Volume 2, Chapter 29-1 – All Lies

The tiered lecture hall of the old Art Department was as empty as an abandoned cathedral.

Cheryl sat alone in a chair in the middle of the classroom, her legs crossed, the toe of one boot tapping lightly every now and then.

“Ah… What in the world did I do?” Cheryl threw her head back and let out a long sigh.

‘Damn it.’

Even recalling a few fragments of how she had confronted Stella outside the Lionheart Society made the heat in Cheryl’s cheeks rise uncontrollably.

It had clearly just been an act.

She had clearly only been cooperating with Remedios’ absurd script.

Then why had her head gotten so hot that she had actually blurted out such filthy things?

Cheryl pursed her lips and thought indignantly.

It was all that commoner’s fault for daring to openly mock a Valentine for having such a meager figure!

To retaliate against that plebeian’s ridicule, she had simply decided to throw caution to the wind and crank the obscenity of Remedios’ script up another level.

Although recalling what had happened still felt unbearably embarrassing, for some reason, there was also a strangely liberating sort of enjoyment to it.

Cheryl had truly come to understand the fun of playing a deranged character.

She could say whatever she wanted, spout complete nonsense, and pay absolutely no attention to logic or aristocratic decorum. After all, they were nothing more than the ravings of someone psychologically twisted.

Casting aside her shame and venting however she pleased…

Was actually this much fun.

However…

Strictly speaking, as the eldest daughter of a prestigious family, doing something so unbecoming of her status was an utterly unforgivable stain.

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But who could blame her when she had already decided in her heart that she would become Stella’s sacrifice?

Cheryl lowered her eyes, her gaze falling upon the thorn mark in her palm.

As the entry ticket to the Sacred Blood Grail, the thorn mark would soon bring the two of them into the Corridor of Blood.

There, the blood priests formed from the deceased souls of the Valentine family heads throughout the generations would sit upon a high platform piled with white bones and flesh, watching over the successor of the present age.

If the Laxia Ritual was not completed according to the rules, the sole exit would never open, and those undying old things would not hesitate to tear apart anyone who defied them.

In the end, only one person would be able to walk out of the Sacred Blood Grail.

Cheryl had already accepted that she would be the sacrifice.

Since she was destined to become the step upon which Stella ascended toward the throne, then before her execution, indulging herself a little and cooperating with Elder Sister in acting out one absurd farce seemed perfectly reasonable.

Cheryl gently closed her hand, covering the mark.

She did not dislike this fate.

Or rather, if the person who ultimately walked out of the Grail was that Elder Sister who possessed golden-red bloodflame, then being devoured as her stepping stone somehow seemed like the ultimate romance.

Why not let her see?

Let her see Cheryl collapsing from utter exhaustion, her clothes disheveled, her entire body filthy.

And then, full of anticipation, watch to see how Stella would react.

Would Stella like her wounds, like the places where she had festered?

Like admiring a rose that had bloomed to its absolute fullest before rotting away, lamenting her death as though reciting poetry, her face filled with sorrow while her eyes smiled slyly.

Knock, knock.

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The sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted Cheryl’s thoughts.

Cheryl glanced at the clock on the wall.

It was not yet the Sixth Watch Remedios had arranged.

“The door is open.” She straightened her skirt and spoke as though nothing were wrong.

The doorknob turned, and someone walked in.

Dorothy Wesley.

The commoner who had openly mocked her just now.

“I came to settle… No, I came to talk to you about… the President.”

Dorothy slowly approached, step by step, her voice somewhat indistinct.

“Where is Stella?”

Cheryl asked casually without even looking directly at her.

“The President?” Dorothy stopped.

She slowly raised her head and stared sharply at Cheryl. Infinite pain, contempt, and intense hatred spilled from her pitch-black eyes.

“You dare mention her name?”

“…Forget those other shortsighted demons. At worst, they’re just useless fools who need a push… I’ll give them a chance. One day, those cowardly compatriots of ours will eventually awaken.”

“But you… parasites… a pack of parasites who know nothing except rotting underground and tearing at one another… You can’t see the sunlight at all, and you don’t deserve to possess it either.”

She drew a deep breath, letting the cold air linger inside her lungs.

“The President is our only hope… She is perfect, she is sacred! She promised us a future! She even bestowed upon us the power of Apostles.”

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Dorothy extended an index finger and pointed it at Cheryl like a gun.

“But how dare you… How dare you profane her with such filthy lies, how dare you slander her!”

“Biting every finger? Seducing someone and then abandoning them? How could the President possibly do something like that?!”

Cheryl narrowed her eyes slightly.

Even the dullest person should have understood after hearing this much.

“…So you’re that ghost?”

“Shut up, parasite.” Her eyes were icy as she looked at Cheryl as though staring at something unclean. “And just in case what you said was true… then you deserve to die even more!”

Dorothy had read every handwritten copy of Stella’s sermons over and over again, reading them day and night. She was filled with anticipation for every blueprint described within them.

Because of that, she felt especially murderous toward Cheryl for daring to commit such blasphemy.

Whether it was true or false, in Dorothy’s eyes, Cheryl’s seductive allure was saturated with evil.

She was a terrifying temptation, a flower of sin in full bloom. Her very existence was a provocation toward the President, a threat to every morally noble member of the Lionheart Society.

The surroundings became unnaturally quiet. The wind outside the windows stopped, and Cheryl sensed a strange gaze upon her.

She turned her head and looked toward the dust-covered full-length mirror in the corner of the classroom.

The mirror did not reflect her figure.

Within the hazy glass, a mass of liquid like mercury was slowly emerging.

It gradually condensed and stretched, eventually taking on the outline of a young girl.

The girl within the mirror was like a lake shrouded in thin mist. Her features could not be seen clearly, leaving only vague yet beautiful contours.

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Crack.

As though unable to withstand the pressure from within, the mirror suddenly exploded into countless tiny shards.

Those fragments did not fall to the ground. Instead, they remained suspended in the air, reflecting the light from outside the windows and cutting the entire classroom into countless shattered scenes.

The girl in the mirror stepped out of the void and emerged through the shattered mirror.

Holy fire ignited from thin air and condensed into countless silver blades. Like the dazzling camouflage of iridescent light, they spread across the sky in overwhelming splendor, silently diffusing outward until everything was enveloped within their winding edges.

The premonition of death surged in like a tide. Cheryl stood there, her crimson eyes reflecting the silver light that filled the air.

“Having received the President’s Holy Communion, I no longer need to wait until noon.”

Dorothy removed her glasses and tossed them onto the floor.

She crushed them beneath her foot, and the faint sound rang out with startling clarity.

Crack.

The crisp sound of Dorothy crushing the lenses was like a signal to attack. In an instant, the countless silver blades suspended throughout the classroom abruptly changed direction, weaving themselves into an airtight net that descended upon Cheryl to tear her apart.

“…Hmph.”

Cheryl gave a soft snort.

Something at this level was still nowhere near enough to threaten her.

After her previous duel with Stella on the training grounds, she had learned more than enough from the experience.

Since she could not possess unrivaled bloodflame and authority like Stella, then she had to find a shortcut that belonged to her alone.