Chapter 48: Talking Past Each Other! A Father and Daughter’s Dialogue! p2
[A kind princess is always so easily moved.]
[The tragic story of a gentle master and his loyal maid is always so touching.]
[Elena Conquest Progress: 39%]
Shelley: ????
What the hell? How did this become a tragic story?
“Huh!? No way…”
“Miss Elena, are you letting your imagination run wild again?”
Looking at the scenery outside the carriage window, Shelley stretched, leaned back against the seat, and swayed with the carriage’s movements.
“Well, this is fine too. I don’t have to rush to explain things now.”
“I can take this chance to rest.”
“This… has been quite exhausting.”
Both mentally and… physically.
“Why does it feel like all the monsters and demons have come out of the woodwork at once…”
“The followers of the Goddess of Pain, the followers of Malar, the Hounds of Darkness… and even Congreve’s father…”
“Is there some other connection between them?”
His hazy eyes sharpened. Shelley leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands.
“Loviatar and Malar… They are allies!”
Loviatar was once a member of the Dark Gods, serving the former God of Murder, Bhaal, alongside Talona, the Goddess of Poison and Disease. But since Bhaal’s death in the last Time of Troubles, both goddesses had gradually submitted to the power of Shar, the Goddess of Night. However, after the return of Bane, the God of Tyranny, Loviatar’s loyalty to Shar began to waver. Because she had switched allegiances multiple times, Loviatar had connections with many dark and evil gods.
She got along very well with Malar, the God of the Hunt. She believed that the Beastlord’s bloody hunts were also a form of delightful torture. Loviatar utterly despised Ilmater, the God of Suffering, because that god always went out of his way to protect those who were supposed to be tormented.
Ilmater, the God of Suffering, also known as the Crying God or the Broken God. This Lawful Good intermediate deity was a kind-hearted, gentle, quiet, and peaceful god who willingly shouldered the suffering of the entire tormented world. He cared deeply for all children and young life, and he struck down any who dared to harm those under his protection.
His image was that of a man covered in wounds, these crisscrossing, terrible injuries symbolizing the suffering and torment he bore for the world. Although his lean, short body was clad only in a loincloth, and he was partially bald, his plain face always wore a comforting, gentle smile.
Ilmater was an ancient deity and a very close ally of Tyr, the God of Justice, and Torm, the God of Loyalty. They were known to the world as the Triad. He was hostile to gods who enjoyed spreading destruction and bringing pain and suffering, especially Loviatar and Talona. The very nature of these two goddesses was the complete opposite of the Broken God’s. His enemies also included Bane, Malar, Shar, Talos…
A long finger gently tapped his lips. Shelley chuckled.
“Things seem to be getting interesting.”
“Tyr and Ilmater are staunch allies. Loviatar and Malar are close allies. And the two factions are enemies…”
“The Temple of Tyr has wiped out the followers of Loviatar, and at the same time, the God of Suffering and the God of the Hunt are in opposition.”
“A battle between gods is never limited to a single city or kingdom. It spreads across the entire range of their conflicting domains of faith.”
“…Tsk.”
Shelley clicked his tongue, tapped his forehead in annoyance, and felt utterly speechless…
“Did something happen during this period that I don’t know about?”
“Honestly, who would bother to learn the history from eight or nine years before the game’s plot even starts!”
“…Not necessarily. I do a lot of research when I’m looking for strategy guides!”
**
“…It hurts a little.”
After being guided to the bathroom by Erin to wash up, Lilith returned to the room, her hand resting on her lower abdomen.
“So full…”
She had just pushed the door open when she saw a woman sitting with her back to her in a lounge chair by the window.
!!?
She quickly knelt on the floor and, suppressing her fear, said respectfully, “…Your Majesty, the King of Ir.”
What do I do? I saw that scene… Will I be silenced?
As a seasoned assassin, she never held out hope for a monarch’s mercy.
“Rise and sit.”
A voice that was both gentle and majestic sounded. Lilith didn’t dare to disobey. She obediently rose and sat on a stool.
Nadia turned to look at the uneasy high-level assassin and said calmly, “We do have some things to discuss.”
**
“Master Shelley! Lady Elena, she…”
Shelley had just stepped out of the carriage when an anxious Old Wyder rushed up to him. “She’s in your room with Lady Lydia right now.”
To Wyder’s surprise, Shelley’s expression wasn’t tense. In fact, he seemed somewhat relieved.
Shelley glanced at his small building and patted Wyder’s shoulder.
“It’s fine. They won’t get into a fight.”
“Has the Duke woken up yet?”
“Is there any news from the temple about Congreve?”
“Oh, right, has Bowen left yet?”
Infected by Shelley’s calm demeanor, Wyder composed himself and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Lady Sandy has returned. She is in the Duke’s room.”
Well, well. The big sister is back. The old man is worried I’m going to usurp power.
Honestly, do I look like that kind of ambitious, ungrateful wolf?
[You do!]
[You really do!]
Tsk!
“Lord Bowen was tied up… no, was safely sent away last night.”
Hmm… tied up? That reminds me of a pig waiting to be slaughtered for the New Year. No, I can’t insult pigs. Pigs are quite intelligent.
