Chapter 96
Before I could even process the shocking line, the Crown Prince had already completed the ritual to awaken the mirror, speaking in that strange, incomprehensible tongue.
The mirror’s light flickered violently between white and black, flashing with eerie intensity.
For an instant, the Crown Prince’s composure wavered—he looked genuinely startled—before he quickly put his mask of calm back on.
Something had gone wrong.
Only someone with sharp eyesight like mine would’ve caught it.
Beside me, Yurel leaned toward Ivelyn and murmured,
“The Crown Prince seemed… startled.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I’m not sure.”
At Yurel’s emotionless reply, Ivelyn’s eyes narrowed sharply.
Then, the Crown Prince spoke again—his tone grave.
“Does the Grand Magus currently exist?”
Red letters began to etch themselves across the mirror, as if written in blood.
[The Grand Magus currently exists.]
The Crown Prince flinched ever so slightly.
So the text wasn’t supposed to be red.
In the normal mode, the mirror had only glimmered faintly with pale blue light—no writing appeared—so I hadn’t known this either.
In the game, the scene had simply played out like this:
[Ivelyn: (There’s writing appearing on the mirror.)]
[Ivelyn: (Is it information about the Grand Magus?)]
That was how we knew there was text at all.
Now, the Crown Prince raised his voice again.
“Does the Grand Magus exist within the Inner World?”
[He cannot leave the Inner World.]
A ripple of unease swept through the survivors.
They already knew that much, of course.
But it was one thing to hear “He vanished a thousand years ago, drawn into the curse,” and another entirely to hear “He is still trapped within the world of evil spirits.”
Fear.
Desperate dependence.
That sharp, suffocating tension filled the air.
Then the Crown Prince asked,
“Where… is he now?”
[The Grand Magus currently dwells within someone.]
“What…?”
Even the Crown Prince whispered in disbelief.
This was it—the foreshadowing from the fourth dungeon: that the evil spirit could move between hosts, seeking a temporary vessel.
My brother had loved this twist.
The survivors began murmuring anxiously.
“Your Highness, that might mean—”
Sian stepped forward, seeming to grasp the implication. His expression had steadied—perhaps because his talent had returned, allowing him to command higher spirits again.
Or maybe it was just a façade to keep everyone calm.
Then, Yenniel quietly asked the mirror,
“Is the Grand Magus’s evil spirit residing within someone’s soul?”
[The evil spirit of the Grand Magus dwells within the soul of ■■.]
Everyone could see the missing word.
“This is insane,” Ivelyn growled beside me.
Even Duke Kyle’s face hardened.
The atmosphere froze over—utter silence pressing down like a weight.
And then—
CRASH!
The mirror exploded.
Shards flew in every direction, the sound echoing down the marble corridor like breaking thunder.
The fragments sparkled like falling snow as they scattered, some vanishing as they touched the ground, some landing softly on people’s shoulders.
“Wow, it’s snowing! April loves snow!”
I laughed and caught one on my palm, only for Ivelyn to yank my hand back sharply.
“Don’t touch that! …It’s dangerous.”
“Okay! I’m just so happy that Lady Ivelyn cares about me.”
Her expression froze for a second. Then—
[Ivelyn’s affection has slightly increased.]
“You really are a strange lady,” she muttered, glaring down at me.
Honestly, she was the strange one.
The shards felt cold—not like glass but freezing, almost alive. They melted away in my hands like ice.
‘Ice? But the mirror fragments we got from the second floor were made of glass…’
Behind the now-empty frame, dark blood poured freely, soaking into the carpet in thick streams.
No one spoke.
The tension twisted even tighter—the moment the mirror had declared that the Grand Magus’s spirit lived inside someone, mistrust spread like wildfire.
Everyone’s eyes darted from face to face.
Who was it?
Who had changed since entering the Inner World?
No one dared to speak, fearing both to accuse and to be accused.
Then someone finally broke.
“You’ve been different since we got here! You’re the Grand Magus, aren’t you?!”
“You’re the one who changed! You tried to abandon us on the fourth floor!”
The murmurs escalated to open shouting. Suspicion flared.
People accused, defended, and lied through their teeth—all desperate to survive.
I turned my eyes toward Sian and Yenniel’s group.
‘From Sian’s point of view, I’m probably the one who’s changed the most in the Inner World.’
But he wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He was too intelligent for that.
No system alert appeared.
Even Yenniel’s suspicion gauge stayed quiet.
Eventually, the survivors divided themselves instinctively:
Ivelyn, Duke Kyle, Yurel, and me with the noble faction.
The imperial loyalists together.
The commoners with their own kind.
It had turned into a witch-hunt event—the “Suspicion Gauge” phase.
If a character failed to answer a question properly, their suspicion level rose.
At least, that was the rule.
But with Ivelyn around—
“E-excuse me, Lady Ivelyn—”
“What?”
Her sharp tone made the noble stammer and step back immediately.
“I-I’m sorry…”
“If you’re going to speak, do it fast. We don’t have time for your stuttering. And remind me—what gives a lowborn noble the right to question me?”
Her scorn froze them where they stood.
Given her status as the future duchess of Devnoa—and Duke Kyle’s own rank—no one dared oppose them.
‘Typical villainess. If only she didn’t pick fights with Yenniel, she’d have everything.’
“If you want to accuse someone, bring me at least a count. Honestly—being interrogated by half-blood nobles? What an insult.”
And somehow… her arrogance worked.
“Lady Devnoa is as discerning as she is noble!”
“She would sense an evil spirit immediately!”
“Then we’re safe with her here!”
Ivelyn had apparently become a one-woman “evil spirit detector.” The nobles’ joy was pitiful—but convenient.
‘Well, as long as it keeps us out of trouble, I’ll take it.’
Our group was easily cleared of suspicion:
Ivelyn — passed.
Me (April) — too airheaded to suspect, passed.
Yurel — well-liked, passed.
Duke Kyle — …uh-oh.
The others kept sneaking glances his way.
‘Ah.’
I immediately understood why.
Kyle gave them a calm, amused smile.
“You all look nervous.”
That sly, unreadable grin made him look guilty as hell.
“I assure you, I’ve done nothing wrong.”
Sure you haven’t.
If the game had popped up a system message, it would’ve gone something like this:
[People find Duke Kyle extremely suspicious! Suspicion +15%.]
[Total Suspicion: 70%.]
Good thing this wasn’t a real-time execution event. I might’ve voted him off by mistake.
