The Possessed Evil Woman Wreaks Havoc - Chapter 112

Reluctantly agreeing, Nigel continued, “We do have a chieftain. But he really hates revealing himself, so we only see him once every few years. He doesn’t even like being called the chieftain.”

This, too, was something unimaginable in the Demon Realm.

Even though Lilith’s power was overwhelming, she still had to regularly stomp a few demons to set an example.

Otherwise, rebellions would break out everywhere.

A chieftain like that wouldn’t survive long in the Demon Realm.

Well, I didn’t understand it, but let’s call it a cultural difference. I’m a broad-minded demon, after all.

I thought to myself.

But if he’s the chieftain of the beastkin… doesn’t that mean he possesses the Power of Prophecy?

As that thought crossed my mind, I began questioning Nigel further about him.

“Do you know what kind of power the chieftain’s Power of Prophecy is?”

“…I’ve heard about it from the chieftain. About that power.”

“Tell me more.”

At my urging, Nigel hesitated for a moment, then began to speak.

“The Power of Prophecy is the ability to see the future. What’s seen through that power is called a prophecy.”

My ears perked up at the words ability to see the future.

I had suspected as much the moment I heard Power of Prophecy, but hearing it confirmed left me with a strange feeling.

If it’s the ability to see the future… then maybe it surpasses my power.

As if sensing what I was thinking, Nigel shook his head and said, “According to the chieftain, seeing the future is possible—but that’s it. You can’t change that future.”

“Ah.”

Hearing that made the Power of Prophecy seem far less impressive.

What’s the use of knowing the future if you can’t change it?

“But.”

Nigel spoke again, pausing briefly before continuing, “In the chieftain’s words, prophecies are immutable—and also incomplete.”

What kind of nonsense is that?

As I frowned, Nigel elaborated, “Prophecies always come true. But there are ways to avoid them.”

“Explain.”

“…You really have no manners when asking for favors, you know that?”

Nigel sighed and began explaining again.

“Let’s say, for example, the chieftain prophesied the Demon King’s death.”

Before he could even finish, I kicked toward him.

Of course, Nigel deftly dodged my foot.

“What the hell was that for?”

“That was an unpleasant example. Pick another one.”

“It was just an example… sigh. Fine. I get why you’d be upset.”

Accepting my demand, Nigel continued, “Then let’s say it’s the chieftain of the Celestial Realm. Suppose the chieftain prophesied that leader’s death.”

“Now that’s a better example.”

“Gabriel, the leader of the Celestial Realm, hears the prophecy and, to avoid death—”

“Can’t we just have Gabriel die instead?”

When I interrupted mid-explanation, Nigel snapped, “You keep cutting me off—I’m warning you, one more word and I’m not saying anything else, got it?”

So sensitive.

I pouted but accepted Nigel’s warning.

“To avoid the prophecy, Gabriel could choose to step down from the position of celestial leader. The prophecy said the celestial leader would die—not Gabriel himself.”

After hearing Nigel’s explanation, I frowned.

Now I finally understood why the prophecy was considered incomplete.

And at the same time, I realized the inherent flaw of prophecies.

“If all prophecies were like that… they must have caused considerable confusion.”

Nigel nodded at my words. “It wasn’t rare for the chieftain’s prophecies to cause chaos. Once, out of goodwill, the chieftain gave a prophecy to a king about his future.”

“And?”

“The result was disastrous. The prophecy said the king would die within a year.”

Intrigued by the story, I listened closely.

Nigel continued, “Upon hearing the prophecy, the king immediately abdicated the throne to his child. The child was so young he hadn’t even learned to walk.”

I grimaced at the grotesque nature of humanity.

Of course, as a demon, I could never bear a child—but if I did have one, I was sure I wouldn’t act like that.

Is someone who sacrifices their child for their own safety really sane?

“So did the prophecy come true?”

“…In the end, it did.”

With a bitter expression, Nigel went on, “Maybe that’s why the chieftain hates his own power. The last time he used it was probably centuries ago.”

