I’m Trapped in a Bloody Reverse Harem Game - Chapter 140

Ardal furrowed his brows, seemingly puzzled by my sudden movement and frantic hand-waving. His expression, which had been watching me intently, twisted slightly.

“By ‘delete’… are you referring to His Holiness…?”

“Ardal.”

Hearing the word delete, Ardal cautiously asked, but I cut him off.

Now that I thought about it, Ardal had never once called Orias Lord Orias.

Even without having any memories of my brother, he had always addressed him that way. I wondered why.

“Try calling him Orias.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Not ‘His Holiness.’ Call him Orias.”

“…That’s…”

For the first time, Ardal looked displeased.

He had even been willing to betray the temple if it was my command, yet now he wore an expression of disbelief. Biting his lip in discomfort, he slowly sat up from the bed.

“Do you dislike it?”

“…Yes.”

“Why? You don’t even have memories of him.”

Ardal lowered his gaze as he answered. Watching him, I turned my body toward him and thought.

Hearing me murmur to myself, Ardal raised his eyebrows.

I let out a short hum and summoned a system window in front of his face.

<[Haniel]’s unique ability, Memory Manipulation (Lv.2), is available for use.>

The ability I had gained in the third playthrough had carried over to this version of me. Thanks to regaining Haniel’s memories, I now had access to her powers.

Although it was still a bit confusing, Haniel’s memories were clearly imprinted in my mind.

“But Lady Haniel, your hair color… It seems to have changed.”

While I was blinking at the system window, Ardal leaned in, scrutinizing my face. Perhaps the dim lighting made it difficult to see properly, as he reached out to grasp a strand of my hair, studying it closely.

The system window shimmered beside Ardal’s face as he examined my hair, which now hovered between brown and gold.

I shifted my gaze back to the system window.

• You can transfer past memories to [Ardal].

If I used this ability, Ardal would gain memories of both my brother and me.

It would be reassuring to have someone else who truly knew the real Orias, but I worried whether Ardal could handle the weight of it.

He had already been willing to accept punishment in order to cremate my body. If he regained his memories, it would surely be difficult for him.

I couldn’t even imagine how much he would blame himself for failing to stop Zoro and Orias.

I closed the system window.

It was better for Ardal not to remember.

***

I didn’t log back into the game for two days. Partly because Orias’s state in the third playthrough was still unstable, but mostly because I simply didn’t want to see his face.

To be honest, I couldn’t stand him right now.

The first thing he did after regaining his memories was make pathetic excuses. It was clear he still hadn’t come to his senses.

At the very least, he should have dropped to his knees and begged for forgiveness. But instead, he only groaned and shifted the blame onto Zoro.

Since game time ran parallel to real time, I decided to stay logged out for at least four days.

Let him reflect while lying there in the same position I had been in when I was sacrificed.

Maybe after some time, he would finally understand and give me the answer I wanted.

“Lady Haniel, I have prepared a robe. It would be best to keep your face hidden as much as possible.”

As a result, I spent two peaceful days, much to Ardal’s relief.

I had heard that a festival was taking place near the residence Dion had prepared for me, so I suggested going out.

I needed a distraction—seeing the system window constantly urging me to delete Orias was getting on my nerves.

Over the past two days, I had muttered the word delete more than thirty times.

Each time, Ardal anxiously hovered around me, and thanks to that, I hadn’t acted impulsively. If he hadn’t been there, I might have deleted Orias already.

Now, Ardal carefully fastened my robe to ensure my face was fully concealed. He even covered his own face as well. It seemed like he didn’t want to stand out, but that was pointless.

The real issue was his overwhelmingly commanding presence.

“You really don’t need to worry so much. There will be a huge crowd at the festival, so it’ll be easier to blend in.”

At least today, with so many people gathering, Ardal’s large frame wouldn’t stand out as much.

Holding his hand, I encouraged him as he hesitated by the door.

“Right now, staying here is more dangerous.”

Of course, it wasn’t me who was in danger—it was Orias. If I stayed cooped up, I might delete him without thinking.

At my insistence, Ardal cautiously scanned the surroundings before stepping outside with me.

The place Dion had secured for us wasn’t far from the festival grounds.

The moment we stepped out, the dazzling glow of lights filled our vision, bright as daylight.

The festival was held at night.

We walked toward the warmly lit streets, the round lanterns glowing against the cold night air.

Ardal remained tense, alert to his surroundings. I, on the other hand, took a deep breath of the cool air, tinged with the earthy scent of leaves and soil, to calm myself.

Stepping outside, my anger toward Orias subsided slightly.

Adrian had planned the route we would take while we were in hiding. Since he had already completed all the necessary investigations, I could only assume that the reason he hadn’t changed the location—despite knowing a festival would be held near the residence Dion had prepared—was to lift my spirits.

That thought only solidified as I arrived at the festival grounds.

“Wearing a mask is mandatory, so it’s actually harder to be recognized.”

