The Villain Who Will Kill Me Is Too Handsome, It's Troublesome - Chapter 3

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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 3.
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As Artiela studied the portrait in silence, the Emperor grew restless and pressed for her answer.
“Well? I’ve heard you say that beauty cannot be a sin. Is that why you hesitate?”
By Artiela’s measure, he was right.
What she saw through the Holy Sword was not appearance, but the soul itself.
Those who harmed others with lies had twisted or torn mouths; those who stole bore festering boils across their bodies; murderers’ necks were broken. She alone knew these truths.
People did not understand that true beauty lay only in those whose inner and outer selves matched.
But the Holy Sword’s secret could never be revealed to outsiders. It was better to remain known as someone who judged by appearance.
Artiela handed the portrait back to the knight.
“Edeline does not involve itself in the politics of the secular world.”
Rejected.
“I’ve heard what your holy knights say—that it’s a matter for humanity?”
“Yes. We intervene when the powerless cannot save themselves.”
We prove the innocence of the condemned who have committed no crime, or we seek out criminals beyond the law’s reach and pass Divine Trial upon them.
Each time, the Emperor had sent letters of protest.
Complaints about imperial authority, demands that she follow the law, political reasons why certain criminals should be spared.
“What if the one you executed today was merely a pawn, and this one before you is the true culprit?”
“Then I should simply do as you’ve written in your previous protests, should I not?”
Punish them according to imperial law.
“Do not use Edeline to eliminate your political rivals.”
“Now, wait. That’s a misunderstanding.”
“And whether a Divine Trial takes place is not a decision I can make alone.”
“Then who?”
“The Saintess. I merely follow her will.”
Piter’s expression darkened as if he’d been struck from behind.
“Ah, so it would be faster to seek out Ysiel directly.”
Artiela’s eyebrow arched sharply upward.
“Can we see her now? I’ll explain the details to Ysiel myself.”
Piter, his face bright and eager, suddenly stepped forward. Artiela immediately raised her arm to form an iron wall between them.
“That is not permitted.”
“Ah, you need to verify me with the Holy Sword first, didn’t you?”
Piter rolled up his sleeves and extended his arm, as if urging her to test him at once with the blade.
But his knight immediately stepped in, his manner threatening.
“If you harm His Majesty’s person, I will not forgive it.”
“Pursel, step back. The Holy Sword only cuts the wicked, so there’s nothing to fear.”
“No, Your Majesty. Let me receive the test in your stead, and I will bring the Saintess.”
“If you can withstand it, so can I. I have never lived a shameful life.”
The two men vied with each other to volunteer themselves for the blade.
Artiela, standing with arms folded as she watched, let out a soft laugh and shook her head. The virtuous feared nothing, for they knew sacrifice for others.
“Both of you have passed the verification. You may enter.”
Artiela led them down a quiet corridor toward the reception hall. Before long, Ysiel came running toward them, her face pale with dread.
“Ati!”
Ysiel turned her sister around, checking her condition.
“Saintess?”
“Thank goodness. You’re still unharmed.”
“Yes? What did you think I was? I would never spill blood on sacred ground.”
Color briefly returned to Ysiel’s face, though her eyes still seemed unable to focus on the world around her.
“I saw the future.”
Speaking of such grave matters so openly in front of outsiders was unusual for her.
“A man with an ordinary face was going to kill you—”
Artiela quickly seized Ysiel’s hand.
“We have a visitor, Saintess.”
Ysiel belatedly looked around.
Piter then raised his hand and waved cheerfully.
“Hello, Ysiel. It’s been a long time.”
“I greet Your Majesty.”
Ysiel’s reply was cold, and Piter laughed with a sly smile.
“Still don’t like me, I see?”
“People who cause commotion at Edeline are not common.”
“I’ve already apologized, but if you insist, I can have it put in an official document.”
“What brings you here?”
“I’ve come to request a Divine Trial.”
Piter’s knight handed Ysiel a portrait.
But then—
“Who is this man with the unremarkable face?”
Ysiel’s face drained of color.
* * *
As the sun set that day, Artiela ventured into the Commercial District alone.
Dressed like an ordinary noblewoman, she wandered from place to place, gathering information.
Just because someone commissions you doesn’t mean you go swinging a Holy Sword at anyone. Seeing another person’s soul is never a blessing. Those ignorant of this truth grow frightened and end up deceived, like the Emperor today.
But since most people didn’t even know what the Holy Sword’s wielder looked like, she often received strange treatment when she came out to investigate in person.