If he were a demon, he would’ve laughed at the chaos he caused—but beastkin must be different.

I could understand now why the Lord of Prophecy despised his own ability.

As we talked, the carriage finally arrived at House Graham.

***

Unlike the grandeur of a duke’s house, the Graham’s one was a far smaller and simpler mansion.

Even its location was on the outskirts of the capital, not at its center.

Well, that made sense.

House Graham was an earl’s house. Before Daphne became a saintess, it had been a very poor family.

Even after Daphne rose to sainthood, she kept her distance from her family.

So while their situation had likely improved compared to before, House Graham could never fully bask in Daphne’s glory.

On the contrary—

“So Daphne returned to her family? After I left… after what happened to Zachary?”

I was shocked by this revelation.

Nigel nodded at my question and quietly added, “She needed a quiet place to raise the child. There was a lot of gossip in high society at the time, because Daphne had given birth without marrying.”

“No one knew who the child’s father was?”

“Ethan’s death… was handled very secretly. To protect the child, Daphne never revealed who the father was.”

Realizing what he meant, I clenched my fists tightly.

At the time, Ethan had been fleeing with me when he was killed by Zachary’s guards who were chasing us.

No wonder Ethan’s death had to be handled quietly. The fact that the Emperor killed a fellow comrade from the Demon God subjugation couldn’t be made public.

Daphne, who had always enjoyed being around people, had fled to a place like this.

Reading my expression, Nigel muttered softly, “Public curiosity about the child’s father faded quickly. Not long after the child was born, Zachary took his own life. Even if Daphne was a Saintess, the Emperor’s death was a much bigger issue than a Saintess’s illegitimate child.”

Nigel must’ve just wanted to tell me what had happened.

But hearing it made my breathing grow rough.

If only I had been a little stronger back then. If only I had had more faith in Zachary.

And more than anything—

‘No matter what happens, you’re the one I’ll kill.’

I sharpened my blade inwardly toward Gabriel, whom I presumed to be behind it all.

After renewing my vow of vengeance, I took a deep breath to calm my fury.

I still couldn’t unclench my fists, but at least my breathing had steadied.

“Let’s go in.”

At my words, Nigel pushed open the mansion’s door.

Someone must’ve been taking care of the mansion—because the door opened smoothly.

The interior was also spotless, free of dust, suggesting it had been maintained regularly.

As I looked around the unexpectedly spacious house, I frowned.

I’d come here to find traces of Daphne, but how was I supposed to find anything in a place this large?

For now, let’s look around the mansion.

I walked silently through the first-floor hallway. Nigel followed quietly behind me.

As we continued down the long corridor, a serene stillness spread through the air.

A strange feeling settled over me.

Daphne must have walked down this hallway thousands of times.

I looked around briefly.

Then, my eyes caught a door at the end of the hall, firmly closed. As if drawn by something, I walked toward it.

It looked just like all the other doors in the hallway, but for some reason, I felt compelled to open this one.

I placed my hand on the doorknob.

As I stepped inside the room, I realized it was completely empty.

Strange. My instincts had told me this room was important.

Frowning slightly, I turned to leave the room.

That’s when my gaze landed on the portraits hanging on the wall.

Five framed portraits decorated the wall.

Except for the one on the far right, each frame held a portrait.

The moment I saw the faces in the paintings, I flinched.

‘Daphne. Your blood really does run strong.’

Light blonde hair and blue-green eyes.

Anyone could tell that the four figures in the portraits were Daphne’s descendants.

Each face was different, but looking at them together, it was obvious they were all related by blood.

But still—what exactly is this room?

As that thought passed through my mind, I looked more closely at each portrait on the wall.

Then my gaze dropped to the plaques below the portraits.

Must be the names of the people in the portraits.

Reading them idly, I suddenly frowned.

…What?

I hurried to the next portrait. Then the next.

After examining every portrait in the room, I came to a conclusion.

“Nigel. What… did I just see?” I murmured, almost to myself.

All the people in the portraits had the same name.

‘Isabella.’

I read the name on the plaque again.