Chapter 6
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Donning the Mask
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"Ugh...!"
Back in my quarters, I clutched my ribs and slumped onto the bed.
A quick glance down at myself revealed a sight that anyone would call a complete disaster.
Blood seeped from between my slightly split lips with a fishy tang, but what was far more wrecked was the turmoil inside me.
"Ha..."
A hollow, self-mocking laugh slipped out.
It was I who had shoved that list of false confessions at her, insisting we had to save her.
I hadn't doubted for a second that it was the best way.
In the original story, Elena was destined to suffer under Damian's grip, lose her sense of self, and face execution.
I'd figured a saintess like her would gladly accept a little white lie to punish the wicked.
Arrogant.
And naive.
"You fucking idiot..."
Elena hadn't recited that list out of submission to my threats.
Nor out of hatred for anyone.
It was simply to save me—the one vomiting blood and getting beaten right in front of her.
That vile villain who tormented and mocked her—she'd thrown the dignity she'd cherished more than her own life into the mud to rescue me.
And I had betrayed even that last drop of warmth she'd squeezed out, staining her soul.
Swipe—.
The man in the mirror looked utterly alien, repulsively so.
The hubris that original knowledge alone would let me pull someone from hell without getting my hands dirty.
That half-baked mindset had boomeranged back as the cruelest price for Elena.
I'd wanted to save her by any means necessary.
But the result of my incompetence was devastating.
Her gaze as she looked at me still burned fresh in my mind.
"Never again... Never again will I let something like this happen."
Spilled water can't be gathered up.
I swept a hand down my face, brutally crushing the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
Stopping here would turn her sacrifice into utterly meaningless trash.
Over the ashes of my guilt, cold rationality and defiance settled like frost.
Now I understood.
To save someone, sometimes the savior had to become the monster themselves.
And bearing that burden was a job for me alone.
To wrench this toxic tragedy off its rails by force, I adjusted my mask once more.
11 p.m.
The time for my meeting with Mirabel was approaching.
I donned a black coat with trembling hands and straightened my clothes to hide my wounds.
Lukewarm notions of justice wouldn't carry me a single step further.
If Elena had discarded her dignity to save me...
Then I had to stake this life to end her tragedy.
I stepped out the door.
Vowing to myself never again to botch things with that soft arrogance.
The secret passage to the underground sewers reeked of damp moss and mold.
Pain radiating from my ribs spread through my whole body with every step, but I bit my lip and pressed into the darkness.
The far end of the sewers, where the remains of those executed at Camp 1 had been dumped for centuries.
I moved like a shadow along the water flow.
After crawling deep inside for a while, I reached an open space with a massive iron grate door.
'Mirabel's not here yet?'
As I brushed off the filth from my disheveled clothes, staring into the surrounding silence—
Shiiik—!
A sharp whoosh tearing the air, and a silver afterimage shot from the darkness.
"...!"
Thak—!
Just before the cold bite of steel reached my throat.
I barely twisted away, seizing the wrist holding the dagger.
Reflexively kicking out at the abdomen, the shadowy figure lunging at me slid backward.
"Urk?!"
Moonlight grazed the face of the figure steadying itself against the wall.
As expected, it was Mirabel.
"What... the hell...!"
Mirabel's bewildered voice scattered into the darkness.
Her shock was understandable, in a way.
Even if my senses were dulled from crawling through the dark passage until moments ago, no ordinary human could react to that speed.
But perhaps Damian's overwhelming power earlier had left such an impression.
Her killing intent-laden rush was crystal clear in my eyes, almost comically so.
And the key point was.
'As expected, she hasn't learned mana for infiltration.'
She lacked the suffocating pressure Damian had.
Back in the interrogation room, Damian's single gesture had sent me flying—not because my physical abilities were lacking.
The reason was mana.
The unique law of this world granting superhuman strength.
But I sensed no such aura from Mirabel before me now.
"Hoo... hoo..."
She was merely a human who'd mastered top-tier assassination techniques.
The pathetic rage I'd felt moments ago had already cooled to ice.
