Chapter 138
Chapter 138
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Accident (2)
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‘...Boring.’
Serath barely suppressed a yawn that was about to burst out.
Since she had infiltrated Elpante as a student, she couldn’t completely skip classes, so picking a few lectures to attend was inevitable. That was why she was forcing herself to sit in this classroom, listening to this utterly useless explanation.
‘This is the empire’s top educational institution?’
She had come to this advanced lecture expecting something substantial, but the professor in front of her was droning on about nothing but the basics of divine power manipulation.
Sure, comparing it to the Holy Kingdom—the true masters of such abilities—might be overly harsh, but even so, this level was downright disappointing.
For someone of her caliber, this lecture was practically a waste of time. Yet the sole reason she stuck around this academy was one thing.
Ultimately, one single person.
“-And so divine power is subdivided into various ranks, from basic blessings to the miracles above them, with the highest rank being none other than the angel’s grace—”
“...”
Angel’s grace.
Serath tilted her head slightly, expressionless, pondering the term that had just slipped from the professor’s mouth.
She had encountered something related to it just recently, after all.
“...”
A deep sigh escaped her inwardly.
At first, she had planned to deal with that man casually and return straight to the Pontiff. But things had gotten complicated.
Starting from the mysterious ‘pulsing’ she had felt, that man had casually mingled with an angel—the very being the Church revered as God’s apostle.
“...”
And if there was no manipulation or trickery involved in that scene.
She couldn’t eliminate him.
According to doctrine, those who could interact with angels were people of devout faith.
But if that were the case, then the Pontiff himself—who had ordered her to kill the man—would be in error.
‘...What the hell is going on.’
She rubbed her throbbing temples.
That man was a headache for the Pontiff, and the more she observed him, the more bizarre aspects piled up—
“...!”
Serath’s eyes widened slightly at the sudden sensation. It came from near her chest.
It had been happening unusually often lately.
The same pulsing she had felt near that man before now surged through her body just from thinking about him.
Especially when she deliberately tried to ‘belittle’ him in her mind.
She had no idea what it meant.
But it was as if something inside her was forcibly warning her.
‘Don’t badmouth that man.’
Do it, and you’ll regret it for sure.
It was remarkably similar to the sensation that had previously stopped her mid-stab, forcing her movements to halt.
‘...Don’t make me laugh.’
She scowled deeply and twisted her body slightly.
It was an involuntary reaction born of strong repulsion toward that sensation.
As if she couldn’t stand how it tried to manipulate her will by force.
‘The Holy Kingdom’s doctrine is flawless. The Pontiff His Holiness is too. That man can’t even compare.’
That was the reason she had fallen for the Pontiff the moment she met him and heard him preach his ideals.
The world the Pontiff envisioned was nothing less than a true paradise for her—a realm of truth and purity.
An ideal world where no one faced discrimination.
A place where everyone could enjoy equal happiness, unbound by birth, race, or any innate barriers.
Compared to the Pontiff with such noble ideals, that man was nothing but a beast who put leashes on women and dragged them around—
“...”
She twisted her body again.
Her pounding chest now sent stabbing pains like repeated thrusts of a knife.
As if furious the moment she thought those words.
If she weren’t so accustomed to enduring pain, she might have screamed involuntarily.
‘...Am I possessed by a demon or something? What is this?’
At first, she had brushed it off as poor condition, but now it was undeniably strange.
Soon as class ended, she’d go to Vizla for an exorcism.
As she clutched her chest, lost in those thoughts, the professor continued his explanation before her eyes.
“-To the point where some scholars even interpret the birth of the first humans as the work of beings from the shadow realm.”
She gave a faint smile at those words.
Of course. Spot on.
And the Holy Kingdom, which had the closest ties to those shadow realm beings, was undoubtedly at the top of the continent’s hegemonic powers.
‘For once, an imperial human is saying something sensible?’
Serath thought that as she looked at the professor.