“Even if you wear a mask, it won’t be difficult for me to recognize you, Lady Haniel.”

“That’s just you, Ardal. Now, stop worrying and put this on.”

Ardal spoke with confidence, but I held up a simple black mask in front of his face as I spoke.

I, too, scanned my surroundings and put on an inconspicuous mask before stepping into the crowd.

This was a festival honoring the saint who had driven out the devil.

It was said that the festival had originated from an old custom where people wore masks to deceive the devil, ensuring that they would not lose their identities as those before them had. The saint had used wit to reclaim the faces of people stolen by the devil, and over time, this practice evolved into a celebration.

“If you take off your mask and look in a mirror during the festival, the devil will steal your face,” I commented as I admired the various masks decorating the streets.

Ardal added the information he had heard, “After the festival ends, you must check a mirror to make sure your face hasn’t been stolen.”

Mirrors, mixed among the masks, were selling rapidly. I saw children playing loudly, holding up mirrors to each other’s masked faces.

Hearing their bright, carefree laughter, I smiled and responded, “That’s just a marketing ploy.”

It was a small festival, nothing more than a row of stalls selling masks and mirrors, but I was enjoying myself nonetheless.

If only I hadn’t felt a presence inside the temporary residence upon returning from our brief outing, it would have remained a fond memory.

“Lady Haniel, step back.”

Ardal, keenly alert, muttered as he scanned our surroundings. He roughly tore off his mask and threw it aside before pushing back his hood and opening the door.

The moment the door swung open, a familiar voice greeted us.

“I kept my promise not to retaliate against the Empire. But I couldn’t quite manage to wait obediently like a dog guarding a house.”

Orias spoke with a composed expression that starkly contrasted with the disarray of the room.

It was clear he had searched through my belongings, as various items were scattered across the floor.

“…Your Holiness.”

“If you come back with me now, I won’t harm Ardal. Let’s go together.”

Beneath his feigned smile, his possessiveness gleamed in his eyes.

I let out a weary sigh.

Right. I had never expected him to stay put.

“Did you come alone?”

I stepped in front of Ardal as I asked. Ardal reached out to grab me, but I looked into his eyes and gave a slight shake of my head.

Seeing my silent message not to interfere, Ardal loosened his grip. Though he immediately took hold of his sword, he gave a small nod, indicating he would watch for now.

I turned my attention to Orias.

“Yes. It would be best if you returned while I’m still alone. I don’t want to harm Ardal either.”

He spoke well for someone with such an ominous gaze.

“Ardal.”

“I don’t sense any other presences.”

At my call, Ardal quickly responded.

Orias frowned, as if offended that I doubted his words.

I removed my mask and hood as I approached him.

“Haniel? Your hair…”

Orias’s eyes widened as he saw my exposed hair.

It seemed he was shocked to see my golden hair—the same as when I had been Haniel, before using Lee Juha’s body.

‘Activate system.’

Ignoring his reaction, I stepped closer.

As I grabbed his wrist, I saw his lips part into a relaxed smile.

Did he think I was willing to follow him? But what I intended to do was not surrender myself to Orias’s grasp.

“Yes, if you return with me like this—”

Orias began to speak gently, but he never got the chance to finish.

<[Haniel]’s Unique Ability>

<Using Memory Manipulation (Lv.2).>

• Using ability on character [Orias].

I used the same ability I had on the Orias from the third playthrough. This time, however, I reduced the intensity.

I chose not to return the memory of him killing me just yet. The Orias in the third playthrough had taught me that such a memory was too much to process all at once.

Instead, I transferred only the memories he could bear—the ones involving the real Orias, Theodora, and Zoro.

And one more thing—I took back the holy power I had lent him.

“Your Holiness…!”

As my holy power returned to me, Ardal called out to Orias in a trembling voice.

<Holy power has been restored.>

• Holy power can now be used without the system.

The golden hair that Orias had gained when I transferred my name and holy power to him slowly faded back to its original color.

At Ardal’s exclamation, Orias’s face hardened as he slowly turned his gaze.

In the large mirror standing in the corner of the room, his reflection was clearly visible. His wide eyes filled with shock as he clutched at his hair in disbelief.

“Why…?”

He looked as though he had just been stripped of his holy power by the devil.

Once I had fully reclaimed my holy power, I shoved his wrist away, and his body was lightly pushed back. Staggering, he collapsed onto the bed and looked up at me with an expression of despair.

Seeing his white hair, I was reminded of the young Orias.

Memories of our time together—of when we had been happy—flashed through my mind, causing a dull ache in my chest. But I forced myself to remain composed and spoke to him.

“Please, just once, give me the answer I want to hear.”

Whether it was the Orias from the third playthrough or the Orias in front of me now—I didn’t care who. I just desperately wanted one of them to give me the answer I longed for.

No matter how unforgettable my resentment was, I loved him sincerely.