The Villain Who Will Kill Me Is Too Handsome, It's Troublesome - Chapter 4

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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 4.
Artiela narrowed her eyes, wondering if she’d misread the scene. The result was the same. The Duke’s Aura was concentrated in his upper body—especially above his ribs.
If he were drawing on his senses to sharpen them, there should be some kind of consistent flow, but there wasn’t. This seemed to move independent of its master’s will.
Now that she looked closer, even the shimmer was irregular.
‘A fool blessed with natural talent?’
Her tension eased slightly. She’d assumed the Duke was searching for an intruder, but that wasn’t it at all. He’d simply come out for air.
Still, she couldn’t just leap out and start swinging a sword.
She couldn’t gauge his real strength. Besides, if there was nothing wrong with the Duke, the only problem would be the Temple. She’d approached without permission—Yusiel would scold her thoroughly for that. And that thought terrified her.
She’d just observe his soul quietly.
‘Finish showing off your Aura and go back inside to sleep.’
The problem was he showed no signs of going anywhere.
He stood with his chin propped on his hand, gazing up at the night sky with a smile. The picture he made was like something from a painting—reminiscent of a storybook prince she and Yusiel had read together in childhood, giggling over the pages.
‘Even so, he’s someone who could kill me.’
Artiela shook her head briefly, trying to clear her thoughts.
“Ahem.”
Just then, she heard the Duke clear his throat.
“I know you’re there.”
His Aura still flickered erratically. Yet the Duke seemed entirely unfazed by the presence of an intruder.
‘Why isn’t he calling the guards?’
As a result, Artiela’s wariness reached its peak. The Duke’s reaction deviated far too much from what she’d anticipated.
‘An illusion after all?’
It made sense. Someone blessed by the gods with overflowing Aura couldn’t possibly not know how to control it by now. That would be a genuine waste of talent.
“To have gotten this far—you’re quite refreshing compared to the others. Skilled too.”
Whether from familiarity with assassination attempts or from concealing his abilities well, he seemed far too relaxed.
Still, his word choice was somewhat suspicious.
“You may be braver than most of the other young ladies, but some things simply cannot be allowed. Leave now, and we can pretend this never happened.”
‘Did an assassin disguise herself as a woman to infiltrate?’
It was a tactic used on men with a weakness for women—and it lent credibility to the stable hand’s account.
Artiela cautiously grasped the hilt of the Bardo.
Just then, a strong wind picked up. The irksome breeze swept away the leaves that had hidden her, and in an instant, their eyes met.
“You are…….”
There was no help for it. Since she was discovered anyway, she might as well play the assassin.
Artiela sprang upward, landing on the marble railing of the Balcony, and immediately pointed the Bardo at the Duke’s throat.
It seemed he hadn’t anticipated this. The Duke stepped back, eyes dropping to regard the blade at his neck. His lashes—unusually long and dense for a man—descended with elegant grace, then lifted again. A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“Ha, haha.”
He was laughing? Now? In this situation?
“Brandishing a sword and making threats won’t win hearts, you know. It’s a false sword anyway. And…….”
Suddenly his eyes turned melancholic. The glistening tears in those brilliant eyes suited the elegant face well enough.
“If you value your life, don’t come to see me again.”
Harsh words that didn’t belong on that innocent face.
“If you stay still, Rupel Duke, I……. Hmm?”
Mid-sentence, Artiela sensed something wrong and glanced down.
With a sharp crack, Artiela lost her balance. The marble railing beneath her feet was fracturing, and her body lurched backward.
“Oh!”
In that instant, annoyance flashed across the Duke’s face.
“That’s why I told you to leave! What do they think I am—someone worth risking their lives over?”
Was that concern?
She didn’t need that. A fall from the third floor wouldn’t kill Artiela.
‘No, actually—this is the perfect opportunity.’
If she confirmed things while he was distracted, the Duke wouldn’t remember properly what had happened.
Without hesitation, Artiela infused pale-green Aura into the Bardo. As the sword’s surface rippled with its characteristic patterns, the Duke’s soul became visible to her eyes.
‘What? It’s too beautiful?’
It was startling.
There weren’t even the faint traces of old sins that appeared in ordinary souls.
A beautiful soul like an archangel in a sacred painting. Save for Yusiel, she’d never seen one that shone so brightly.
