Chapter 165
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 165
After spending a long time mulling over Bishop Marik’s attitude, Jeremia finally came to a conclusion. If Hena was a witness and Jelly was a hostage, then Azazel was simply manpower.
‘No, he’s a demon, so… demonpower?’
Working under Bishop Marik, Jeremia quickly figured out Azazel’s purpose. He handled all the dirty work that couldn’t be done under the official name of the temple or the bishop herself. To Bishop Marik, Azazel was nothing more than a tool, no different from a sword. And since this particular tool had eyes and a mouth, it was all the easier to command.
Acting as Bishop Marik’s hands and feet, he had killed people and committed every dirty deed imaginable behind the scenes. Jeremia consoled herself with the thought that this was all for Lady Rohanson.
Before Bishop Marik could drag another person before her, Jeremia teleported to the Rohanson Mansion. There, she devoured a massive amount of cherry blossoms. She had no idea how cherry blossoms could sate a demon’s hunger, but considering the tree’s owner, she simply assumed Lady Rohanson had worked some kind of magic on them and left it at that.
Bishop Marik looked pleased to see Azazel looking sleek and well-fed after gorging himself. Then again, with the bishop’s face hidden by a veil, Jeremia wondered how ‘Azazel’ was supposed to have noticed her smiling in the first place.
Bishop Marik's quarters were located in a corner of the temple. For a bishop, the room was cramped and worn-down. Sensing the age of the furniture, Jeremia quietly pried information from another priest and learned that Bishop Marik had been using the exact same room since the day she first set foot in the temple.
"The Bishop is truly frugal. She is a model for us all. I must admit, I am quite jealous of Sir Astaroth, who gets to assist her by her side at all times. Haha."
The priest who said this seemed utterly oblivious to the massacres Bishop Marik had orchestrated.
There was one more peculiar thing about the room. Bishop Marik would often use a secret passage to descend into the basement. She must have been hiding something she didn’t want discovered, as she never, under any circumstances, took Jeremia with her.
Taking advantage of a moment when Bishop Marik was asleep, Jeremia slipped down into the basement. Lying there was a patient who looked as if they could draw their last breath at any second.
Their skin was covered in pus and burn scars, their teeth were gone, and their fingernails hung loose. A rattling, phlegm-filled wheeze escaped their lips with every breath, each one sounding like it could be the last. It was a miracle they were alive at all.
Did this person and Azazel know each other?
"K-Kill... Azazel... kill..."
Though she couldn't clearly hear what they wanted killed, Jeremia assumed they were asking her to kill Bishop Marik. Unfortunately, she couldn't do that right now.
"I'll do it for you someday," Jeremia promised.
At her promise, the person closed their eyes in satisfaction. Wondering if they had died, she placed a hand under their nose and felt a faint breath. Fortunately, they had merely fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion.
Jeremia immediately left the basement. The corpse-like person must not have told Bishop Marik about her visit, as the bishop never asked if she had gone down there.
On her third day at the temple, news that Duchess Hosaquin was in critical condition spread like wildfire. The rumor was so widespread that even Jeremia, who was confined to the temple, heard it.
House Hosaquin was one of only three ducal families in the empire, and it was Evangeline's paternal family. Bishop Marik, who held a peculiar interest in the family, also caught wind of the news.
"It seems Lady Rohanson is planning something interesting."
Jeremia desperately wished Bishop Marik would lose interest in Lady Rohanson. Why did Lady Rohanson have to get entangled with someone like Bishop Marik and be made to suffer? It was true that Evangeline Rohanson commanded demons and was an unholy being, but Jeremia was, of course, entirely on her side.
"I can't just sit still, either."
Jeremia wished with all her heart that Bishop Marik would do exactly that—just sit still.
"Sir Azazel. There is somewhere we must go."
Her next move was decided without her opinion being asked. Posing as Sir Astaroth, Bishop Marik's loyal guard, Jeremia had no choice but to follow the bishop out of the temple. It was her first time stepping outside in a long while, and she had to endure a familiar burning pain.
Bishop Marik climbed not into a temple carriage, but into one that appeared to have been rented. It was a common model, the kind frequently seen on the streets. Only after taking her seat did Jeremia realize that, contrary to its exterior, the carriage was constructed from extremely luxurious materials, easily comparable to those used by the imperial princesses.
Why would she need a carriage that was only shabby on the outside?
Sensing something was amiss, Jeremia looked out the window. If they were headed somewhere strange, she planned to open the door and jump out. Azazel's body could easily survive a leap from a moving carriage.
After watching the passing scenery for a long while, Jeremia realized the carriage was taking an increasingly familiar route. A right turn here, then a left… if they kept going straight, they would reach the Imperial Castle—Jeremia's home, the place she had looked upon her entire life.
She wanted to ask why they were going to the Imperial Castle but swallowed the question, figuring the real Azazel wouldn't have bothered.
