Chapter 98

He shouldn't panic. He needed to stay calm.

The Yurik in this iteration only knew him as Arenheit.

So he didn't know about his possession, and was merely choosing him simply because he was annoying to him.

From the beginning, the protagonist of the novel was Leandros.

Someone like him had no business taking that place.

Above all, this wasn't the future he wanted.

"I don't understand what you're saying at all."

"I thought only Leandros could kill a god in the north. If I hadn't taken him, I would have thought it was Leandros, not the Duke, who killed it."

"Sir Nabilov, my escort knight, made a great contribution. Strictly speaking, I didn't kill it."

"But could Sir Nabilov have killed it alone? The Duke doesn't know that his escort knight has changed."

"I do know."

"No matter how skilled a person is, they can't gain such eyes on their own. Surely the Duke guided him."

This crazy bastard was interpreting things however he pleased.

"I won't oppose Your Highness the Crown Prince."

"Strange. When I saw you borrowing the power of the temple, I thought you were joining hands with them to bring me down."

"That's not it. The reason I made contact with the temple was rather to maintain balance between the nobility, the royal family, and the temple. Your Highness, I care for nothing but the well-being of myself and my people."

He wanted to live peacefully.

To pass on all positions like protagonist or whatever to others.

After helping to properly achieve the ending of this novel, he wanted to live quietly, buried from sight.

That was because no one cared about the life or death of supporting characters anyway.

A single line in the epilogue at the end of the novel, saying he lived happily ever after, would be enough.

But what protagonist?

However, after hearing what he said, Yurik blinked slowly.

The flickering candlelight cast shadows on his face.

"Then, you're saying that you start to care when the people you have begin to be in danger?"

"How did it come to that interpretation!"

"Remember clearly that you too are a human. It's good to cherish those within your arms."

Yurik's bare index finger began tapping on the table.

The blood-colored jelly on the silver plate began to undulate subtly.

"Though I couldn't leave anything about our father."

His expression was truly as if he was missing someone.

Seeing that face gave him an odd feeling.

If someone else had witnessed this scene, they might have thought Yurik was reminiscing about a friend he met long ago, or perhaps a deceased family member.

"I left just one painting, long ago."

"Didn't you say one would go mad just by imagining it?"

"That's right. It took 18 years to paint one picture, and during that time, 187 skilled painters were afflicted with madness and took their own lives. All because of just that one painting."

"So what about that painting? It's not like you're going to make me hold a brush."

"Let's make a bet, Duke."

A bet?

As he said this, Yurik's eyes gleamed cunningly.

"Tomorrow is the last day of the Corpus Christi celebration. It's scheduled to unveil a religious painting commissioned by the royal family to a famous painter."

"I haven't heard of such a thing."

"It's not a story that would trickle down all the way to the Duke. But, if tomorrow, instead of pictures of human saints, holy mothers, holy women, and pretty angels, the true appearance of the creator is revealed, wouldn't that be quite interesting?"

"You're insane."

"I told you earlier, I've been mad for a long time."

"Do the lives of others mean nothing to you?"

"Why would they? It's not like I'm saying I'll kill all the citizens in the kingdom. It's just about a hundred nobles or so. And those nobles aren't your people either."

"Even if they're not my people, I still respect them as fellow humans."

"Then I must be the one who's wrong. But what can I do? I'm also the one who can propose the bet."

Suddenly, he missed Leandros.

When Leandros was the protagonist, he could trust him and act recklessly without worry.

The thought that 100 lives were now in his hands made his mind not work properly.

"So, you're going to reveal that painting? And I'm supposed to prevent the painting from being revealed?"

"You understand well."

"What do I gain by agreeing to this bet?"

"Time, of course."

Yurik used a flat pair of tongs to pick up the trembling jelly and move it to the plate in front.

The elegant way he cut the jelly with a fork and knife suggested he had done this many times before.

"If you win, I'll give you a grace period. You've just realized reality, so you'll need time to prepare, won't you? If you don't want to just watch me ruin everything around you, you should make preparations."

"If I lose?"

"You'll have to see 100 people go mad. Nothing really changes. But after the Corpus Christi celebration ends, I'll torment you."

