Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired – Chapter 43

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Everything was black.

The ground beneath me was damp, like a swamp, and the space around me was vast and empty, my outstretched hands grasping at nothing.

Each step I took produced a squelching sound, my lower body sinking slightly, ripples spreading across the surface. Yet, the ground remained firm, supporting my weight.

It was a strange place.

I walked for what felt like an eternity, when I finally heard a faint sound.

*[…■■…■■…!] *

A distorted, unintelligible murmur, like a voice struggling to break through static.

But it was familiar. One of the voices from my dream. The one that had laughed, then vanished.

A voice, in this silent, empty space, was a welcome sign.

I cautiously approached the source of the sound, moving slowly, as if stalking a skittish animal.

I walked and walked, until I finally saw it. A sphere, floating in mid-air.

I searched the surrounding area, convinced the voice couldn’t be coming from a simple sphere, but there was nothing else.

It had to be the source.

[… ]

“…Hmm?”

I was contemplating how to interact with it, how to escape this place, when I felt it… watching me.

A chilling sensation crept up my spine, and I instinctively recoiled.

[…Heh heh heh…!!]

“…”

The sphere, which had been emitting a soft purple glow, suddenly turned towards me, a disturbing laughter echoing from within.

[…■■…! ■■■…■■■…!!]

It seemed to be… pleased? Its reaction unnerved me.

Then, teeth, sharp and jagged, materialized on its surface, forming a grotesque smile.

It slowly approached.

I could have run, but I didn’t want to risk losing my only chance of escape.

I stood my ground, and its smile widened.

It stopped inches from my face, and then… my head disappeared into its gaping maw.

[…■■…]

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A sharp pain in my neck jolted me awake.

I saw stars, then—

Crash—

“Ouch!”

A loud thud, like rocks colliding, echoed through the room, and someone yelped, falling backwards.

“You’re awake?!”

“…Saint?”

Hildegarde, her auburn hair shimmering in the dim light, clutched her forehead, her rosary swaying gently against her chest.

“Where… am I?”

“…The academy infirmary. We brought you here.”

She explained what had happened after I’d entered the sphere with Leon. The Headmaster had dispelled the barrier, and they’d found me unconscious, Leon’s body lying nearby.

Leon’s body? That was unexpected. I’d assumed they’d killed him after pulling me out of the sphere. I’d been unconscious for part of it, so I couldn’tbe sure.

“…Why are you here?”

“I have some questions for you, Brother.”

She sat up straighter, her demeanor more serious than usual.

And there were two presences outside the door, their hostility palpable, ready to burst in at the slightest provocation. Their hostility, however, wasn’t directed at Hildegarde, but at me.

“If you’re going to interrogate me… perhaps you should dismiss your guards. And their killing intent.”

“…!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I apologize. They insisted on accompanying me for my safety…”

She gestured towards the door, and the hostility receded slightly, though they remained close, clearly prioritizing her safety.

“Now… let’s begin.”

“Why the sudden change in—”

“Brother.”

“…Yes?”

“I believe… They descended upon you.”

For the first time, I understood the feeling of your mind going completely blank, of being utterly speechless. And in my case, the blankness was quickly replaced by a wave of nausea and rage.

And an uncontrollable surge of killing intent, so potent that the paladins guarding the door burst in, their faces etched with alarm.

“Saint!”

“Are you alright?!”

They rushed towards Hildegarde, but she remained calm, her gaze fixed on me, seemingly unaffected by my killing intent.

I apologized for my outburst, my killing intent receding as the paladins relaxed slightly, their hostility directed at me once again.

“…Are you sure? How can I believe that?”

“Kandel, would you bring me a mirror?”

One of the paladins, who’d been hovering awkwardly near the door, produced a small hand mirror and handed it to Hildegarde. She offered it to me.

“Would you mind checking your forehead, Brother?”

“…”

I took the mirror and brushed my hair aside.

A symbol. A symbol I’d seen countless times in churches and cathedrals, even as a decorative motif in marketplaces.

