“The fight between the angel and Julius will soon come to a conclusion, of course. It will end with the victory of my beloved husband, Julius, so let’s ask him after the fight.”
Was she a corrupted wife who became one with the devil after death, or a holy priestess who had lived her life as a faithful servant of God?
“Our wise Julius will open his eyes to your earnest words and make the right choice. I, the Emperor’s Nightmare, will keep my mouth shut. Well, it’s a simple bet—no tricks or anything like that. If you truly care for him, you can overcome this level of hardship, right?”
As if to provoke her, Nirhil gave a seductive smile and stroked Thalia’s cheek, briefly wetting her lips—lips as passionately crimson as her red roses.
“…Die! Don’t look at my husband with those filthy eyes!”
It happened before she even realized it.
The woman driven mad by love suddenly took back the control of the body—one that had been overtaken by the Nirhil persona.
Cecil Lionelta burst through the murky walls of her mind and sank her fist into Thalia’s cheek.
“Aaah! W-what are you talking about, you dirty devil? Don’t tarnish the relationship between me and my brother!”
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? When the two of us had a private meal at that restaurant and left, I saw the filthy look in your eyes. You dared to covet my husband!”
“I couldn’t stand it. I was disgusted. I felt like I was going insane.”
‘During the five years I was gone, how many women had looked at him with those dirty eyes?’
‘I was careless, I was foolish, I was lazy!’
‘And while I wasted time like that, my scent would slowly fade from Julius’s body. No—I have to hold him in my arms again, I had to fill him with my presence.’
Cecil shook her head as if in a panic, hugging her trembling body and turning her gaze toward her beloved husband.
He stood, facing the fight with the same cool, dignified, and composed demeanor as always.
In the hands of the blond-haired inquisitor, Julius Tapnel, was a holy sword, pure white and gleaming.
[That is the holy sword Nerondir. Hehehe, as expected of my husband. The angel’s defeat is already decided.]
She couldn’t even hear the proud voice echoing in her head.
As if possessed, Cecil slowly began walking toward his broad back.
To escape this suffocating moment, she had to reach his side—quickly.
Cecil, the brown-haired woman consumed by thoughts teetering on the edge of ruin, moved to leave.
But someone tripped her—someone who was willing to lay down her life to protect her brother.
A noble inquisitor from Telmere.
Thalia Ziffnel climbed onto Cecil’s body, her black hair whipping wildly as flames began to erupt from her.
“With this… with this, we can stop it! We can go back to how it used to be!”
Back to those days when Brother Julius, Brother Krail, Priest Brukin, and Priestess Emily all lived with smiles.
To erase that day ten years ago, when everything had started to go wrong.
Long ago, when she thought of her poor father—slain at the hands of the woman he had loved…
A faithful and devoted believer, who hated devils, threw her fist toward evil.
Ever since this woman had appeared in her life, everything had started to crumble.
Julius Tapnel… he was a man who deserved happiness.
He was someone great, a man meant to live and be worshiped by all people.
He was not someone who could be held back by devils, nor by mere love—or by such a woman!
The woman who had guarded her precious feelings for years now struggled to reclaim her happy past, letting out a beast-like howl, her anguish spilling from her lips.
Even as she was struck by the blow, she stretched out her hand and released her pure white flames toward Cecil, who was crawling toward her husband.
── Tak.
“…No, I don’t know about anything else, but these clothes must never be soiled.”
Her white blouse, still pristine no matter how many times it tumbled on the ground, stood out with its pretty frills and neatly tied brown ribbon.
A long time ago, Julius had spent all of his salary to give her clothes as a gift. The sparks flying toward her, she clenched her fist, raised her bright eyes, and gave a gentle scolding.
“Brother Julius must live a happy life. He is not someone who deserves to be defiled by an evil devil like you!”
The black-haired girl with big, tearful eyes struggled desperately on top of Cecil, white flames pouring from her body.
The wife of the heretic inquisitor, who was watching her in silence, curled the corner of her mouth and whispered to the girl.
“That’s why he has to be by my side. Because his happiness is with me.”
‘No, it has to be me.’
At those words, a surge of blue energy exploded above their heads, and golden light powerful enough to blow away the delicate bodies of the women tangled together shot out from the holy sword toward the angel.
It was the angel of mercy and love, whose upper body had been burned away along with the Immortal Priestess clinging to her wings.
Heretic inquisitor Julius lowered his head for a moment, watching the slowly fading celestial being.
Without hesitation, he tossed the golden holy sword aside.
He began running toward the two women thrown away by the explosion’s aftermath.
To his left, a woman with brown hair lay on the crumbling ground, her body barely hanging on.
To his right, a black-haired woman knelt, clutching her chest.
They had committed a massacre aimed at each other’s hearts, but fortunately, neither seemed to have suffered any critical injuries.
Julius looked for a moment at Thalia’s exhausted face—the girl who had been like a younger sister to him—then turned his head and ran toward his wife without hesitation.
A scream rang out behind him.
“No, no, Brother! That’s not your wife—it’s the devil! Listening to the devil’s whispers will only lead to ruin. Please, please come to your senses!”
Thalia chased after him, desperately clinging to the hem of his trousers.
But his broad back only moved farther away.
Watching her brother run into the devil’s arms—engulfed in her magical aura and embracing her without the slightest hesitation—the girl choked out her final plea like a prayer.
“You are not alone! Priest Brukin, Priestess Emily, Brother Krail, and I… we’re all here! Please… come back!”
Did her final words finally reach the priest’s ears?
Julius, holding the devil in his arms, slowly turned his head.
A black-haired girl was reflected in his eyes.
“Don’t look at other women in front of me, Julius.”
The devil’s voice rang in her ears like a death sentence.
At Cecil’s words, his turning head stopped, and soon their lips met—tongues intertwined in a decadent union between a man and a w0man intoxicated with each other.
Quadang──
Thalia tripped on the broken ground and fell.
The last thing she saw was—
‘I won, loser.’
Blue eyes brimming with joy, belonging to the woman proudly claiming her husband’s lips.