This damn bastard.

His palms began to sweat in front of the dignified dining table.

Yurik's statement about "tormenting" didn't mean he would just continue to annoy him gently as he had been doing so far.

Having acknowledged him as his opponent, it meant he would attempt to strangle him with all his might.

At the current level, if Yurik decided to charge in full force, it was obvious that Hartmann would collapse immediately.

At least time.

If there was at least time to send Leandros, Russel, Amelia, and Arndt elsewhere.

"I accept the bet. Be careful not to break what you just said."

"I'll do so, Duke. I remember everything I say."

Yurik pressed a napkin against his mouth to wipe it clean and put on his gloves.

He turned his head away from the hand that was extended for a handshake.

Because he didn't want to see the sight of that madman smiling with satisfaction at him.

* * *

Russel was worried about his master.

Yesterday, after finishing the private Eucharist with the Crown Prince, Arenheit had returned alone.

He had been fine until he went, but when he returned, his already pale face had become exceptionally pallid.

Like someone who had seen a ghost.

No matter how many times he asked if he was alright, the only answer was that he was fine.

And today, the last day of the Corpus Christi celebration.

Everyone was seated in the grand hall of the temple within the royal palace.

The stained glass, illuminated by sunlight, shone beautifully, and the saints depicted in mosaic technique within the glass seemed as if they might come to life at any moment.

Angels carved from white stone supported the ceiling,

And on the steps at the front, where everyone could look up to it, was a humble and worn chair.

It symbolized the God they served.

In this naturally solemn scene, everyone lowered their voices and whispered politely.

Some were already praying with their hands clasped, offering sincere prayers.

But Arenheit, seated next to Russel, was just staring blankly at the scene.

He looked like someone who had lost his mind.

"Your Grace."

"Yes."

"If you're not feeling well, wouldn't it be better to return? I'll look for a quick route back to the townhouse."

"...No. I'm fine."

Arenheit muttered.

He was picking at the hangnails on his fingers, causing blood to seep from the deeply gouged wounds.

No matter how he looked at it, the Duke didn't seem to be in his right mind.

Russel opened his mouth again to try to persuade the Duke.

"But Your Grace. Right now..."

"It's okay. I don't want to go back. I just want to stay here. Don't say anything. Please."

In the end, Russel had no choice but to close his mouth.

Was it because of Leandros? He had thought it was fortunate that Sir Leandros had pushed the Duke away first.

Russel had been moved by Arenheit, who personally practiced fasting before the Eucharist and listened to the pre-Eucharist mass without showing any signs of drowsiness.

So God does embrace the returned sheep.

Russel thought that if things continued this way, Arenheit would become an exceptionally devout believer for a noble.

But to his surprise.

The Duke, after meeting Crown Prince Yurik, had been sitting blankly all day.

He had heard that the royal family didn't have a good relationship with the temple, so could it be that Crown Prince Yurik had said something to disturb His Grace's mind?

As the saying goes, "there's always another mountain beyond," after Leandros, it was the royal family.

Russel was indignant about this fact, but he controlled himself and calmed his mind.

Just because a sheep doesn't return to the flock, a sheepdog doesn't bite it to death.

With time and dedication, the Duke would gradually gain faith.

His role was important for that.

As Russel was thinking this and making the sign of the cross.

The doors of the temple opened, and priests and clerics entered in a line.

At the very front were the High Priest and Crown Prince Yurik, and behind them, five or six priests were struggling to carry something.

A rectangular object covered with a white cloth.

From its thinness and shape, it seemed to be a painting.

However, it was of such enormous size that it looked like even people sitting at the very back of the temple would be able to see it.

The priests moved the painting up to the steps.

The large painting overwhelmed the audience by its size alone.

Crown Prince Yurik exchanged a few words with the High Priest and then stood in front of the painting.

"On the last day of the Corpus Christi celebration, a day when all breathe within God's grace and praise His love and mercy. I commend the efforts of the High Priest who presided over the event, as well as all the priests and clerics."

The High Priest just nodded slightly, while the priests and clerics bowed deeply.

