I’m Trapped in a Bloody Reverse Harem Game - Chapter 88

“Contact the commander immediately…!”

A sudden commotion erupted near Haniel’s house. Seeing the knights surrounding the house moving about frantically, Dietrich used the chaos as an opportunity to approach the previously inaccessible residence.

When Dietrich saw Haniel’s house, he momentarily held his breath.

“What’s going on?”

“The house suddenly started decaying.”

“Look at that wall.”

“Just yesterday, it looked brand new. What on earth happened?”

Witnessing the strange changes that occurred within minutes, people pointed at the house in alarm. The previously well-maintained walls, even without a caretaker, now had large cracks, and the flowers in the garden had withered, their petals turning an ugly, dark shade.

The knights were just as bewildered. As some scrambled in confusion, others appeared to head toward the temple, presumably to report the situation.

Dietrich stared blankly at the half-collapsed house, a chilling premonition creeping over him. His hand unconsciously moved to where the Binding Seal was, only for someone to grab his shoulder firmly.

“…Dietrich!”

“What’s so urgent?”

Dion called out harshly, having rushed over without considering the knights’ attention. Fortunately, the holy knights, preoccupied with investigating the changes to Haniel’s house, paid no attention to Dion.

Dietrich shielded Dion’s face and scolded him. “Cover your face. What if someone recognizes you?”

“Dietrich… you.”

“…What?”

Ignoring Dietrich’s reprimand, Dion reached out in shock. As his hat was about to fall off, Dietrich caught Dion’s hand and asked in a low voice.

People’s gazes began to focus on them. Realizing the attention was unwanted, Dietrich told Dion to follow him and pushed through the crowd to leave the area. Once they confirmed they were alone, Dietrich frowned and questioned him.

“What are you doing acting like that? What if the holy knights recognize us?”

“Are you alright?”

Dion asked, his face full of concern. With no explanation, Dietrich let out a sigh. Dion scrutinized him sharply as he exhaled.

“How can I answer when I don’t even know what you’re asking?”

“Gillian is dead.”

Dietrich’s hand, which had been rubbing his forehead, fell to his side. Blinking rapidly as though unable to comprehend what he had just heard, he stared at Dion’s face.

His unfocused eyes finally fixed on Dion as Dietrich spoke anxiously.

“That makes no sense. Why would Gillian…?”

“Judging by your condition, the information must be incorrect.”

“No way.”

Seeing that nothing was physically wrong with Dietrich, Dion felt relieved, but Dietrich’s face turned pale.

“No, this can’t be.”

Muttering the words as though in a trance, Dietrich spun around and spoke, “The Binding Seal isn’t with me; it’s with the Saintess. If the information isn’t wrong, then the Saintess…”

“The Binding Seal is with the Saintess?”

“Yes! Since the Seal isn’t on me, of course I’m fine.”

“But you said there was no way to transfer the Seal yet. How could it be with the Saintess?”

“Did you miss the part where I said I need to save her? Why are you asking such stupid questions? Damn it, there’s no time to explain. I need to get back to the palace immediately.”

Dietrich snapped sharply at Dion’s question and mounted his horse. He repeatedly muttered curses—words he usually deemed too vulgar to even utter—his desperation palpable. Dion, recognizing the urgency that couldn’t possibly be an act, followed him closely.

Only then did Dion recall how frantic Dietrich had been about saving the Saintess. Dion had assumed Dietrich’s urgency was a performance meant to reassure him. Knowing better than anyone how adept Dietrich was at masking his emotions, Dion had not fully trusted his words.

Revealing only information that wouldn’t pose a threat to Haniel, Dion spurred his horse and stayed right on Dietrich’s heels as he galloped ahead.

‘If the Binding Seal is on Haniel, then by now, she…’

Hearing Dietrich curse in a way he’d never heard before left Dion’s mind in turmoil.

***

“Commander!”

A holy knight jumped off his horse, almost tumbling, and bowed to Ardal as he shouted. Interrupted during training, Ardal looked down at the knight with a cold expression.

“Something is wrong with the Saintess’s house.”

Hearing the report, Ardal immediately stopped training and walked past the knight.

“Get up. We’re going to His Holiness’ office. Report in detail on the way.”

“Yes, sir!”

Uncharacteristically urgent in tone and stride, Ardal’s expression remained stern as he strode toward the Pope’s office. After hearing the full report, Ardal dismissed the knight and entered the office.

Orias raised an eyebrow at the unannounced visit and looked at Ardal. After offering a brief greeting, Ardal spoke, “Something seems to have happened to Lady Haniel’s house.”

“Explain in detail.”

