The World Mistakes Me for Terminally Ill - Chapter 61

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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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The World Thinks I’m Terminally Ill Episode 061

 

11. Belated Bridal Lessons

 

A few days after the Imperial Palace’s official announcement.

 

Finally, the House of Angels incident that had swept through the Empire’s spring came to an end.

 

“Criminal Shasha Lert is sentenced to lifelong hard labor!”

 

The Court issued an unusually swift verdict, considering that many people had suffered damages.

 

Of course, this was the result of the Court, which had been burned by Shubel Runein, moving quickly to cover up their own mistakes, but ordinary people didn’t need to know that much.

 

Thud-!

 

A rotten egg flew at the transport carriage carrying Shasha away.

 

“What saint! You’re just a fake saint!”

 

“Booooo!”

 

“Give me back my money! You witch!”

 

Countless people came out to the streets to watch the transport of this notorious swindler.

 

Shasha, whose pristine beauty had been completely ruined from interrogation that bordered on torture, muttered with her hair completely disheveled.

 

“No, I, I was framed. The fake saint is that bitch Elisia. I am…”

 

“What is that witch saying?”

 

“My cousin sister who personally donated 10 billion for sick children is the saint, right?”

 

“She’s slandering that terminally ill person?”

 

“A saint is a saint. Not a fake, but a real saint.”

 

The soldiers guarding the transport carriage somehow understood Shasha’s words and sneered.

 

Shasha fell into complete despair at the situation where no one believed her words.

 

“Don’t you need to watch?”

 

Shasha, transported from the capital, returned to the Northern Region where she had been captured. This was because she was assigned to the labor camp at the mine here.

 

For reference, Degen Lert, who was also sentenced to life imprisonment for the crime of slandering nobility, was also doing hard labor at the same place.

 

What kind of situation would unfold if the Lert father and daughter, whose trust relationship had already been shattered, were to reunite.

 

I watched Shasha being dragged to the labor camp at Shubel’s question, then turned around.

 

“Since we’re both uncomfortable seeing each other’s faces, what’s the point of watching.”

 

I thought Shasha’s matter was settled like that.

 

Until one summer day, when I received a letter envelope along with news of her death.

 

[Die.]

 

From inside the letter envelope, a charred piece of a swan mask fell out along with a blood-stained message card.

 

According to the knight who delivered the death notice, she had pushed Degen off a cliff during an argument at the labor camp, then jumped down herself.

 

They said this was found among her few possessions.

 

As I stared at the writing done in blood because there was no pen, suddenly a large hand appeared from beside me and covered my eyes.

 

I felt someone take the card I was holding and said.

 

“You don’t need to take it away. I’m not that squeamish.”

 

“It’s bad for your eye health.”

 

Shubel said that and burned the message card.

 

I moved my hand to light a candle.

 

“I don’t know if there’s an afterlife, but let’s not meet in the next life, my cousin.”

 

A flame for the deceased burned for just one day.

 

I had forgotten about the swan mask piece…

 

An unexpected person discovered it placed next to the extinguished candle and said.

 

“Master, where did this come from?”

 

It was Erban, whom I had sent to work as a laborer at the construction site for a few days. He, who had been whining about how hard it was, rarely looked serious.

 

“I received it as a gift. Why?”

 

“It’s sorcery.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s very crude, but traces of sorcery remain.”

 

I raised my eyebrows.

 

Even Shubel, who had recently become as much of a workaholic as me, turned to look this way.

 

“Sorcery? Didn’t you eliminate all the sorcerers?”

 

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s not that high-level sorcery. I don’t know if they’re hiding, but… seeing that a method I thought was abandoned long ago was used, it seems like someone picked up an old book somewhere and imitated it.”

 

Erban muttered while examining the mask piece.

 

I became curious upon hearing that what I thought was an ordinary mask was actually a sorcery mask, so I approached that direction.

 

“Madam.”

 

“It’s fine. Want to look together?”

 

At my words, Shubel reluctantly approached as well.

 

Magic and sorcery.

 

Fundamentally, they’re the same in that they use mana to harness the forces of nature. The difference between the two is only one thing.

 

‘Sorcery uses sacrifices, while magic doesn’t.’