Yurik continued speaking as he checked the faces of unnamed nobles seated in the audience.

"Originally, a prayer of repentance should follow, but today, before that, I will unveil an offering from the royal family to the temple and God. It is evidence of the deep faith and cooperation the royal family shows to the temple, so may the High Priest graciously bless it."

"Who would not bless a praise offered by the royal family to God? Come here, Your Highness the Crown Prince."

The old High Priest's traditional blessing continued.

The Crown Prince, with his eyes closed, appeared to be listening attentively to the High Priest who had placed his hands on his head.

After praying for the well-being of the royal family and the health of everyone, including the Crown Prince, the Crown Prince took a step back and offered a brief greeting.

"May God's blessing be with you."

Then, lower-ranking priests ascended the steps one by one.

It seemed they were finally about to unveil the painting.

As murmurs of anticipation were heard from around, Russel whispered to Arenheit.

"Look at that, Your Grace. The painting is enormous. I've only seen paintings of that size in murals... Your Grace?"

Arenheit was staring fixedly at the painting, completely rigid.

Anyone would think there was something shocking depicted in the painting.

Russel gently touched the Duke's arm.

"Your Grace."

Arenheit, who had been frozen, suddenly muttered as if awakening from a dream.

"Russel, I don't think I can do this anymore. I don't think I can endure anymore."

"What are you saying, Your Grace? Look here."

"I'm sorry, really sorry, but you understand, right? It has to be me, right? There's no one else who can stop it. Everyone can't die here."

It happened in an instant.

Arenheit, who had been uttering incomprehensible words, suddenly rushed forward.

At this sudden unexpected situation, small screams were heard from all around.

But Arenheit didn't stop.

He ran up the steps, pushed aside the surprised priests and clerics, and rushed to the front of the painting.

Looking around, Arenheit grabbed a candelabra that had been burning in front of the donation box.

And then,

-Thwack!

It was incomprehensible where such strength came from in that body.

The part made pointed for inserting candles was driven through the cloth into the painting.

Duke Arenheit tore down the painting and swung the candelabra several times until the cloth was tattered.

The temple was filled with shock.

After it was all over, Arenheit staggered and dropped the candelabra.

"It's all over."

A soft voice echoed with the clanging sound of metal rolling on the floor.

Then Yurik shouted.

"Guards! What are you doing! Force this insolent person, Duke Hartmann, to kneel immediately! Protect the High Priest!"

At the resonant, powerful voice, everyone seemed to wake from anesthesia and came to their senses.

Arenheit was bound right there and forcibly made to kneel.

Russel rose from his seat in the audience and called out the Duke's name, but the young Duke simply looked up at Yurik.

Arenheit's eyes blazed.

"It's over now. No one can see your damn painting. Is that enough for you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Duke, have you inherited the same madness that afflicted your ancestors? How could you perform such an eccentricity on such an important day?"

"Are you pretending not to know? At this point? You told me what that painting was! That it was a cursed painting, that everyone who saw it would go mad!"

At Arenheit's outcry, the temple was greatly stirred.

A cursed painting introduced at a sacred event.

But Yurik responded coldly.

"A cursed painting? I don't know what you're talking about. The thing I've been worried about has finally happened. The Duke has gone mad."

Yurik cast a contemptuous gaze at Arenheit.

Then he nodded to the hesitating priests and clerics.

"Remove the cloth. It would be good to confirm with your own eyes."

The flustered individuals removed the cloth that covered the painting.

The brutally mutilated painting was,

"-I didn't, I wasn't, I didn't."

...merely a painting of God, angels, and widely known human saints.

Yurik coldly retorted to Arenheit, who had completely turned pale.

"You've completely ruined the gift of respect sent by the royal family to the temple. Is that all? You also threatened me and the High Priest. I will surely address this serious crime. Take him away!"

No, this couldn't be right, no!

Arenheit screamed.

But no one paid attention to that scream.

Instead, all eyes were on the completely destroyed painting and the High Priest who was staggering in shock.

Looking at the murmuring people, Yurik whispered.

"I only said I would remember what I said, but I never said I wouldn't lie."