“According to the report, the house appears to have aged suddenly, as though time passed rapidly.”

Ardal finished speaking in a stiff tone. During his investigation of Haniel, Orias had mentioned divine protection. Now, it felt as if that protection had suddenly vanished.

Ardal’s lips trembled as he spoke anxiously, “Your Holiness, I will go to Lady Haniel.”

“No, let’s visit her house first.”

If what Orias had said was true and the current Haniel was indeed using the body of his “dead sister,” it was concerning to think about what state she might be in without divine protection.

If, by chance, something had truly happened to Haniel…

Seeing Ardal’s trembling eyes, Orias spoke calmly, “There is no issue with Haniel.”

***

“Saintess?”

Passing near Adrian’s office, Dahlia tilted her head when she saw a familiar head of golden hair. The blonde hair visible between Adrian and Lucius was recognizable, but the dazzling brilliance she associated with it was absent.

“Saintess? Where is the Saintess, Dahlia?”

Hella, her eyes sparkling, asked excitedly beside Dahlia. The mere mention of the Saintess’s name brightened Hella’s face as she eagerly shook Dahlia’s arm with expectant eyes.

“Huh? Where?”

“Ah, no. I think I might have been mistaken…”

Dahlia stammered in response to Hella’s question. While she had indeed seen the same golden hair, she couldn’t believe it belonged to the Saintess. The radiant and beautiful golden aura that always surrounded the Saintess was nowhere to be seen.

Chuckling at Hella’s sigh of disappointment, Dahlia grabbed her hand and said, “Let’s hurry to Sister Tricia. Once Beatrice’s training ends, we’ll get to see the Saintess.”

Still, the sight of the limp hand of the person Lucius had been carrying lingered in Dahlia’s mind, prompting her to glance back. But by then, the figures were already gone.

***

Carrying the unconscious Saintess, Lucius left the office. Just before she collapsed, she had attempted to speak about Gillian. If the cause of her collapse lay with the Binding Seal, the destination was clear.

He had to go to the place where the Second Prince had kidnapped the Saintess—the place where Gillian had conducted his research on the Seal.

“Find out what happened to Gillian.”

Lucius commanded Adrian and headed for the tower. Forcing the closed door open with his magic, Lucius kicked it in and stepped inside.

He laid the Saintess on a bed engraved with patterns identical to the Binding Seal and checked the condition of the Seal. Placing his hand on the Seal, two-thirds of which had turned a different color, he channeled his magic, but it did not flow through her body.

Her pale cheeks and closed eyes filled him with anxiety. He had already realized that all of her vital signs had ceased the moment she collapsed, but he couldn’t believe it.

“This doesn’t make sense. I’ve already taken control of more than half. Even if Gillian is dead, the Saintess shouldn’t die like this.”

Lucius spoke, struggling to think rationally. He forced his magic into her still heart. Even corpses moved briefly under the influence of strong magic, but the Saintess’s body showed no reaction.

“Saintess.”

“Sir Lucius, Gillian is dead. I couldn’t fully investigate due to time constraints, but it appears to have been the work of the Second Prince.”

Adrian spoke urgently to Lucius, who was still channeling magic into the Saintess’s heart despite the visible sparks of resistance around her body. Seeing the Saintess’s fingertips turn black, Adrian pulled Lucius’s hand away.

“Please stop, or her body will be harmed…”

Adrian’s attempt to stop Lucius faltered as he noticed the eerie silence and froze in place. No sound came from the Saintess’s body.

The faint breathing and steady heartbeat typical of a living person were entirely absent. Were it not for her presence on the bed, Adrian might have thought it was just him and Lucius in this small room.

Adrian’s strength left him as he lowered his hand. The unnatural silence emanating from the Saintess made Adrian deeply uneasy.

When Adrian dropped his hand, Lucius placed his own back on the Saintess’s chest, channeling magic once more. Suddenly, an intense force repelled him.

“Ugh!”

Lucius’s hand was burned red by the backlash of his own magic. Grimacing in pain, he brought his injured hand to his mouth.

Frowning at the stinging sensation, Lucius murmured in a calm tone, “There’s a reaction.”

It was the first time he had encountered such resistance while using magic, but the Saintess’s body had reacted to his attempt. Unlike his palm, which was now raw and blistered, her chest, where the magic had directly made contact, remained unscathed. Ignoring the pain from his hand, Lucius placed it back on her body.

The Saintess’s body was responding to magic.

“Adrian! Bring me the magic recovery potions, all of them!”

Snapped out of his anxious stupor by Lucius’s urgent command, Adrian nodded. This was no time to wallow in useless fears.