ILBTD 43

Chapter 43 The Final, Final-Final, Seriously Final Villain Behind It All

The man everyone had thought was the mastermind, Hamilton, couldn’t even lift his head before Castian’s sword. He trembled violently while Irine began to explain the situation.

“The one who first led the demon lord summoning—yes, that was him. He gathered a few persecuted black magicians and tried to summon the Demon Lord. Hamilton here was a summoner.”

“Then those beasts outside the fortress—are they his doing?”

“No. Those were summoned by other summoners.”

“You mean there’s another summoner?”

“Yes, Sir Darmil. Things are… rather complicated.”

Darmil blinked in astonishment.

Irine gave a faint smile before continuing her explanation.

Apparently, Hamilton had gathered like-minded black magicians to protest the discrimination against their kind.

But they knew no one would listen if they just complained. So, as a threat, they declared they would summon the Demon Lord himself.

Of course, none of them actually believed they’d succeed.

The Demon Lord was far too great an existence for mere humans to summon.

So it was meant to be a sort of performance—a bluff to make a point. But word spread, and more and more black magicians, who had long suffered persecution, gathered together.

And among them… was someone truly dangerous.

“He was a soul conjurer.”

“A soul conjurer?”

“Yes. At first, he pretended to follow Hamilton’s plan—to use the Demon Lord summoning bluff to bargain with the Emperor. But as time went on, Hamilton began to sense something was wrong.”

“Wrong? What did he find out?”

“That the conjurer actually intended to summon the soul of the Demon Lord for real.”

What was supposed to be a mere show had turned into a true soul-conjuring ritual.

By the time Hamilton and his companions realized what was happening, most of the black magicians had already been placed under the conjurer’s control.

When Hamilton and his allies tried to stop the ritual and escape, the conjurer placed a soul-binding spell on Hamilton himself.

He even planned to use Hamilton’s body as a vessel to contain the Demon Lord’s soul.

So Hamilton had been performing the summoning ritual against his will all along.

“That’s where I came in,” Irine sighed.

When she looked back at Hamilton, he nodded miserably.

“My comrades, the ones who first shared my ideals… they kidnapped the Saint. They believed that only her holy power could purify my soul and retrieve it from the beasts’ grasp.”

“When I was kidnapped, I thought I was done for,” Irine continued. “But they told me to purify this man—to stop the Demon Lord’s descent. After that, chaos broke out between the black magicians who wanted to stop the ritual and those who wanted to finish it. It was complete mayhem.”

During that chaos, Irine cast a holy barrier over the chapel, aided by the black magicians who wanted to stop the conjuration.

Inside that holy barrier—impossible for any black magician to break—she purified Hamilton and stopped the ritual.

And from that moment on, the two had been trapped inside the chapel—not imprisoned, but unable to leave.

“The soul-bound black magicians were guarding the outside. We couldn’t step out even if we wanted to. If you hadn’t come, we would’ve starved to death.”

“What happened to the black magicians who kidnapped you, Saint?” Castian asked.

Irine slowly shook her head.

Hamilton answered for her, voice trembling.

“There were simply too many of them under the conjurer’s control. It was a hopeless battle from the start. My companions… died trying to save me.”

“Then the remaining black magicians must’ve been those who were already possessed.”

That explained everything.

The ones who had attacked the Imperial army—or guarded the banquet hall—weren’t there to stop us, but to kill the Saint and Hamilton.

No wonder they hadn’t responded when called.

They were already under the dominion of another summoner’s soul magic.

Unlike necromancy, which deals with the dead, soul conjuring manipulates the living—making it far more complex and difficult.

To control that many, especially black magicians, meant the conjurer was no ordinary mage.

And to think that kind of monster had tried to summon the Demon Lord’s soul… he wasn’t just skilled—he was completely insane.

So where was that dangerous madman now?

Castian must have reached the same conclusion, because he asked Hamilton,

“Where is this soul conjurer now?”

Hamilton’s face crumpled. “I don’t know. After they brought the Saint here, he disappeared. I believe he fled when things started to go wrong.”

His answer left everyone uncertain.

Was that good news—or very bad?

And more importantly—could they even trust Hamilton’s words?

Just because he was weak and starving didn’t mean he couldn’t lie.

Irine, too, was not beyond suspicion. She was a saint, yes, but hearts are far more complex than magic.

Castian sheathed his sword but did not drop his guard.

“We’ll need to confirm his words,” he said coolly. “Bring him before the Mirror of God.”

Mirror of God?

Standing a little distance away, I tilted my head toward Iden and whispered,

“Sir Iden, what’s the Mirror of God?”

「It’s a holy relic said to reflect all falsehoods.」

“There’s really something like that?”

「It’s mostly used by the High Priest to tell if someone’s lying to him.」

So it was basically this world’s version of a lie detector.

And the fact that the High Priest used such a divine artifact for personal convenience was… impressive, in its own way.

I lowered my voice even more. “The High Priest must be really suspicious by nature.”

「Suspicious and greedy, but supposedly quite powerful.」

I clapped a hand over Iden’s mouth—too late.

Even in death, he had a loud voice, and everyone around us heard him clearly.

Priest Darmil coughed awkwardly, while the other priests glared. Irine let out a small laugh.

She turned toward us, still smiling—then noticed Iden, and froze.

Her eyes widened as she spotted the pale blue legion standing behind me.

I tried stepping forward to block her view, but it was hopeless.

Just thinking about how a saint might see us made me shrink a little.

But Irine quickly looked away and turned back to Castian.

“I agree. We should go to the Great Temple,” she said.

“You’ll also stand before the Mirror, Saint.”

Castian’s tone left no room for argument. Yet Irine only smiled wryly, as if she’d expected that.

“So you don’t trust me either?”

“I only seek the truth.”

“Very well. I’ll stand before the Mirror in your presence, Duke. Will that satisfy you?”

Castian nodded stiffly. The conversation ended there.

It was the first meeting between the two main characters since I’d entered this world, but… it felt strangely flat.

The whole expedition, in fact, felt that way—anticlimactic.

Well, maybe “unsettling” was the better word.

The summoning ritual—or whatever it had become—was stopped, so technically we’d succeeded. But since there was still an unknown true villain behind it all, it felt like using the bathroom without flushing afterward.

Anyway, since there was nothing more to do here, the expedition’s return was decided.

While the others were cleaning up, I gathered my own troops—the soldiers of death—for a final farewell.

We’d achieved our goal, so it was time to let them rest.

I bowed deeply to them.

“Thank you for helping me. Now, I’ll send you to your rest.”

At once, most of the soldiers knelt.

「Thank you, my lord.」

Through the link between our souls, I could feel their joy and gratitude.

Even though our time together had been short, parting was bittersweet. Still, I was glad they would finally find peace.

As I watched their happy faces, my nose stung with emotion—until I noticed a group that wasn’t kneeling.

Iden and his twelve knights stood firm, solemn-faced.

For once, the usually talkative Iden was silent.