Sister, I Hit You Because There Was a Ghost Behind You - Chapter 7

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 7. Your Majesty, You Have a Centipede Wrapped Around Your Neck
Though he reproached me in a low voice, the arm encircling me was taut with tension.
“But I caught it anyway.”
I laughed softly and draped my arm across his shoulder. Whether from the release of tension or the borrowed divine power finally depleting, my entire body went limp. The world spun before my eyes.I instinctively buried my face against Demian’s chest.
I instinctively buried my face in Demian Lyart’s chest.
“Commander… my battery’s dead…”
“…Pardon?”
“Recharge… just one more time…”
Before I could finish speaking, consciousness slipped away.
The last things I remembered were Demian’s heart thundering wildly in his chest and the urgency in his voice as he called my name, watching me lose consciousness.
* * *
The next morning, when I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted me.
Instead of the scent of disinfectant, a subtle herbal fragrance filled the air. Demian closed the book he’d been reading and spoke.
“You’re awake?”
Demian, who had been sitting in the chair beside the bed reading, looked at me. Instead of last night’s formal evening wear, he wore his pristine Holy Knight uniform once more. Yet his expression was no longer as cold as before.
“Where am I…?”
“My Official Residence. The Inquisition Headquarters dormitory is unusable for the time being—you destroyed it rather thoroughly.”
Right, I had smashed the windows and walls to pieces catching that assassin.
I scratched my head sheepishly and sat up. Fortunately, my body felt refreshed. It seemed Demian had healed me with his divine power while I slept.
“Thank you, Commander. I slept like a log thanks to you.”
“…You’re welcome. But rather…”
Demian cleared his throat and averted his gaze. The tips of his ears were faintly flushed.
“About what happened in the Banquet Hall yesterday… that…”
“That?”
“The kiss. Was that truly… a tactical maneuver?”
The moment he asked, memories from last night flashed through my mind like film strips. Me pulling him close and kissing him in front of the zombie horde. And all those brazen lines I’d spouted—”my love,” “recharge,” and such.
‘Oh… I’m insane.’
Thinking about it with a clear mind now, my face burned unbearably.
Even if I could excuse it as desperation to survive back then, that excuse didn’t hold now.
But if I showed embarrassment here, I’d lose.
I pulled the blanket toward me as casually as possible and shrugged.
“Of course. You saw it yourself, didn’t you? One kiss and the weapon gets enhanced.”
“…”
“What? Don’t tell me…”
I narrowed my eyes and looked at him teasingly.
“Commander, was that your first kiss?”
Thud. Demian dropped the thick theological tome he’d been holding onto the floor. His face flushed crimson like a ripe apple in an instant.
“W-what! No! I’ve had romantic experience too…!”
“Come on, your reaction says it all. Oh my, what an innocent Holy Knight.”
I giggled, teasing him mercilessly.
I never imagined that mocking the Inquisition’s highest authority could be this entertaining.
Just then, an urgent knock sounded from outside the room. The Adjutant burst through the door and cried out.
“Commander! We have a crisis!”
He caught sight of me sitting on the bed and Demian Lyart standing there with flushed cheeks, hesitated for a moment, then quickly averted his gaze and made his report.
“A…a messenger from the Imperial Palace has arrived. His Majesty the Emperor has issued an urgent summons for Lady Violetta.”
“His Majesty the Emperor?”
“Yes. It appears last night’s incident in Nocturne was reported. He wishes to grant you an audience, recognizing you as a saint, my lady.”
My gaze met Demian Lyart’s. A saint? Me, who had cracked my bridegroom’s skull and beaten demons to death with a cudgel?
“This is turning out to be quite the spectacle.”
I rose from the bed and stretched. My eyes gleamed with anticipation. This was the sign of another hunt.
“Let’s go, partner. Time to clean house at the Imperial Palace.”
Inside the carriage heading toward the Imperial Palace, Demian Lyart recited imperial etiquette to me like a man being dragged to the gallows, his expression grave.