 

If magic can only exert power through the pure skill of the mage themselves, sorcery uses sacrifices to amplify power and creates masks to use.

 

That’s why in the era when sorcery and magic were used together, sorcery was sometimes called black magic.

 

“So what you’re saying is that whoever made this mask is a self-taught sorcerer?”

 

“Call them a black mage. It’s embarrassing to be grouped in the same category.”

 

Erban drew a line with a serious expression.

 

Certainly, from Erban’s position, who became a sorcerer after being forcibly implanted with fox blood sorcery, it was understandable that he’d be angry about someone clumsily using the power he had barely managed to suppress.

 

I readily corrected myself.

 

“Anyway, according to what you’re saying, this is a black mage’s mask. Is there a possibility that the person who wore this was the black mage themselves?”

 

When I asked if Shasha was a black mage, Erban denied it.

 

“If that were the case, it wouldn’t have remained as a physical object like this. No matter how crude the sorcery, the basics for a sorcerer is making their own mask.”

 

Erban created his fox mask. He added that when a sorcerer dies, the mask disappears with them.

 

He picked up the swan mask piece that had turned black from being charred.

 

“This is just bait.”

 

“Bait?”

 

“Bait to test how far their sorcery, no, magic has been perfected. The magic formula written on the mask is simple. Emotion amplification. It’s mental-type black magic that shakes people’s hearts.”

 

“…If it’s positive emotions, it wouldn’t matter, but if it’s negative emotions, it would be problematic.”

 

His words meant that a mental-type black mage was secretly spreading black magic masks.

 

‘Was there such an incident in the original work?’

 

I fell into thought for a moment.

 

The original work was basically focused on Shubel’s revenge, so other matters were rarely described.

 

The original Shubel’s personality was such that he didn’t pay attention to anything except what he had marked.

 

‘I appease one mastermind and something strange pops up.’

 

It felt like someone was whipping me saying ‘don’t think about resting.’ I clicked my tongue inwardly and said.

 

“Do I just need to be careful of the masks?”

 

“Yeah. This kind of incomplete black mage would have difficulty casting black magic without a medium.”

 

That was fortunate.

 

As could be seen from Shasha’s case, messing with people’s minds had to be handled carefully, no matter how weak the black magic.

 

Because small suspicions and inferiority complexes could become a great fire that drives one to death.

 

“Then I guess we need to investigate everything related to masks first.”

 

If masks that control emotions were circulating in the estate, the estate’s security and atmosphere would be completely destroyed.

 

This is a place I worked so hard to revive. I can’t let that happen.

 

I had to prepare in advance before an incident broke out.

 

When I took the swan mask piece, Erban, who had been serious until now, had sparkling eyes.

 

“Master, can I do it? I’m different from that crude black mage. Even if we fight, I’ll win.”

 

Winning or losing wasn’t the important thing, but I readily nodded.

 

Thinking he had escaped from manual labor, Erban cheered ‘Hooray!’

 

“Then you can investigate and work at the same time.”

 

Erban became depressed again.

 

“Master, this is Erban abuse.”

 

“Don’t speak in third person. It’s disgusting.”

 

“No way, no way. I won’t do manual labor. I’m going to quit.”

 

“What was on the menu today again.”

 

“Do you think I’d fall for something like that? …What is it?”

 

Upon hearing about roasted whole pig, Erban disappeared into the dining hall with gleeful laughter.

 

True to his former assassin nature, he moved at a speed where even his shadow couldn’t be seen.

 

‘How did someone so simple-minded ever manage to take over as head of the underworld.’

 

As I was thinking this to myself, I felt an obvious gaze from beside me.

 

When I turned my head, Shubel had grasped the mask fragment as if wrapping my hand.

 

“My lady, do you prefer impudent younger men?”

 

Cough.

 

At the voice that settled softly by my ear, I unconsciously choked.

 

When I made a bewildered expression, Shubel naturally took the mask fragment.

 

He placed it down on the table. After startling me like that, he himself looked so composed that it irritated me.

 

“Yes, I do like them. Why?”

 

Lately, I’d been acting uncharacteristically flustered in front of Shubel, which I didn’t like, so I spoke while looking up at him defiantly, pretending to be more confident.

 

He quietly looked down at me like that before opening his mouth.

 

“Then should I call you ‘noona’?”

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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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