“But simply put, it doesn’t add up—they’ve made far too many mistakes for beings like that.”
The words that followed turned her expression to stone.
“Crude, repulsive subhumans who should be ashamed to be treated as equals to us true humans. If you meet an angel, ask why they even created trash like that.”
“...”
Laughter rippled lightly through the surrounding students.
Serath desperately reined in the killing intent threatening to break through her facade.
Memories long buried over decades resurfaced from the depths of her mind.
The discrimination, humiliation, persecution, and oppression she had endured in the empire before crossing to the Holy Kingdom.
Even the most precious thing she had ‘lost.’
‘...Vile scum.’
She glared with contempt at the humans around her, smirking.
Subhumans.
Those who resembled humans but also bore traits of ‘other races.’
A term typically aimed at beastkin, commonly called bipeds.
Aside from minor physical differences, they were indistinguishable from humans, yet the empire rejected and discriminated against them utterly.
Narrow-minded, repulsive humans who, unlike the Holy Kingdom, only accepted pureblood humans as kin.
“Class dismissed. Submit assignments to the TA by next time.”
With that, the students rose noisily, chattering away.
Amid them, Serath calmly packed her writing tools and textbook, expressionless.
Unlike others, she had no friends or acquaintances here, but she felt nothing about it.
Her student identity was just a disguise. Once she handled Dawood Campbell matters, she’d discard it.
So, as usual, she’d tidy up casually and head out to gather more intel on that man.
Normally, that’s what she would have done.
“Hey.”
But today, a group approached her out of the blue.
She narrowed her eyes, scanning the humans before her.
A seasoned assassin could glean vast information from a first impression alone. Someone worthy of the Grand title, even more so.
Male student. Proudly wearing a pendant engraved with his family crest around his neck.
A well-trained body, combat skills diligently honed—his movements showed no openings.
After sizing him up, Serath nodded inwardly with serious appraisal.
‘...Can ignore.’
Trained, sure. But just that level.
To her—who could handle even regular knights without a scratch— he was cannon fodder she could dispatch with a single finger.
“What’s your busi—”
“Not interested.”
Before he could finish, his scowl deepened at her curt reply.
Normally, he’d snap about her rudeness, but this was Elpante. An institution of perfect equality where even royals entered as mere students and couldn’t throw their weight around.
He swallowed his anger and spoke again, plastering on a friendly smile.
“...I’m Brix Chester, eldest son of the Chester Count family. I came with a proposal.”
“...”
The vibe screamed, ‘You can’t ignore our family name.’
Her mental directory unfurled.
Personal intel on dignitaries from all nations—one of an assassin’s core skills—scrolled through her mind.
‘Chester Count family...’
Mid-tier nobles, straddling the line between major and minor aristocracy in the empire.
Impressive enough to boast against riffraff.
“...What.”
Still small fry to a Grand Assassin.
She could wipe out the whole family in a day.
Irritation plain on her face as she spoke, his expression crumpled again.
One would expect retreat or anger by now, but he cleared his throat and pressed on.
“You hiding your skills or something?”
“...What?”
“I mean, you’ve trained professionally in combat, right?”
“Nope.”
“You can hide your presence, but not your body’s contours. Muscle density, condition, development—all scream bone-grinding, flesh-shredding training.”
“...”
Not letting it go easily, huh.
Serath sighed inwardly.
“...I know some self-defense.”
“Hey, come on. I’ve wielded a sword since age seven as the count’s heir. No need for games.”
“What do you want?”
“...”
Brix smirked faintly at the sharper edge in Serath’s voice.
“...In the upcoming aptitude evaluation, there’s someone I want handled.”
“...”
“Let’s do a job together. Compensation will be generous.”
“...”
Disgusting.
Only the Pontiff could hire her. Small fry like this weren’t even worth acknowledging normally.
‘...Wait. A count family...’
But.
A sudden thought crossed her mind.
“...You know Dawood Campbell?”
