The Villain Bought the Female Lead - Ch. 114
<The Voice>
It was said that there were four cardinals in the world.
And it belonged to the power of Amon, the most influential among them.
The voice had played a significant role in expanding Amon’s influence.
Although it could only be used on a <designated person>.
It manipulated many flows of the world through its use.
Here was how the process of the voice worked.
One day, without warning, a certain voice began to be heard from within, stirring the depths of the individual’s mind little by little, very subtly.
At first, the person hearing the voice only detected a slight difference from their own opinions, so minor that it slipped by almost unnoticed.
Most people considered the voice to be their own thoughts and accepted it without resistance.
In the beginning, even if they followed the voice, it didn’t feel much different from their original intentions, so they didn’t even realize they were hearing it.
The problem, however, lay in the fact that this <slight difference> gradually grew over time.
For example.
Let’s say a person intended to acquire <A>.
Their will was to get <A>, and this was a very simple matter.
But then, the voice intervened slightly, subtly redirecting the path, leading them to acquire <A1>, which was quite similar to <A>.
So far, this was fine.
<A1> still aligned with their initial intention.
And no issues arose, with the resulting outcome being nearly identical.
However, as the influence of the voice grew day by day, it began to drastically twist the path.
What started as <A1>, <A2>, <A3> slowly turned into <B1>, <B2>, <B3>.
Eventually, it became <Z100>, <Z99>.
Completely diverging from the person’s original will and resulting in entirely different thoughts and outcomes.
Lilians must have heard the voice for at least 20 years.
Over time, she came to rely solely on what the voice showed her, abandoning her own thoughts, which led to contradictions.
Lilians truly loved her daughter, Erica.
To the point where Erica was the most precious person in the world to her, and she would do anything for her.
But… let’s rewind a little.
The original event that led Erica to be inducted into the Goddess Church. Caliculea, who was hiding in the theater.
Who was it that gave Erica the ticket to that theater?
It was none other than her own biological mother, Lilians.
Was this a coincidence? Some might dismiss it as such.
<Coincidentally>, the ticket Lilians obtained led to the theater where Caliculea was hiding, and <coincidentally>, Caliculea knew through the scripture that Erica would come.
A perfectly scripted scenario.
Linking everything by chance.
… it couldn’t be.
If it was such a scenario, it would be better off burned.
Lilians, having lost her control to the voice, had her love for Erica distorted and exploited.
Bishop Caliculea belonged to the <Formist> faction.
And the <Formists> were one of the many factions led by Cardinal Amon, it was easy to connect the dots.
Unbeknownst to her, Lilians was aiding the Goddess Church and pushing Erica toward death.
But then, something unexpected happened.
I intervened, disrupting their script.
Erica, who was supposed to be inducted into the church, lost her narrative logic, and now, to rewrite it, they would need much more distortion and time.
As a result, Amon likely gave up on trying to induct Erica, and Lilians, having served her purpose, was discarded by Amon.
The voice that once spoke to her was no longer heard.
Chances were high that the fragments of power that had been scattered were retrieved.
It was unclear how often the voice spoke to her, but now, months had passed, and Lilians had begun to notice something was wrong, showing signs of severe anxiety.
Without the pillar of support she had relied on for so long, she could no longer find her way on her own.
…
I knew how to find a way to save her.
The key was whether Erica would accept this proposal or not.
As with Frikkanrisk, I could claim to know the future and present logical arguments to deceive Erica, but I wouldn’t do that this time.
Since possessing Vargan, I’d been building a new relationship with Erica.
And I wanted to verify something as a kind of mid-point check.
***
Vargan and Erica walked along the lake, which was cloaked in darkness. The reason they chose this place was simple.
Erica didn’t want to go far.
Currently, she lacked the energy or thoughts to hold a conversation. She just wanted to hurry back and stay by her mother’s side.
Vargan read those emotions in her dim eyes. Her small mouth opened.
“… where did you hear about this?”
“Isn’t it odd to think I wouldn’t know about your mother’s illness?”
“Someone from the Portlet family must have told you. I don’t know who, but they needn’t have bothered.”
Erica’s voice was so faint it seemed fragile.
Vargan and Erica didn’t look at each other; they just followed the path around the lake.
Even though Vargan had called for this meeting, he didn’t push the conversation forward, tossing out questions or raising topics.
Instead, it was Erica, who wanted to end the meeting, who carried on.
“If you called me out here, state your business. I don’t want to drag this out.”
“Simply sticking by her side without knowing the real cause won’t improve the situation.”
