The Villain Who Will Kill Me Is Too Handsome, It's Troublesome - Chapter 42

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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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Episode 42.
The reason Artiella had pitied him and cared for him until now.
“Your Grace’s soul is so pure it’s almost blinding, you see? Because you’ve committed no sins at all.”
His soul bore the same appearance as his body.
She’d said it was because he hadn’t even harbored sinful thoughts in his heart.
But the reality was far different. He was sick of his wretched life—he’d harmed himself often enough, and he’d entertained extreme thoughts and acted on them more than once.
What greater sin could there possibly be?
Yet his soul remained clean, and it was all because of the Source of Malice.
‘The Source of Malice wasn’t in my body at all—it was growing stronger by feeding on my negative desires.’
A good soul’s corrupted heart. It was excellent sustenance. Even after he’d driven the shadow away, as long as it remained tethered to the Source of Malice through that curse or Black Sorcery or whatever it was, it could gorge itself on him without needing to claim his body outright.
And so he needed Holy Power all the more desperately.
Hadn’t Artiella and the Saint driven out the Source of Malice with that very power? Then he too would need it if he was to protect himself.
“Speaking of which, how does our captain’s Aura never deplete, but then exhaust themselves with Holy Power?”
“The quantity might be small, but perhaps the purity is extraordinary? So while they repel evil without difficulty, exhaustion would naturally follow.”
Listening to the Holy Knights’ conversation only deepened his conviction.
The Aura within his own body was a power his mother had left behind to protect him, or so he’d been told. Perhaps the reason she hadn’t passed on Holy Power instead was that strength worth having must be forged by one’s own hands.
“Please don’t worry so much, Your Grace. Since your soul is so pure, your Holy Power will fill up in no time!”
It was then that one of the Holy Knights, noticing his despondent expression, offered words of comfort.
The words were anything but comforting.
“Really, you say?”
The Holy Knights made a fuss when they saw Kirien’s face grow darker still. But he only sighed more deeply.
“If you’re accepting me as a fellow knight, shouldn’t you simply use my name, given that I’m the youngest?”
“Ah? Oh, well, that’s…”
But out there in the world you’re a Duke, you see. Most of us are Holy Knights of common birth.
As they hesitated, Kirien sighed once more, profound and weary.
“It seems I am not truly your comrade after all.”
“Ah, no! Kirien!”
“Truth is, I’ve been wanting to call you that too, Kirien!”
At his smile, they grinned widely and walked toward where the carriage awaited.
Artiella was already inside the carriage with Yusiel.
“We’ll be riding on horseback, but what about you, Duke—I mean, Kirien?”
“I think I’d prefer not to ride…”
He glanced toward the carriage.
Naturally, horsemanship had no place in his life. He’d learned a little once, but that had been mere strolling about the front garden. Long-distance riding was beyond him.
Besides, his clothes were hardly suited for it.
“I’ll take the carriage I arrived in.”
The Emperor was blocking the entrance to the carriage Artiella had taken, so there was no chance of boarding it.
Facing him seemed as though it would be painful. Looking at his face, he feared he’d entertain terrible thoughts again.
He needed to exercise restraint now. Not until he’d grown strong enough to protect himself and lighten Artiella’s burden.
But he should confess to the Saint, shouldn’t he?
He was the sort of person who treasured his younger sibling so dearly that even now he’d kneel before her in such distress and agitation.
‘Would the siblings accept me, knowing the entire truth?’
Kirien quickly pushed aside the negative thought.
He would have to be more careful going forward.
He understood now that every time he entertained wicked thoughts, the Source of Malice stirred—so he mustn’t succumb to temptation again and feed that creature with his own power.
He drew in a deep breath.
“I shall take my leave now, Your Majesty.”
It was then that Yusiel’s parting words came, spoken without even glancing at the Emperor.
“Yes, and do send word when Artiella wakes. Let me know how she’s doing.”
“…I will.”
“And tell me about her arm too. The Temple surely won’t fail to treat it, but if anything should go wrong, I’ll take responsibility. It happened because I was the one who called her out to the Imperial Hunting Grounds.”
Only then did Yusiel look toward Petier.
“You’re saying exactly the same thing as before.”