When it came to the last point, Old Wyder looked troubled, his expression conflicted. He glanced around, leaned closer to Shelley, and lowered his voice.
“According to the news from the Church of Justice, Lord Congreve has not regained consciousness, but…”
“Based on the wounds on his body, it’s presumed that he was not forced…”
Forced?
Shelley’s lips twitched imperceptibly, and he raised an eyebrow in mockery.
Of course he wasn’t. He was definitely willing.
After all, few men can resist a beautiful woman who can be both dominant and submissive. And if one isn’t enough… then a group will do.
Never underestimate the ability of an evil cult to corrupt the mind. They are masters of the craft. They can even use physical means to achieve a level of mental control comparable to a third-circle spell.
The only ones who can compete with them in this regard are some followers of devils and demons. By the way, it’s not just in corrupting minds. They have many other dark arts, such as skinning, crafting human-skin demon armor, torture…
And what’s worse, the nobles of this world are mostly a bunch of bored, decadent rich people constantly seeking thrills. Their combination is a match made in heaven, a perfect storm, dry wood meeting a raging fire, a widow meeting… ahem… Anyway, they’re very easily corrupted!
Having clarified the current situation, Shelley patted Wyder’s shoulder and turned to leave.
Seeing that Shelley was heading in the wrong direction, Old Wyder quickly said, “Where are you going now?”
Are you really not going to check on them? What if they start fighting?
“I’m going to see the Duke first.”
They won’t be fighting over there anyway. It doesn’t matter if I’m a little late.
“Alright, you don’t need to get involved in our affairs. Just focus on managing the estate.”
Waving a hand behind him, Shelley left the gesturing Wyder behind and strode away.
“…Yes, sir.”
Wyder looked up at the place where he had worked his entire life and sighed.
“…Will it really come to that?”
Seeing a gardener approaching in the distance, he bowed. Wyder straightened his back, putting on his usual stern expression. He gave a slight nod and, under the gardener’s respectful gaze, also left the main gate.
**
Sandy looked at Duke Bell, who was hidden in the darkness, and felt a sense of unfamiliarity. Even during the day, the curtains in the room were not fully drawn, only a small crack allowing a sliver of sunlight in, which didn’t directly hit the large bed. The dim, slightly cold environment of the room made her a little uncomfortable. Sandy got up and walked to the window, about to pull open the curtains.
Just then, she heard Duke Bell speak from the bed.
“Sandy, my daughter… do you know why I called you back?”
Pausing, she let go of the curtain. Sandy turned to look at the man who was so different from the one in her memory. His proud, silver-gray hair was now like a pile of dry straw. The handsome face that had once been pursued by all the noblewomen of Lunt now looked more like a starved, skin-and-bones ghoul. Old, hideous, and twisted, with a heavy air of decay.
“No… I don’t understand.”
“Even if that self-proclaimed genius Congreve really is a follower of an evil god, isn’t there still Bowen, the real idiot?”
There’s no way it would be Shelley’s turn to inherit the dukedom. What are you so worried about?
And from what Sandy knew of Shelley, that “third brother” of hers was not, as people imagined, filled with a lust for power. Even at salons and balls, he didn’t deliberately try to curry favor with the powerful, but simply maintained good relations with the ladies. He gave the impression of a socialite with no ambition, who enjoyed indulging in parties and women.
“Cough, cough… Bowen?”
Duke Bell on the bed let out a cold, mocking cough. He picked up a towel from the bedside, wiped his mouth, and said sarcastically, “Do you know what happened back then, after Shelley was brought to the estate and I had his bloodline verified?”
“You mean…”
No way!
Seeing Sandy’s eyes widen, Duke Bell laughed self-deprecatingly.
“Yes! It’s just as you think!”
“I was extra cautious back then. I had the paladin test all of your blood against mine…”
“And guess what the result was?”
He began to laugh wildly, coughing and laughing at the same time. He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
“Hahahahaha, cough, cough…”
“Only you are my child.”
“Only you!”
He slammed his fist on the headboard. The arm that could once easily crush an ogre could no longer even crack a fragile bedboard.
“They all betrayed me! Everyone betrayed me!”
“Only your mother… she didn’t betray me.”
“Hahaha!”
Just then, Sandy cut off his laughter. She said calmly, “So what? Did my mother dare to resist? She was just a common maid whom you raped while you were drunk.”
“What right did she have to betray you? She never even had the chance to love someone else.”
“Do you know, esteemed Duke Bell?”
Flames of rage ignited in Sandy’s eyes. She glared at the withered old man and said through gritted teeth, “The month after you raped her, she was supposed to go home and get married!”
“My mother was supposed to marry her childhood sweetheart!”
“You destroyed everything!”
“She was too ashamed to face her lover again, but for my sake, she endured the humiliation and lived here for a year.”
“And then…”
At this point, Sandy’s emotions suddenly calmed. The expression on her face became placid, and she stared at this “father” with icy coldness.
“She killed herself. She hanged herself in the house she had planned to be her marital home.”
“So tell me, for you, the one who destroyed all that was beautiful…”
“Esteemed Duke Bell…”
“How grateful… should my heart be?”
