment, so I’m certain. If Saraka had grown up, she would have looked exactly like the Bishop does now.”

Harut added that this was why he’d instinctively stopped Bishop Marik when he brought the blade to his own face.

“As you said, Lady… did the Bishop really use that child to… steal her body or face to maintain his youth?”

Harut clenched his wounded palm tightly. In his hand was the handkerchief he’d used to wipe Bishop Marik’s face. It was already stained red and would never return to its original color.

“What did the Bishop do to that poor child…?”

Harut gritted his teeth as if devastated. So… was he suggesting that Bishop Marik had possessed Saraka?

The moment I heard Harut’s words, I could only stand there stunned.

‘No… that’s not it.’

That couldn’t be right.

Bishop Marik wouldn’t have taken Saraka’s body as Harut suggested. The holy water had worked properly on Bishop Marik.

When Jeremiah was made to possess Azazel’s body, I’d heard that souls could only be transplanted through demonic power. If he’d stolen a body that way, holy water wouldn’t have affected Bishop Marik.

In the first place, Harut was thinking this way only because I’d claimed that Bishop Marik was taking other people’s lives.

But that was just fabrication I’d spouted carelessly. It wasn’t true. Harut seemed caught up in my wild speculation and couldn’t think of anything else…

In conclusion, Harut’s guess was wrong.

‘Then how?’

So why exactly did Bishop Marik have Saraka’s face? By what method? Just as I was running through all sorts of theories in my head.

Suddenly, an absolutely incredible hypothesis occurred to me.

Bishop Marik, who had been a key figure in the temple since Bishop Jabaniya was a novice priest, and was the same age as Bishop Jabaniya.

Saraka, who was Harut’s age.

The bare face under the veil that looked no older than Harut’s age no matter how I looked at it.

Harut was convinced that Saraka must be dead, but what if… just what if…

“Lady?”

I snapped back to attention.

“Ah.”

I think I understood.

“Lady, are you alright?”

Had I been lost too deep in thought? Gabriel called to me with a worried expression. I reassured Gabriel that I was fine.

“Do you have some idea about what Priest Harut said?”

“Yes.”

I nodded. I didn’t know if my guess was true, but…

Then I could just test it.

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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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