Chapter 107
Right after Cici Grington collapsed in the courtroom.
The trial was adjourned due to the witness’s sudden fainting.
The duke’s household servants rushed to fetch a doctor, and people carried the fallen witness to the lounge.
Until that point, everything seemed fine.
Except for one thing: Cici’s face was pale as a corpse.
Except that her hands and feet were icy cold, like a truly dead person.
Ian stared at her for a long while, then dashed out of the building.
“Ian Brighton!”
Rosa chased after him.
“Where are you going?”
“To catch the culprit.”
“What? You know who did it?”
“Let go.”
“Let go? Do you know the expression on your face right now?”
“I know.”
No need to see it. His facial muscles were all tense, looking no less than a demon.
“Go back and watch over the girl who fainted. Don’t let anyone suspicious get near her. Understand? If anything happens to her, I won’t forgive you.”
James Grington.
Damn James Grington!
I could clearly see the traces of a curse.
Not just any curse.
A curse that drains every bit of its caster’s remaining lifespan to steal the victim’s life force.
A forbidden ritual in the Empire, strictly taboo—and whether it required a cultist’s help was irrelevant.
James Grington had already entrusted himself to a devil worshiper.
That’s why Cici had been allowed to stay under the protection of the Knights.
I repeatedly told her in letters not to go outside.
The holy power of the knights and the proximity to Cecil would prevent the curse from taking effect.
Even if she left that place, I thought I could stop anything if I were nearby…
But now.
‘He crossed the line.’
If it were a childish curse, maybe it could be ignored.
But this was closer to a ritual involving dozens, even hundreds of participants.
Already, I could feel the demon inside me, meant to remain dormant, stirring and slowly moving freely.
The demonic power he had was gradually seeping away.
Honestly, the power didn’t matter.
Even if the demon’s power vanished completely, it wouldn’t matter.
Wasn’t that exactly what Cici Grington wanted?
If it satisfied her, I was ready to let it be.
But if it endangered Cici, it was a different story.
Thirty minutes later, Ian Brighton succeeded in tossing James Grington into a back-alley floor.
“Huh.”
“Your face looks relaxed. Did something good happen?”
Clearly sarcastic.
James, who Ian had barely tracked down through spreading shadows, had been hiding in the wine storage of a tavern.
Why had the young heir of the count’s family behaved so pitifully?
The answer was simple.
James’s wrinkled old face—once in his twenties, now in his sixties—was frozen in terror before Ian.
In just a single day, he had aged decades.
Ian openly snorted at him.
“If you planned to ruin someone’s life, you should’ve been prepared to pay the price.”
“Shut…! Nobody told me this would happen. They didn’t say a thing!”
“Who would tell you? Especially someone as foolish as you. Even if they tried, would you understand? ‘Here’s all your money—do whatever you can to kill Cici Grington.’ That’s what they probably said.”
James shut his mouth.
If the devil worshiper had said, “To make this curse work, you must also pay the cost,” James would have given exactly this kind of response.
“You’ll never return to the count’s house.”
“What… what did you say?”
“Do you think the count would recognize a son who aged overnight? Even if given the chance, he’d let you slip away. Because I…”
Ian’s lips curled into a cold sneer.
“I slightly… clouded the count’s mind. His judgment is considerably weakened. If he doesn’t curse the filthy old man on sight, consider yourself lucky.”
“No… no!”
“You’re not the only one trying to ruin someone’s life deliberately.”
“No, no. Damn it. Don’t lie… ugh!”
“Anyway, I’m not in the mood for games right now.”
Ian gripped James’s throat tightly, staring into his eyes with a piercing gaze.
James, his windpipe constricted, could only wheeze intermittently.
But Ian didn’t care.
“Who told you about this curse? Where did you meet them? Tell me everything. If you don’t, I’ll make you suffer worse than death.”
“…You said it yourself—this was the goal!”
James gasped out in a barely audible voice.
Ian relaxed slightly at the seemingly plausible answer.
“You… you’re the demon-possessed master, right? No wonder you seemed sinister. Heh… cough, cough. If I go outside and reveal this, what do you think would happen? Huh? Both you and the duke’s house would be finished—ugh!”
In the next instant, Ian’s fierce hand gripped James’s throat again.
James struggled, but his body was far too aged.
He hadn’t gradually grown old; overnight, he had become an elderly man and couldn’t adapt to the body at all.
His limbs trembled weakly as he tried in vain to resist.
Weakness brought fear.
James’s eyes, wide with terror, stared at Ian’s expressionless face.
“Sa… save me…”
“I am the goal.”
The low voice echoed through the air.
“They’re trying to perform a resurrection ritual. That’s why they touched Cici…”
A sudden realization flashed across Ian’s mind.
Frozen as if struck by lightning, he threw James into the shadows of a narrow alley.
Ignoring the dry cough, Ian hurried off.
Following him, the shadow whispered.
“Ian, what about that guy?”
“What should we do with him?”
“Lock him up.”
Laughter faded as Ian moved away.
But there was no time to focus on trivial matters. They had to return to the courtroom immediately.
The devil had taken an interest in Cici Grington.
As much as Ian hated to admit it, the objective reality confirmed it.
Otherwise, the devil wouldn’t have sought her out that night and proposed a wager.
The fact that Cici had drawn the demon’s attention was the problem.
Because of that, the devil worshipers had decided to use Cici as the key offering in the resurrection ritual.
They had immediately revered her as the devil’s servant upon seeing her.
They must have noticed three years ago that Cici, marked with traces of demonic power, was no ordinary person.
Perhaps they had decided then that she would become the final offering.
Ah, why hadn’t I anticipated this?
I had thought sending her to a distant province would be enough.
The cultist’s main interest was the devil, and as long as he stayed in the capital, he wouldn’t notice beyond its borders.
Once Cici returned, I could keep her safe by staying nearby.
Yes, I would protect her…
But Cici Grington inevitably disappeared from the courtroom, and Ian Brighton had no choice but to head to the tomb.
Just like three years ago.
But worse than that day.
Standing before the stone tomb’s entrance, Ian gave a faint smile at the faint sound of a summoning chant beyond the door.
The one who would curse us, take away every role, joy, and place, and push us into the abyss!
The master of hell itself!
Ruler of 62 legions, of 11 hells!
A name he had heard countless times.
They had found him.
They dared to use Cici…
A sudden, sharp, intense wave of emotion struck Ian like lightning.
‘All talk, and yet I never properly protected her.’
‘Useless Ian Brighton.’
‘Do I even deserve to have her by my side?’
Every bit of self-recrimination surged.
‘Those bastards… all of them… I’ll deal with them myself.’
‘I’ll show them their place!’
In that moment of white-hot rage, the whisper of a demon, as if it had been waiting for this very instant, tickled Ian’s ear.
“Ian.”
“Shall we kill them?”
A long silence followed.
Though only a few seconds passed, it felt like minutes to Ian. He murmured softly.
“Yes.”
At the same moment, a sharp, piercing laughter rang out.
Listening to the laughter, filled with satisfaction, Ian closed his eyes.
Surrendering his body to the sensation of being completely controlled, from head to toe.