Before they disembarked, Bishop Marik began to change her attire. She removed her veil and took off her cape. Beneath it, she wore the neat uniform of an Imperial Palace maid. While a bishop disguising herself as a maid was shocking enough, what truly astounded Jeremia was Bishop Marik's face.
Her youthful appearance, which defied her age, was startling enough, but…
‘Why… why does Bishop Marik have the exact same face as Tenebrae’s maid?’
Even the burn scar near her mouth was exactly as Jeremia remembered. She felt a phantom pounding in her chest where her heart used to be. It was her. This was the maid who had lied to Jeremia, driving her to her death in the forest. In that instant, Jeremia understood with painful clarity that she had been nothing more than a plaything in Bishop Marik’s hands. The bishop had been deeply involved in her death from the very beginning.
‘Revenge can wait.’
Jeremia fought to keep her anger from showing on her face. Lady Rohanson would be the one to exact her revenge. Jeremia forced herself to calm down, focusing solely on the fact that she could now reveal a massive secret about Bishop Marik to the young lady.
Bishop Marik and Jeremia stepped down from the carriage.
"Sir Astaroth, you remember Tenebrae, don't you?"
"Ah, that princess," Jeremia replied vaguely, as if she barely recalled the name.
Bishop Marik chuckled—a giggle utterly unfitting for the woman she was supposed to be. "Please remember her from now on. She is the one who will soon become our Emperor."
But Jeremia’s younger brother was still alive and next in line for the throne. Even when Jeremia was a princess, he had been the one to receive all their grandmother's affection. Did she plan to kill Oratorio as well? Were they on their way to do it right now?
Contrary to Jeremia's fears, Bishop Marik headed in a different direction. This was… the path to Jeremia's palace.
Disguised as a maid, Bishop Marik entered the palace without any hindrance.
"Dame Musetta is currently guarding the Princess."
She was referring to Dame Musetta, who had been her father's guard. Was she now guarding Tenebrae, knowing full well Tenebrae had killed him? No, that couldn’t be right. Tenebrae was currently posing as Jeremia, and the Tenebrae who killed their father was believed to be dead. There was no way Dame Musetta could know the truth.
"I need Dame Musetta for a moment. While I borrow her, would you guard the Princess, Sir Astaroth?"
It was phrased as a request, but it was an order.
Posing as Azazel, Jeremia squeezed her eyes shut, horrified at the thought of meeting the sister who had betrayed her. It was a relief that Bishop Marik was walking ahead and couldn't see her expression.
"Very well. I shall keep her safe, without a single scratch."
Jeremia spoke nonchalantly. Now that she no longer had to act like royalty, she wanted nothing more than to grab Tenebrae by the collar.
After she spoke, barely suppressing her murderous intent, Bishop Marik replied casually, "I asked you to guard her, Sir Astaroth, but there is no need to go against your nature and worry about keeping her completely unharmed. Any injuries can be easily healed with holy water."
The underlying meaning was perfectly clear. This wasn't protection; it was surveillance. Therefore, there was no need to overprotect Tenebrae. As long as she didn't die, any wounds could be mended. However, since wounds inflicted by a demon could not be healed with holy water, it was also a warning not to lay a hand on Tenebrae directly.
Since the two had joined hands to kill her, Jeremia had assumed they shared a close bond. But to Bishop Marik, her sister was nothing more than a puppet to be placed on the throne. Jeremia found Tenebrae’s situation gratifying, yet a tiny, minuscule part of her felt a shred of pity.
Then again, it was rare for anyone not to be viewed as a tool by Bishop Marik. She was, after all, someone who tried to use the demon Azazel and even Lady Rohanson, who commanded demons, as mere chess pieces.
In that regard—viewing people as tools rather than human beings—she was actually quite similar to Lady Rohanson.
‘How dare I compare my benefactor to someone like her.’
Jeremia instantly reproached herself for comparing her benefactor to the target of her revenge and averted her eyes from the maid's back.
As they entered the palace, they immediately drew everyone's attention. It was only natural for the guards to be on high alert, given that a paladin—and Bishop Marik's personal guard at that—had appeared in a place as unfitting as the Princess's palace.
"Sir Astaroth?"
As if on cue, the head maid hurried over, having noticed the outsiders. It was a familiar face Jeremia hadn't seen in a long time. Before she could forget her current situation and show her joy at the reunion, the head maid bowed her head in a stiff, formal greeting.
"I have heard from Dame Musetta that you would be visiting."
Heard from whom? Jeremia doubted her own ears.
Why did Musetta know about something Jeremia herself had only just found out? She stole a glance at Bishop Marik, but the bishop’s face was as serene as a mask, even without her veil.
Jeremia ground her teeth inwardly. Her mind was a tangled mess as she tried to understand why she ranked lower than Musetta in the bishop's trust. She couldn’t tell if it was because Astaroth was merely a demon who only moved when ordered, or if Bishop Marik was already suspicious of the soul inhabiting his body.