What the Emperor had said on that day when Artiella had eaten Petier’s snack and become addicted to it.
“Back then too, the aftermath fell to my mother to handle.”
Yusiel’s gaze grew piercing.
She had been there that day as well.
She remembered distinctly the wavering in Petier’s eyes when Artiella had eaten the cookie. He had seen and done nothing to stop it.
Because once Artiella collapsed, the sisters’ mother, who maintained neutrality, would have to step in.
“So I’ll handle the aftermath this time too. There’s no need for concern.”
Yusiel tightened her grip on her sister’s hand and gazed out the window with a slightly mischievous expression.
“Oh, Duke Kirien. You should join us as well.”
At the sudden invitation, Kirien, who had been heading toward the carriage behind them, stopped in surprise. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded firmly and turned around with confidence.
“It’s spacious and comfortable here. It will put both our minds at ease to have you where we can see you. Please, sit across from us.”
“Yes, thank you.”
As he bowed his head, Petier let out a displeased sound.
In that instant, Yusiel’s eyes flashed.
Even as the carriage door closed, her gaze lingered on Petier for some time.
* * *
The moment Yusiel returned to Edelion, she convened the Priesthood once more, gathering all its members except those occupied with purifying the Imperial Palace and the Imperial Hunting Grounds.
“But why is the Holy Sword’s wielder in such a state?”
“Goodness, this is the first time I’ve seen our spirited one so utterly drained.”
“This doesn’t look like mere exhaustion, does it?”
The priests gazed at Artiella with worry etched across their faces. Once they learned of her condition, they rushed forward, each eager to assess her state first.
They all arrived at much the same diagnosis as Yusiel.
It seemed to be an ancient curse. Yet no one knew precisely what it was.
“The Sacred Tree doesn’t know either?”
“It granted us a vision, but as matters stand now, it’s impossible.”
“Impossible?”
“Either the one who cast the curse must lift it, or we need the lost Tears of the Goddess.”
“This is…troublesome.”
All wore expressions of distress.
This had occurred before the current Priestess took office. The Priestess of that time had long since passed. So if anyone bore responsibility, it fell to those priests who had known of the matter yet failed to resolve it then.
But then, one priest examining Artiella spoke up.
“This aura feels familiar somehow.”
“Have you encountered the Source of Malice before?”
“No. I mean the mark left on the Holy Knight Commander’s arm. Isn’t that Holy Power?”
“Yes, it does seem so. Though it’s corrupted Holy Power.”
“I see. That must be why the Sacred Tree told us to seek the Tears of the Goddess.”
Yet the priest continued tilting his head in confusion.
“But this… I have a feeling…”
“What is it? Do you know something?”
“Could it be that Bertia has returned?”
At that question, Kirien reacted.
“My mother was said to have passed away.”
“Oh, was that lady the Duke’s biological mother?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Is that so? Then it’s rather a relief. Indeed, a knight of such strong will could never have her Holy Power corrupted like this. Might I suggest, Your Priestess, that we compile a list of excommunicated priests and Holy Knights?”
It was not a poor suggestion.
Even if the Source of Malice were responsible, the power itself clearly came from one who once wielded Holy Power. So if they found the original bearer, they might uncover a thread of truth.
“Please, I’d be grateful.”
At Yusiel’s request, the elderly priests, tapping their lower backs as they went, scattered with purpose, dragging young Holy Knights along one by one, lamenting that their eyes weren’t what they used to be.
Yusiel remained beside Artiella.
They had brought a long bench and laid her beneath the Sacred Tree.
“You certainly sleep well.”
Yusiel, wearing a mischievous expression, tapped Artiella’s forehead with a soft thump.
“Ow, gently, please.”
Artiella opened her eyes halfway, speaking drowsily.
“When did you wake up?”
“Are you alright?”
Artiella slowly raised herself up, her movements sluggish and weak.
At that, Yusiel burst into tears and pulled Artiella into her arms.
“I was so worried about you, you fool.”
“Ah, don’t cling like that! I’m still dizzy!”
Artiella reflexively reached for the tree trunk to steady her upper body.
“Hm?”
But the moment her problematic right hand touched the Sacred Tree, its leaves rustled and fell around her head.
Within those leaves dwelt a vision.

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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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