Chapter 7
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 7
If that was his plan, he had chosen the wrong target. A sacrifice had to be innocent, and considering the weight of the sins Canna carried, the man was a fool. Even if he killed her, his wish would never be granted.
The man slit Canna’s throat as he hummed a cheerful tune. She put her own lyrics to it—a prayer for his most miserable death.
If that was too much to ask, she prayed that at the very least, her death would be of no use to him. That whatever he had summoned would grant him nothing.
And then, once more, salvation appeared.
With a thunderous crash, the door was smashed open. Moonlight crept across the floor through the gaping threshold. The door was open. It might not have been the window her sister had mentioned, but it was unmistakably hope.
Draped in moonlight, the snow-white woman who appeared was the very image of the angel the man had been raving about.
‘Sister!’
When her sister emerged from behind the woman, Canna felt her heart stop. The sheer relief of seeing her face drained the strength from her entire body.
* * *
The woman was none other than Evangeline Rohanson, the one who had given her sister the holy water.
Canna was struck dumb by the realization. This was the person I felt inferior to? No, is she even human? The man, Donau, didn’t doubt for a second that he himself had summoned Evangeline. In truth, seeing the spectacle before her, Canna had no choice but to believe it too.
“You said your name was Canna, right? What should I do with Donau?”
The moment Evangeline looked at Canna, other eyes began to stare at her as well. Dozens of them bloomed in the air, forming a spherical cluster that blinked in unison.
The sight of countless eyeballs being covered by lids and opening at once made them seem like a single organism. Eyelids? No, they were pulsating—more like lumps of raw flesh than skin.
And it seemed only Canna and the man could see them.
Suspended in the air behind Evangeline, strangled by an invisible force, the man looked as if he were about to pass out as the eyes blinked right in front of his face. Her sister, however, seemed to see only the man. If she could see those dozens of clustered eyes, there was no way she could remain so calm.
“Should I lock him up forever?” Evangeline, the being the man had supposedly summoned, asked Canna for her opinion.
Canna shook her head.
“How is your throat?”
“It’s fine!”
The eyes glared at Donau’s neck. When Canna gave a positive response, Evangeline nodded, and the eyes curved brightly as if pleased.
With a creak, the man’s body began to move. He tried to resist the intangible pressure forcing his limbs, but it was useless. He had looked so joyful when aiming a knife at someone else’s throat, yet now that the tip of his own blade was pointed at himself, he looked ready to piss his pants.
His arm was being forced inward while he fought to push it out. Unable to withstand the conflicting forces, his bones twisted with an audible snap. As his resistance weakened from the pain, the knife moved without hesitation.
The man pierced his own throat. He had no will in the matter, but that was how it appeared to the multitude of spectators watching the scene unfold.
‘More, more!’ Canna urged them on internally, and as if they’d heard an encore, the sequence repeated.
“Did you see?”
“Yes. He stabbed his own neck.”
It continued until the man could no longer endure it.
“Sorry,” Evangeline said, her tone reproachful as if scolding the man for failing to satisfy Canna. “He ended up dying.”
Canna decided to act humble. “It’s alright. This is enough for me.”
It was more than enough.
She understood perfectly why Evangeline had forced the man to stab his own throat. Suicide was a mortal sin. God granted no mercy to those who threw away the life they were given.
Abandoned by Evangeline, the man would now be abandoned by God as well. And there was only one place that would take in such a soul.
Fire erupted behind him. The flames of hell had come to greet their new resident. A wave of heat washed over Canna’s face, feeling as warm as her sister’s embrace, as comforting as the midday sun.
* * *
Donau was surrounded by a brilliant light.
My house isn’t this bright.
All he owned was a single candle, and one candle couldn’t possibly produce such a glow. Come to think of it, the chandeliers in the Rohanson mansion had been this radiant, with numerous candles sitting atop their magnificent branches.
Yes. This was the light of a chandelier. It was Evangeline Rohanson. The demon Donau had summoned had granted his wish! It had come true, and he was now standing beneath the mansion’s grand chandelier. To think he could enjoy such wealth and honor for the price of a single girl’s life—it was a damn good trade.
Donau thought about what he would do next. There were countless things he wanted to do now that he was a noble, but the first thing that came to mind was a very specific task.
He would find Count Rohanson, the man whose title he had stolen. Then, he would strike the Count just as he had been struck and look down on him with pathetic eyes. Donau hummed to himself as he walked toward the light.
The sphere of eyes floating in the air blinked, staring at Donau’s receding back. If he had only turned around, he would have seen them watching him, but he never did.
* * *
I was watching Donau’s house burn down when the surroundings grew noisy. It seemed the neighbors had noticed the smoke and come out. To evacuate? No, seeing as they were all just standing there watching it burn, they probably just came for the show.