“Lady Violetta, listen carefully. Before His Majesty, you must never raise your head more than forty-five degrees, and you must not answer unless asked. And please….”
He gazed at my hand with earnest eyes—specifically, at the sleeve concealing my three-section staff.
“Do not draw your weapon. Using force within the Imperial Palace is immediately punishable as treason.”
“Don’t worry. I have some sense, you know.”
I answered dismissively and gazed out the window.
The magnificent Imperial Palace with its gleaming golden roof.
People revered it as the heart of the Empire, but to my eyes, it was nothing more than a colossal haunted mansion.
Hundreds of malevolent spirits crawled up the palace walls, while hanged ghosts dangled from every garden tree like ornaments, and from the ornate fountains gushed not clear water but dark crimson blood.
It was a cursed realm far worse than the Inquisition Headquarters—if anything, even more so.
“Wow, this place has terrible feng shui. Did no one ever teach the Emperor about geomancy?”
“…Are you hearing strange things again?”
“Not strange things—absolutely deafening screams.”
I clicked my tongue. No wonder the Emperor had lost his mind, living in a place like this. The Chief Chamberlain announced loudly.
“His Imperial Majesty receives you!”
The massive golden doors opened, and we entered the Audience Chamber.
At the far end of the crimson carpet, seated upon a towering throne, was Emperor Ludwig III, the sun of the Empire. Beside him stood a man in white priestly robes, his serpentine eyes gazing down upon us.
It was Archbishop Cassius, the Primate of the Helios Church, the Empire’s state religion.
‘…Bingo.’
I narrowed my eyes.
The Emperor appeared stern on the surface, but his eyes were hollow and his complexion ashen. It could be no other way.
Coiled tightly around the Emperor’s neck was a massive purple centipede.
Countless legs of the centipede burrowed into the Emperor’s nape and spine, manipulating his nerves. Each time the Emperor opened his mouth, the centipede’s mandibles clicked, blowing black miasma into his oral cavity.
And the centipede’s tail extended far, connecting to the shadow of Archbishop Cassius standing beside him.
‘So the Archbishop was the mastermind.’
If the demon behind Laura was one of greed, this creature was a demon of domination that controlled humans.
The Emperor spoke in a hollow voice.
“Raise your head.”
Demian Lyart and I lifted our heads. Demian Lyart clenched his fists, tension evident in every muscle.
“Are you… the young lady who vanquished those demons last night?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I am Violetta of the Eberhardt Family.”
I lowered my gaze and answered as demurely as I could manage.
At that moment, Archbishop Cassius interjected with a venomous smile.
“Your Majesty, that woman is dangerous. I’ve heard she wielded violence in the sacred Banquet Hall and engaged in blasphemous conduct. Perhaps she didn’t capture a demon—perhaps she was possessed by one.”
The Emperor’s pupils grew dim at Cassius’s words.
As the centipede coiled around his neck tensed its legs, the Emperor’s face contorted in pain.
“…Is that so? The Archbishop makes a compelling point. Lord Lyart, why do you shield such a witch?”
“Your Majesty! Miss Violetta is no witch! She is—”
Demian stepped forward urgently, but Archbishop Cassius cut him off with a sharp rap of his staff.
“Silence, Lord! You too are clearly bewitched by that witch’s dark magic. Guards! Seize her at once! Lock her in the Underground Dungeon, and I shall personally purify her!”
In an instant, the Imperial Guard surrounded us with leveled spears. Demian positioned himself before me, his hand moving to his sword hilt. But drawing steel within the Imperial Palace meant our deaths.
‘A textbook frame-up.’
I exhaled deeply.
These creatures would not listen to reason.
That Archbishop especially—he bore a grudge for my eliminating his prey, and he had clearly seized this moment to dispose of me.
“Wait.”
I grasped Demian’s shoulder and stepped forward.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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