A chalice.

The symbol of the Goddess. Emblazoned on my forehead.

I dropped the mirror.

“What… is this?!”

“It’s a mark They left on you.”

“Why?!”

Hildegarde held up a hand, silencing me, but I couldn’t stop. The sight of that symbol, that mark of Their presence, filled me with revulsion, disgust, rage.

I conjured a small knife. The paladins lunged towards me, but I was faster.

I slashed at my forehead.

The paladins and Hildegarde stared at me, their expressions a mixture of horror and disbelief, but I ignored them.

The pain, like a spark of electricity, was intense, but I didn’t care. I had to get rid of this mark.

I cut again and again, the scraping, the tearing, the blood—until the paladins grabbed my hands, restraining me.

“Stop that!”

“Calm down!”

I struggled, but I was no match for two adult paladins.

Hildegarde sighed, rubbing her forehead, then approached me.

She was going to heal me, but I wouldn’t let her. The thought of her touch, of Their holy power, made me want to vomit. I felt a surge of animosity, even towards the faint traces of holy power emanating from her rosary.

“Don’t… don’t…!”

“W… What’s wrong?!”

“It’s just healing! Holy power! Don’t you understand?!”

‘That’s… what I don’t want, you bastards!’

I quickly regenerated my forehead and glared at her, daring her to approach. I showed her my unblemished skin, proving I didn’t need her healing.

She looked at me with a strange mixture of pity and understanding, then backed away. The paladins released my arms.

“…Brother, you truly are…”

“…Saint.”

“Yes?”

“…I want to meet Them.”

The paladins’ jaws dropped. They looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. I, a mere commoner, demanding an audience with the Goddess, a being even the Pope hadn’t met?

“That’s… what I came to discuss.”

“W-Wait, Saint?!”

“He-He’s going to meet… Them?!”

Hildegarde nodded, confirming their suspicions, and the paladins’ expressions turned even more grim. A meeting with the Goddess was a sacred dream for devout followers like them.

But I didn’t care about their feelings. I needed answers.

“How?”

“The mark.”

“…?”

“He said… if you channel your mana into the mark, your soul will be summoned to the divine realm.”

I thanked her and immediately channeled my mana into the mark, the chalice on my forehead, the mark that wouldn’t disappear, no matter how deeply I cut.

It was disrespectful, perhaps, but I didn’t care. I was filled with a single-minded desire to kill Them.

I felt my mana fill the chalice, then a pulling sensation, my consciousness being drawn towards something.

Whoosh—

As my vision faded, my eyes closing involuntarily, I saw Hildegarde’s lips move.

“Tranquiel…”

‘…Peace be with you…?’

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I opened my eyes to a blindingly white space, a stark contrast to the darkness I’d just left.

A golden-haired angel stood before me.

“Greetings. I’ve come to escort you.”

“…”

The thought that this might be related to the Goddess made my hands twitch, but I suppressed the urge to attack. I couldn’t waste my energy on this angel. I needed to conserve my strength, my rage, for Them.

I followed the angel, my heart pounding like a ticking time bomb.

We walked for a while, until we reached a massive temple, its marble floors gleaming, its towering columns inspiring awe.

“They await you inside.”

“…Thank you.”

I entered the temple and continued to follow the angel, until we reached a wooden door with a carved stone handle.

I opened the door, and the room beyond was surprisingly ordinary, not unlike the Headmaster’s office.

A desk piled high with documents, bookshelves lining the walls, small orbs of light flitting around, carrying papers.

And in the center of the room, a woman, seated on a chair, her head bowed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her long white hair cascading down her back.

[…I’m sorry…]

I froze.

Her voice…

It was familiar.

One of the voices from my dream. The warm, comforting voice that had apologized before vanishing.

The Goddess.

“…Finally…”

[… ]

“…Finally, we meet… haha…”

[… ]

“You… you…!”

[… ]

“You… bitch!!!!”

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