Salvation Through Delusion C55

Chapter 55

With the faintest strength left in my fingers, I wriggled them enough to pull out the shard of porcelain I’d hidden in my sleeve.

Trying to saw through the rope around my wrists without even seeing it was far from easy. The shard’s jagged edge bit into my skin, and warm blood trickled down my hand—but desperation dulled the pain.

Just a bit more… just a little more—

Snap.

Something gave. I tugged on the rope around my wrist, and sure enough—it had loosened.

Yes!

I yanked harder until one hand slipped free. The skin was raw and torn, stinging sharply, but I had no time to care. Right then, I heard the iron door clanking open.

Damn it—weapon. I need a weapon.

My eyes darted around frantically. The room was bare—nothing but filth and shadows.

Mo’s calm, ever-unhelpful voice chimed in:

[There are no items in this room that can be used as weapons.]

“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. “A club, a stick—anything would’ve—”

Before I could finish, a faint glow flared from my chest.

“What the—?”

The light grew stronger, pulsing. I looked down—and realized the source.

The small twig Myeongdok had given me—the one I’d worn as a charm around my neck—was shining.

The glow intensified, and before I knew it, the twig was growing.

“Wait—what—”

No time to think. Instinctively, I grabbed it as it elongated. By the time I blinked, the little charm had become a long, gnarled staff—its texture rough like bone, humming faintly in my grip.

Creeeak.

“Hey, what the—how are you—”

The first thug stopped mid-sentence the instant he saw me standing. I didn’t hesitate. I swung the staff.

Fwhooom—!!

That wasn’t just the air whistling.

A gale roared through the narrow room, followed by a deafening crash.

The thug flew. Like a baseball slammed by a bat, he shot across the room and smashed into the iron door.

Screeech! KWA-TANG!

“Guh—!”

He crumpled to the ground with a strangled grunt. But neither I nor the second thug moved. Our gazes were fixed on the door—now crumpled like a sheet of paper.

“……”

“……”

For a brief moment, silence. The other man looked as stunned as I was.

What the hell kind of power…? That door’s solid iron.

We both turned our eyes to the first thug, who wasn’t moving—and then to the staff in my hands.

“Wh-what is that thing?” the second thug stammered.

Good question.

Instead of answering, I tested it again.

Vwoooom—!!!

“Gkkhh—!”

He shot backward, faster and harder than the first. He slammed into the far wall, and the impact echoed like thunder.

KA-DOOOM!

The sound rattled through the entire building as part of the wall collapsed.

Dust showered the corridor. I blinked, then slowly looked down at the staff in my hands.

Myeongdok-nim… what on earth did you give me?

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t found Baron Ewik,” Ottmar’s voice was sharp with irritation as she entered Torida’s quarters late that night.

Torida immediately dropped his gaze, not daring to meet her eyes. Zab frightened him, yes—but Ottmar, his Sword Expert lieutenant, was infinitely worse. She was the kind of person who didn’t need to threaten you twice.

“The Grand Duke will be… very disappointed,” she said coolly. “And you know what that means. You won’t get a second chance.”

Torida swallowed hard. “Adeye Rue… he’s been resisting far longer than expected.”

“Resisting?” Ottmar’s brow lifted in disbelief.

“I—I don’t know why he won’t talk,” Torida stammered. “They said he’s all looks and no brains, but even after being beaten so badly his face is unrecognizable, he hasn’t said a word.”

That, at least, made Ottmar pause.

“So, Adeye Rue’s face was ruined… and he still kept silent?”

“Yes. They say he changed after coming back from the dead—like he’s a completely different person—”

“Enough excuses.”

Ottmar’s tongue clicked sharply, cutting him off.

“The Grand Duke has been patient long enough. If this mansion really does hide the ancestral records, as you claim, then we’ll simply tear down the walls and find them.”

She turned to her subordinates. “Prepare to break the wall.”

“N-no! You can’t!” Torida panicked, stumbling forward. “This mansion—there’s a divine ward here! Baron Ewik said if it’s disturbed, something terrible will—”

“What ‘terrible’ thing could that be? A spirit abandoning its master?”

Ottmar’s eyes swept the decaying hall. The Ewik estate was filthy, half-rotted, more like a haunted ruin than a noble’s home.

And all this because of superstition? Pathetic.

“But if we harm the estate, no one will survive,” Torida whispered desperately. “Lady Silian said—her family’s terrified of it. They won’t even repair a broken window—”

“Do you actually believe that nonsense?”

She gestured curtly, and two soldiers forced Torida to his feet. One of them shoved a hammer into his trembling hands.

“Go on,” Ottmar ordered. “Prove it. Either test this ‘curse’—or die now.”

Torida’s knees nearly buckled. But when the cold edge of a blade pressed against his neck, he froze.

“I—I’ll do it!”

His voice cracked. Raising the hammer with shaking arms, he screwed his eyes shut—and swung.

CRACK!

The hammer sank deep into the old wall, scattering a thick cloud of dust.

Everyone held their breath.

Nothing happened.

No lightning. No screams. Just the musty stench of decay and a few men coughing.

When the silence stretched on, Ottmar’s lips curved into a cold smile.

“So that’s it. The Ewik family let this place rot because they were afraid of upsetting a spirit’s mood. Cowards to the last.”

Torida blinked at her words, dazed. Was that all? Just fear of being abandoned by a spirit?

Then—

RUMBLEEEEE—

A deafening roar exploded from deep underground. The ground trembled violently.

Startled, the men bolted for the door—only to stop dead.

They had opened it, but behind it wasn’t a hallway. It was a solid wall.

“Why is everyone suddenly obsessed with Adeye Rue?”

From her hiding spot near the Ewik manor, Enya tilted her head, brows furrowed. She’d been tracking Borhumi’s movements under Tyroc’s orders, but this… this was strange.

“Everyone?” drawled Haas beside her, yawning. “Not me.”

Enya shot him a look. “I wasn’t talking about you. I meant everyone else—His Grace, the Borhumi side, all of them.”

“There’s probably a reason. Don’t think too hard about it.”

Unlike Enya, who was brimming with restless curiosity, Haas just wanted to wrap things up and go back to the inn.

“What could that guy possibly have that makes them care?” Enya muttered.

“A pretty face,” Haas said dryly.

She turned, scowling. “You’re not implying that our Duke has fallen for Rue’s face, are you?”

“What? No,” Haas replied quickly. “I just meant—he’s objectively attractive. But come on. The guy’s a fool who only ever chased after men. There’s no way His Grace would—”

“He’s not like that anymore.” Enya cut him off. “He changed. After he came back from the dead, he can’t even touch men. Breaks out in hives if he does.”

Haas blinked. “You’re joking.”

“It’s true. Died and came back different.”

“…From inside a monster’s stomach, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, okay. That’d do it.”

He nodded solemnly, as if that explained everything. Then he frowned thoughtfully.

“Still, no matter how much he’s changed, he’s not the kind of person His Grace would be drawn to. The Duke’s never been ruled by emotion. Even his future bond partner has to be someone useful to the House. That’s why he’s stayed single this long. Though, lately…”

“Lately what?” Enya pressed, eyes lighting up.

Haas froze. Damn it. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Wait—did you just say he’s considering a bond partner? Who?”