Yet her carefully observing eyes came to rest on an unexpected place.
‘Why is the shadow so pitch-black?’
Shadow being dark was natural. But the Duke’s shadow was distinctly darker and deeper, as though it were being pulled into an abyss.
‘What is that?’
She sensed malice instinctively. The Bardo felt it too, crying out in a low, anguished note.
Artiela swung the Holy Sword at the shadow without hesitation, but the Duke blocked her path, and the blade glanced off his body before falling to the ground.
“Ugh!”
Instead, the Duke reached out and caught her falling arm.
“Hey, are you all right? No! Look at me! Come to your senses!”
Artiela’s body went limp in his grip.
It was the aftershock of a righteous soul colliding with the Bardo.
* * *
When Artiela opened her eyes, darkness surrounded her. The moment she steadied herself, groping for an exit—
“You’re awake?”
“Who’s there!”
Artiela cried out and drew her sword. Then came a mocking laugh.
“Going to judge me, Holy Sword Wielder?”
The Duke of Rupel? She recognized the voice and turned toward it.
A black shadow moved where the sound came from. The same deeply dark, ominous creature she’d seen from the Balcony. It walked toward her.
As it drew nearer, the shadow took on form—concrete enough that she could discern its nature without the Holy Sword’s power.
‘Revolting.’
The one she’d caught this morning was nothing compared to the monstrosity before her.
A tail like a lizard’s, eyes slit like a serpent’s, a protruding snout with jagged teeth and tusks, and its entire body covered in pustules. From the burst sores, countless maggots writhed, gnawing at the putrid flesh.
A creature like this was born wickedness itself.
‘The Source of Evil?’
The thing laughed with a foul, metallic rasp.
“You can’t judge me, can you?”
“Don’t know until we test steel against steel!”
Artiela fought down her revulsion and launched herself off the ground.
“By divine authority, I judge you.”
She spoke the words sharply and swung her blade with swift precision.
But the creature met her with overwhelming strength and speed, batting her hand aside. Her grip failed, and the sword slipped from her fingers.
The shadow creature twisted its mouth grotesquely and closed its hands around her throat.
“Guh—ugh.”
She should have listened to her sister and stayed put.
“Ah, such a delicious smell.”
“Argh!”
The creature drew out its long, nauseating tongue and licked her cheek as if sampling her.
‘No—this is infuriating!’
Defiance blazed to life. If she went down like this, she’d never hear the end of it from Yusiel—not even after death.
Artiela summoned every ounce of her Aura, concentrated her strength into her legs, and drove her heel into the shin of the creature that held her.
With a sickening crack, the thing staggered backward.
Despite the internal injury, it laughed with casual ease.
“Ha ha ha ha! Delightful, truly delightful. Go on, try your best. Of course, only if you can find the real me.”
Artiela quickly snatched up the Holy Sword and hurled herself after the fading creature.
“Where do you think you’re running!”
She stretched out her sword arm and lunged.
“My goodness!”
At the unfamiliar voice near her ear, her eyes snapped open.
“Are you awake, miss?”
A dream? Or a vision of what’s to come?
Artiela blinked. Warm sunlight filtered through, and she saw a marble ceiling above her.
Her own quarters had no ceiling this high, and she’d never hung pretty lace curtains around her bed.
“Where on earth am I?”
“In the Guest Chamber of Rupel Duke’s Estate.”
The woman who answered was a kindly-looking matron. She tucked a pillow behind Artiela’s back and helped her sit up.
“The Guest Chamber? But why am I—”
The moment came back to her: the instant she’d swung the Holy Sword incorrectly. This was a kind of punishment—and proof that her opponent was no villain.
Still, to lose consciousness in mid-air like that? It might as well have been a death sentence.
As Artiela frowned quietly, the matron gazed at her with concern.
“You came to confess your feelings to the Duke, but fell from an old railing. Do you not remember?”
“My feelings?”
Artiela’s eyes widened in confusion.
The matron laughed softly, as if finding her endearing.
“The Duke said he was deeply moved by your audacity and courage.”
The Duke seemed to be saying something peculiar, but Artiela only tilted her head, still at a loss.
Then the Lady took her hand gently.
“Congratulations, Miss.”
“I’m sorry—congratulations for what?”
“The Duke has agreed to accept your proposal of marriage.”
For some reason, joy bloomed across the Lady’s 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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