Chapter 91
Chapter 91
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: Violet's Unconscious #02
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Silence came suddenly.
Violet, who had been crying and covering her ears, opened her eyes in doubt at that silence and looked ahead. Was the nightmare finally over?
"Still, you only run away. Purplecrow."
The scenery depicting the academy's outdoor terrace had vanished before she knew it. Violet stood on a hill where everything lay destroyed and soaked in blood, gazing at the woman sneering at her.
"..Virtus, why you."
Violet easily befriended anyone with her gentle personality, but even she had people she disliked. Those who tallied goodwill as mere calculation, excelled at politics, and shunned no dirty tricks when needed.
Olga Virtus, the Northern Church's current saintess. She had never sat well with Violet.
The saintess robes she always wore to flaunt her status, her black hair gleaming like satin silk thanks to the nuns' special care. Her figure that relentlessly tempted Arthin with her body, her upturned eyes from constant sly smiles.
She who should receive love from all and bestow it upon all, yet fawned like a vixen at Arthin's side, sometimes even allying with Kaiyen to keep Violet in check. It stirred deep discomfort in her.
"I always hated you too, Violet. You were nothing but a hindrance to Arthin."
A hindrance? Only a hindrance! From anyone else, she might have had no retort, but not from you!
"Oh dear, what are you saying? Unlike you, I did everything to protect Arthin."
"...What?"
"I nursed his injuries, bestowed blessings, shielded him from political assaults. That was me, not you."
"That's because you seduced Arthin, insisting your miracles outdid my potions...!"
"When Arthin was seized by those deranged fanatic bastards, what did you do, Purplecrow? Even your vaunted Lord of Hell couldn't save him, could he?"
Violet's clenched fists trembled faintly, but Olga Virtus gazed at her with utter pity. Those eyes—always kindly crinkled in smiles, yet fox-sharp and unmasked toward her.
"So admit it. You're no woman for Arthin."
With that, Olga hooked her arm through Arthin's beside her, flashing a victorious smile. At the sight, dark, venomous emotions began gnawing at Violet from within.
"But... but because of you, Arthin was dragged to the church and killed!!!"
She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed. Realizing her words, Violet clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. What did I just say?
Olga's smile froze. Violet tried to stammer an apology, but no words came.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Arthin was indicted by the religious inquisitors. Charges abounded: demon worship, illicit necromancy experiments, demonic pacts despite not being a witch, blaspheming the divine and corrupting the saintess, sowing chaos across empire and kingdom.
After Richard's death, Imperial Princess Agnes—the empire's new heir—and Queen Marianne, successor to the late king, denounced the tribunal for targeting Arthin, who had quelled their realms' rebels and restored order.
When god-chosen hero Kaiyen, Republic Federation heavyweight Jorba Pelkas, and countless others rallied to his defense, the fanatic-dominated tribunal unveiled their prime evidence.
It was a love letter from "Saintess" Olga Virtus to Arthin—proof that Arthin Ludwig had stained the Northern Church's purest emblem with lust and impulse.
With evidence presented, intervention was impossible. The Heavenly Emperor's inviolable imperial laws upheld their investigative and interrogative rights, beyond even the emperor's reach.
"Don't worry, it's just a love letter—what can they do? We've beaten worse. Trust only me."
As empire and kingdom teetered toward schism over him, Arthin surrendered voluntarily to the tribunal. Violet, Olga, and many others begged him not to, but facing the Demon King's Army, he refused another human fracture and proceeded.
On the 27th day precisely, branded irrefutably corrupt—a fallen demon, the Demon King's spy—in a trial advanced two hours early, he was sentenced in three minutes and burned at the stake forthwith.
His allies, rushing upon word of the hastened proceedings, arrived too late. His torture-ravaged body was already aflame.
In his final moments, eyes dulled distant, Arthin saw none racing to save him. Amid comrades' furious hopes he might hear their voices, holy oil ignited him to ash in seconds.
Humanity fell thereafter. The Demon King's Army never stirred. Greed and madness sealed our doom. Thus ended the 3rd round.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Violet knew. From Arthin's surrender day, the saintess had wept in ceaseless prayer to god for three days and nights.
Resolved solely to save him, she confronted the pope alone, invoked angelic prophecy, and moved to expose the inquisitors' sullied purity—even ready to dismantle the Northern Church entire.
When Arthin burned, the woman beside her collapsed in shock. Despise her truly or not, for Arthin she gave her utmost. Violet knew this.
Thus, dream or no, those words were unforgivable. Olga's role in his death still rankled, but her sincerity forbade it.