If he had useful info on that man, she’d take it.
He was from a noble line with some standing, here longer than her. Might have access to intel she lacked.
But.
At the name, Brix’s face twisted horribly.
“What a coincidence.”
His voice dripped contempt and loathing.
“The one I want handled is him.”
“...Oh?”
Suddenly.
A sharp twinge in her chest again.
Serath panicked briefly but kept it from her face.
Again.
This feeling.
Why did it surge every time that man came up?
“He’s a beast who insulted my father. Filthy, vermin-like trash.”
“...”
Again.
Chest stabbing. Pounding. Finally aching like knife thrusts.
The pulsing grew with every insult to that man.
“If you know him too, perfect. Every student here vaguely knows what a scumbag he is.”
And at the ensuing ‘impulse,’ Serath clutched her chest in shock.
Her whole body screamed.
Draw the dagger from her bosom now and stab this man. Shut that mouth.
Breathing quickened. Head spun. Vision blurred like smoke.
“...He didn’t seem that bad.”
She even uttered that.
‘What are you doing, Serath?’
What reason to defend him?
The thought flickered through her fading reason.
But amid it, fury boiled her mind independently, like her head was on fire.
It was like...
What to call it.
The emotion when the Pontiff—her master—was insulted.
That kind.
“What? Then you’re being fooled. He’s a sly snake.”
“...”
“So think of it as upholding justice.”
“...Upholding justice?”
At some point.
Her voice had gone icy cold, but Brix—busy badmouthing Dawood—didn’t notice and kept talking.
“Yeah. Teach him not to mess with the Chester Count family.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“Literal. Practical exams see rough incidents sometimes. Easy to call accidents.”
And.
“I’m going to kill him.”
At those words.
Her vision tinted ‘purple.’
Then.
-!
Blood sprayed.
Screams echoed everywhere.
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“Kyaaaaah—!”
“Qu-quick, get someone!”
The screams snapped her brief blackout.
Serath’s eyes flew wide, gasping raggedly.
‘...W-what did I just...!’
In all her years, from ascending to Grand Assassin to founding the Crescent Oath, she had never experienced this.
Much like when she tried to kill Dawood Campbell before.
Her body moving beyond her will.
As if someone else controlled it.
Only.
The severity was far worse this time.
“...”
Serath stared at her hand in horror.
Bloodied dagger. Brix collapsed before her.
And above all.
The stares fixed on her.
“...”
Disaster.
A massive incident.
Stabbing someone with so many witnesses present.
Cold sweat poured. Back chilled. Head reeled.
Her hardened emotional control kept panic at bay, but no matter her calm, no easy escape came to mind.
“...”
No.
One way existed.
A horrific but effective method flashed in her mind.
Something her usual self would never consider.
But in this ‘off’ mental state, it seemed irresistibly appealing.
‘...Just, eliminate them all?’
Kill everyone here.
No witnesses left, no one knows who did it.
And as if backing the thought.
Purple flickered in her vision again.
‘...Anyway, they’re all useless to that man, right?’
What did that mean? Why was she thinking this?
The question brushed past faintly.
But once more, the intense pulsing drowned her mind like spreading smoke.
These weeds, these nobodies here.
Meaningless. Worthless.
Clear them out—no issue.
The world should hold only what aids ‘Master.’ These are just obstacles.
“...”
And then.
The classroom door burst open. Serath’s eyes snapped toward it.
Ah.
It’s him.
Dawood Campbell.
“...”
Serath’s heart began to race.
Ah, yes.
Master.
She had to do what benefited that man.
‘...Wait just a moment.’
She’d clear out all the useless ones.
That must be what he wanted too.
As she raised her dagger again with that thought.
Dawood looked flustered, assessed the situation.
“...Ah, seriously.”
And sighed.
Resignation crossed his face unavoidably.
And.
The ‘crest’ on his chest began to glow.
‘...White?’
A captivating white that seized everyone’s attention.
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