Regardless, knights arrived quickly, either because a conscientious citizen had reported it or because they’d seen the smoke on patrol. They immediately began to clear the area.
As expected of a RoFan world, their white dress uniforms and matching capes were incredibly flashy. Among them, the most dazzling man approached me. Hena stepped forward to block him, but I patted her shoulder, telling her it was okay.
“Excuse me.”
As the man bowed his head in greeting, his jet-black hair flowed smoothly. When he looked up, his sharp blue eyes and handsome features were revealed.
Whoa. Why is he so handsome? He had a blunt voice and a cold demeanor, but he was so ridiculously good-looking he could make me hallucinate memories I never had.
Wait… I’m getting a bad feeling about this.
A handsome, cold, black-haired knight? In a world where the Crown Prince is middle-aged and there’s no Grand Duke of the North, isn't the next candidate for Male Lead usually the Knight Commander? No, let’s not jump to conclusions. I don’t know if he’s the commander or not.
“I am Gabriel, Commander of the Pararos Knights.”
Holy shit, he said he’s the Commander. He must be the Male Lead!
“What brings a Young Lady to a place like this? It doesn't seem like a suitable spot for a stroll.”
Young Lady? Surely we aren't already acquainted? I trembled inwardly for a moment before realizing he had just introduced himself. Phew… I guess we don't know each other yet. He probably just called me ‘Young Lady’ because I have a maid with me and, well, Evangeline looks like a noble to anyone with eyes.
Besides, if he were an acquaintance of Evangeline’s, he wouldn't be acting this polite. Male leads usually loathe villainesses with a passion. After all, for a villainess in a regression story, getting her head chopped off is practically a daily occurrence.
The only villainess a male lead likes is the protagonist-type who possesses the body and goes down the path of repentance. Wait, does that mean I’m included in that?
I’m a possessor, and I’m on the path of repentance. Do I just have to say the line, “Why do you like me instead of the female lead?!” now? I’m finally starting to feel like I’ve been transmigrated into a RoFan novel. Now that I think of him as the male lead, even his cold expression seems to hide a tragic backstory. But even though he’s handsome, maybe because he’s a fictional character, I don't feel any romantic attraction. Does this make me a failure as a RoFan protagonist?
The male lead furrowed his brows. Ah, right, I have to answer him. What did he ask? Why I’m here?
Since this is our first meeting, I should answer as sincerely as possible. This is the turning point that decides whether my head stays on my shoulders. Let’s go, Villainess Escape!
“I didn't come for a stroll; I came to find someone.”
“Someone?”
“The owner of that burning house is my servant.”
“And did you find this servant?”
“Ah. He’s inside.”
It had been so long since I used formal speech that the awkwardness made my skin crawl. I pointed at the blazing house, acting as if it were nothing.
The building is collapsing; surely he’s not going to be so righteous as to try and save him, right? Worried, I quickly added more.
“He’s already dead, so don't worry about it.”
At those words, the male lead’s expression soured even further. Did I talk about someone dying too calmly? But Donau deserved to die!
“I believe you’ll have to explain how you know that, My Lady.”
Explain? Well, I suppose he needs to know who died and what caused the fire to write his report. But where would I even start? Would he understand if I told him Donau committed suicide and summoned a fire spirit that set the house ablaze?
What if, because of Evangeline’s notoriety, I get framed for killing him and setting the fire to destroy the evidence? That’s a very real possibility. Is my Villainess Escape already going down the drain?
While I was agonizing over how to explain, Canna stepped forward.
“Sir Knight! I will explain!”
This girl, smaller than me, stepped up as if to protect me. Her back looked so gallant that I felt tears of emotion welling up. Is she repaying me for saving her? Truly, you reap what you sow.
The male lead nodded, signaling her to speak.
“Donau, the Young Lady’s servant, kidnapped me.”
“Kidnapped? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. The Young Lady came to rescue me. My sister asked for her help, and she came right away. When we told Donau we had called the knights, he got scared and set the fire himself while trying to run away.”
“Then what about him being dead?”
“With flames rising like that, there’s no way he could be alive. The Young Lady and my sister were busy helping me escape, so we didn't have a chance to look after him.”
It sounded much more plausible than saying a suicidal man’s summoned spirit set the fire.
The male lead easily believed Canna’s words. He even showed genuine concern for her well-being. He looked much more relaxed than when he was dealing with me. Wait, could it be?
In an instant, the covers of all the RoFan novels I had ever read flashed through my mind. A red-haired, wavy-haired female lead and a black-haired male lead?
‘Holy crap. Canna was the female lead!’