It was a strike laced with unmistakable killing intent—something she never would have done if she saw me as an ally.
"Is the Empire Intelligence Bureau's performance review over?"
Kwang—!
Gripping her wrist, I snatched her throat with my other hand and slammed her against the sewer wall.
"Guhk...!"
Water splashed behind Mirabel's back, her eyes shaking wildly with shock.
Until yesterday, she'd probably seen me as nothing more than an annoying rat.
So she'd lured me out here to kill me quietly, without a trace.
But from now on, she'd have to rethink that.
I shoved my face close to hers.
A drop of blood from my busted lip fell onto her cheek.
"You seem to think you can use me, but don't get it twisted. I'm the one using the Empire."
Seeing her cold features twist in pain, I released her coldly.
Mirabel braced against the wall, coughing harshly.
She didn't even think to draw her dagger again.
"You... Are you really the same Ian I knew?"
Rubbing her throat, Mirabel looked up at me in disbelief.
She was speaking formally to me now.
Meeting her eyes, a mix of fear and wariness, I tossed her the bloodstained parchment copy from my pocket.
"Cut the pointless sentiment and get to business. Here's the confession list signed by the saintess herself today."
"Cardinal Lorenz, Senior Priest Jerome... They're big fish the Empire Intelligence Bureau's been watching. But... she really confessed to colluding with them?"
"Yes. It's the product she personally offered to Damian."
"I... see."
Mirabel's face paled as she swallowed dryly.
I could intuit what that expression meant.
They already knew Elena was innocent.
Yet the Empire had stood by while she broke in the interrogation room.
'They were just debating how to snatch a tool about to be discarded by the Church.'
Hot killing intent surged, but I barely held it back.
"Soon, a massive purge and investigation of everyone on that list will begin."
"This place is about to get chaotic."
"Exactly. And that chaos is our opportunity. Perfect timing to start the groundwork for extracting the saintess."
I stared straight at Mirabel and added coldly.
She panted roughly for a moment before stuffing the list into her bosom.
"Fine. I'll play along with your plan. The Empire wants the saintess anyway. So, what do we get in return?"
To her question, I answered without hesitation.
"No other payment needed. Just get the saintess out of here safely. That's it."
"...The terms changed?"
Mirabel narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing me intently.
"Wasn't the original deal that we'd provide the power you need to take over this place? Now you're saying you'll forfeit all the Empire's promised benefits for just her escape?"
She trailed off, then smirked as if realizing something.
"What is it? Feeling guilty now, Mr. Interrogator who broke her yourself? You carved out her soul for that list, and now you want to play hero?"
Her every word stabbed like a dagger into my heart.
But I couldn't show it.
"Spare me the amateur analysis."
I cut off her taunt with a flat voice and handed her the prepared note.
"Prepare the items listed here. By our next contact."
Mirabel took the note, staring straight into my eyes.
Her suspicious gaze stung.
"What the hell are these for?"
"None of your business. They're not particularly valuable to you anyway."
I stepped closer, my voice laced with killing intent as if answering her earlier jab.
"And don't misunderstand. If the Empire pulls any tricks in this deal or treats the saintess like disposable trash..."
I slammed my hand against the wall near her nape, pressing in aggressively.
"Then I won't let the Empire or the Church get away with it."
Mirabel's pupils trembled faintly for an instant.
Thwak—!
"Survive first. It'd be a problem if my tool breaks before the master."
She slapped my hand away roughly, tossed me a glass vial from her bosom without a care, and vanished into the darkness.
The vial I caught swirled with thick, red liquid.
The same low-grade Recovery Potion from the Empire that I'd once forced into Elena's mouth to save her.
"..."
I uncorked it and downed the liquid, more acrid and bitter than blood, in one gulp.
As the effects spread, my body eased, but the lingering bitterness sharpened my memories instead.
Crang—!
I hurled the empty vial against the dark sewer wall, shattering it.
Spitting blood-mixed saliva on the ground, I straightened up.
I'd regretted enough already.
Now, all I had to do was pave her escape route from this place.
How much dirtier my hands got in the process didn't matter.