“Duke Rupel? Why? Are you also sending a marriage proposal?”
“Even the imperial princesses have given up, and you think you’ll succeed? If you don’t want to be hurt, you’d better restrain yourself for your own sake.”
Especially the nobles watched her warily, regardless of gender.
“We don’t see him often, but even from a distance, he shines brilliantly.”
“Six months ago, he used his own money to repair a bridge that commoners use, the one that collapsed.”
“He fixed our roof too. He said he saw it crumbling as he passed by.”
She scraped together information even from the common folk, but found nothing particularly suspicious. If anything, only praise for the Duke accumulated.
‘Was it all a false accusation born of jealousy?’
The Emperor seemed like a better person than she’d thought, which only made her suspicious of the Emperor himself.
Yet simply returning felt wrong.
“That Duke Rupel—I saw him strangle you in your sleep until you died.”
After the Emperor left from their private audience, Ysiel had conveyed this ominous future with a face on the verge of tears.
“What? Me? Dead? Why? When?”
“I’m not sure. It didn’t seem to be during work…”
“Would any fool really try to harm the Holy Sword’s wielder?”
“Why wouldn’t they? Even mythology has such tales.”
“Ah, the Source of Darkness?”
The one who brings misfortune and calamity, driving the world toward chaos and destruction. A being of darkness that cannot coexist under the same sky as the Holy Sword’s wielder, who bears the power of light.
If that were the case, she had no reason to worry. Light never loses to darkness.
“Is the Duke the Source of Darkness?”
“I don’t know. If the Source of Darkness had been born, I would have sensed it. Still, let’s proceed cautiously with the Divine Trial.”
Ysiel seemed to want to postpone the Divine Trial.
That’s why Artiela had to slip away. The Holy Sword’s wielder, sworn to uphold justice, couldn’t pretend ignorance of a heinous person just to preserve her own life.
However, since no formal trial had been decided, the information she’d received from Ysiel was limited. Her discreet investigation had yielded no answers either. Whether an evil person wore the mask of a perfect saint, or he was genuinely a virtuous soul.
In that case, there was only one choice.
‘I have to strike first.’
If she did nothing, she’d only meet the predetermined future gracefully. She had to shatter it before it could arrive.
Artiela immediately caught a hired carriage.
“Take me to the front of Rupel’s Manor.”
“What? Rupel’s Manor?”
The coachman’s apprehensive expression told her something was wrong.
Artiela climbed directly into the seat beside the coachman.
“What’s the problem?”
“That Duke—he’s cursed, isn’t he? There’ve been all sorts of incidents and accidents at the ducal house, and in the end, all the family members died.”
Illness, accidents, mysterious causes—all occurred in the five years since he, an illegitimate son of the previous Duke, was recognized and entered the ducal household.
“And the women who came to the manor hoping to see the Duke? They’ve vanished. I even asked other coachmen, but none of them came back. Even if it was unrequited love, they’d come again at least once, wouldn’t they?”
The disappearance of women who sought out the Duke. Perhaps it was circumstantial evidence that Duke Rupel was behind human trafficking.
“Still determined to go?”
“Yes, hearing all this, I’m more convinced I need to.”
“You’re a courageous young lady.”
Shortly after, Artiela descended from the carriage. Then she observed the manor until darkness deepened.
‘It’s unusually quiet.’
Unlike other houses, this place and its surroundings were gloomy and desolate. Few rooms had lights on, and no one came or went. Unsettlingly so.
‘This is definitely suspicious.’
After all human presence had vanished, Artiela wound Aura around her legs and leaped over the tall wall with ease. She quickly located the Duke’s bedroom on the third floor.
Artiela climbed a large tree in front of the balcony and hid herself among the leaves.
‘The security is remarkably lax.’
Just then, someone emerged.
Rupel.
Hair dark as the night sky, eyes a vivid red and sharp, strong features, tall and well-proportioned, yet something in him stirred the instinct to protect.
The portrait, to be honest, had failed to capture him fully. The real thing was far more striking.
Though some details were rendered faithfully—particularly that luminous halo around him in the darkness, the way it seemed to glow and shimmer was remarkably lifelike.
Wait.
‘What? That’s an Aura.’
He was a concealed ability user. But something about his power seemed peculiar—wrong, even.
‘He’s using his Aura as decoration?’
No matter how she looked at it, all his Aura did was create a luminous halo around his beautiful face.

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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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