"I-I'm sorry... Virtus, I shouldn't have said that..."
Forgetting it was a dream, Violet apologized to Olga's coldly impassive stare.
Olga rejected it outright, turning away arm-in-arm with Arthin. Naturally so—it was no true Olga, merely the dream demon's conjured unconscious nightmare.
Yet Violet's heart shredded worse. Kind-hearted as she was, accepting herself capable of such venom proved agonizing.
"....Sorry, everyone. It's because I'm so worthless. Because I'm rotten... I only wound you all..."
The nightmare inexorably devoured her. Stronger-willed women might withstand, but for Violet now, it was merciless torment.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I snapped awake as from a dream—and knew it for one instantly. Endless dream demon harassment ingrained RC (reality check) as habit.
My method: halting my own heart. Hard-won after scores of ordeals, it probed dream from reality undetected. Handy at last.
"Awake at last, Arthin-nim?"
Spotting me stir, Al'Miraz scurried to my side. Her scant sultan's dancer garb set her breasts bouncing distractingly.
"I've awaited this! We must delve deeper, but pink mist ahead bars the way."
Where she pointed, pink fog sealed the unconscious path—external blockade, pure dream demon craft.
"...Can't pierce it with your magic? Genie blood, yet stumped?"
"N-not stumped, holding back! Separation from you would doom us!"
Glib excuses, yet that mana hoard couldn't muster one arrow.
"W-what's that look! Doubting me?"
"Nah, just ~utterly trustworthy vibes."
As familiar, Al'Miraz shone solely at bedplay. Copper skin, flawless curves aside, her magic overload screamed less utility than an imp.
'Path first.'
Dream time lagged reality's. Waste none. Picturing Violet's agony, I neared the mist.
Crackle!!
Proximity birthed consciousness-scorching demonic surge. Potent enough to vex even me...
"Lilith fortified it tight. Losing Syrka near-loss scorched her."
"Syrka? Subordinate dream demon?"
"Spot on. Upper demon I snagged but lost. Would've tamed her."
"..T-tame an upper demon?"
Tsking rue, Al'Miraz eyed me warily—like I'd leash a hellhound. Overkill reaction.
Regardless, breach options. Brute mana punch viable, but slow irksome...
"Push with magic?"
"Nah.. hold on.. trick brewing..."
Ah, this'd slice clean.
On whim, hand to void, summoning inventory. It materialized. Works here?
'System GOAT—inventory in unconscious?'
Status useless, unchecked. Amazed inwardly, I withdrew the rune sealing dream demon Syrka.
"What's that, Arthin-nim? Stings..."
"Watch."
Rune trapped Syrka's power—power granted by Lilith. Slip through her aegis?
"Open sesame!"
Advancing, I cracked Syrka's power faintly at the pink veil.
──Rumble!
"Nailed it."
Fog cleft gradually, unveiling deep unconscious ingress.
"H-how?! Trivial demon or not, shattering Lilith's potent dream domain instantly..!! Incredible, Arthin-nim!"
I shot awkward side-eye at her clapping awe. Reactions screamed jingo YT reactor—burdensome. Deferential from jump; Mephisto ties?
"Ah, wait! Don't go alone!"
Fearing louder fuss, I wordlessly hauled Al'Miraz toward depths.
'Power signature screams deep lock-in...'
Perfect. Violet's off vibes all round begged this peek.
"Straight on? How far? How tight with Mephisto-nim? Human strength baffles..."
Endless prattle en route. Nonstop. Unicorn rethink?
"And those rounds, regressions you mention—spill?"
"...Yeah, due. Unconscious'll show anyway..."
Sharp query as I prepped spiel—dark expanse shifted, path-fringe scenery morphing.
"Huh, this scene..."
Familiar vista: sunlit academy terrace abuzz. We observed remotely.
"Violet, Shaomei... and?"
She squinted, naming terrace folk. Jorba unseen? Nearest blind spot.
"Me. Early 2nd round."
I eyed 'me' brooding tea-sips amid their cheer.
Awkward, standoffish—radiated here. Fresh from 1st round duo-grind with Shaomei; people-skills foreign.
"You?! Gloomy pint nerdling is Arthin-nim? Face, vibe total mismatch?!"
Fuck, brutal beside me. Worse: undeniable. Nerd incarnate then.
"Yeah... Violet, Jorba bailed me huge. Sans them, eternal gloom."
Drifted to reverie. 2nd round days...
"Ack! Past you spilled tea, flailing! Real deal? Nerdseed to Arthin.."
"Brain-break cease, fuck!!"
Smacked her ass mid-recall. Deep regret. Unicorn over brat.
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