Very few knew about <the voice>.
Erica herself didn’t know why her mother was in this state.
A mother who had always been kind and cherished her now suddenly showing strange symptoms must be terrifying for her.
Erica’s previously exhausted eyes sharpened a little, and she glared at Vargan.
“Did you call me out here to mock me?”
“No. That’s not it.”
Vargan met Erica’s cold gaze. Cold as it might be, it was not enough to freeze anything.
He promptly moved to <verify>.
To confirm the relationship formed through the story and emotions thus far.
“Erica, how much do you trust me?”
“What?”
“Let me repeat myself since you seem to have misheard.”
No hesitation.
He drove it straight in, using direct language like a spear.
“I asked how much you trust me right now.”
“… trust you? Why⎯”
“As I said. I know you hold negative feelings toward me because of the past. I’m not asking you to quantify it, just give me a rough sense….”
“⎯ Schugenhartz.”
Erica interrupted Vargan.
Much like when he had suddenly burst through her door.
She wasn’t directly angry, but her emotions were wrapped in a quiet sadness.
There was a hint of moisture in her sorrowful words. She continued.
Erica was exhausted at this point.
“I’m leaving.”
She turned away completely, ensuring her face was no longer visible.
The emotions softened by her mother’s situation spilled out in a brief moment.
She wiped her hand across her cheek and walked away.
Or at least she tried to.
“You can’t leave.”
Vargan grabbed her hand, preventing her from walking away.
His hand was hardened from grueling training.
Erica tried to free her forcibly held hand, but perhaps due to not eating or sleeping recently, she lacked the strength.
“Let go.”
“……”
“I said, let go—!”
“I haven’t heard your answer yet. I can’t let you go until I do.”
Like a tug-of-war, the tension repeatedly ebbed and flowed, but eventually, it halted as Erica’s strength gave out.
She threw his hand off in exasperation.
Then, she turned her body back toward Vargan. A fire, rekindled in her once defeated eyes, now burned bright.
“Do you really want to hear it that badly?”
The flame in Erica’s eyes was born from anger. The trigger was Vargan’s recent behavior and words.
But the source of that rage lay in the past.
Erica’s long-restrained fury was unleashed.
“Is this really what you want—to make me suffer just to hear that answer?”
Once released, the torrent of emotions was uncontrollable, even for Erica herself.
The thin barrier of restraint she had maintained collapsed like a fragile wooden plank, unable to hold back the flood of feelings.
“… why? Do you want to enjoy watching me suffer like before? Do you want to see me in pain and sadness again? Do you want to burn those images… into your memory?”
“That’s not it, Erica.”
“Then why are you doing this—! You’re sharp. You know what situation I’m in, don’t you? So… shouldn’t you be acting differently?”
At the end of her sentence, Erica’s eyes quivered violently. It was a tiny yet intense tremor.
“You could just leave me alone, couldn’t you, while I suffer on my own?”
“……”
“If you’re my fiancé… whether it’s out of fondness or hatred, if you have even the smallest bit of care for me, then… please don’t throw stones at me while I’m bleeding.”
She spoke with a trembling voice.
It had been four years since Erica last spoke that word.
“Please, Vargan….”
At that moment, she was freed from his grasp. Now liberated, Erica tried to hold back her sobs as she walked toward the mansion.
Vargan just watched her retreating figure in silence.
Inside him, reason and emotion clashed as he tried to process Erica’s reaction.
“……”
Perhaps a moment to catch his breath…
He seemed to need it.
***
Back in her mother’s room, Erica was exhausted.
Her physical and emotional energy were already depleted, and now Vargan had drawn out the last of what remained.
It felt like there were no tears left to cry.
The tear stained on her pale cheeks had dried.
In the dimly lit, spacious room, only Erica and her mother were present. Just the two of them.
If her mother were awake, she would have noticed the tear marks on Erica’s face and hastily wiped them away with a handkerchief. But her mother was still asleep.
Looking at her mother’s closed eyes, Erica began to feel a dry, creeping fear.
Even though her emotions were drained, it felt as if her mother’s anxiety was seeping into her. A chill ran through her body.
She wished her mother would mumble something, anything, as she had earlier, but now even that had stopped.
What if… she never woke up?
Was she retreating into a dream to escape the harsh reality?
Erica was conflicted.
Should she wake her, or let her sleep?
Was she merely resting, or slipping away?
She couldn’t tell.
If she woke her up, would it cause her more pain? Should she just leave her? Was there any way to check? How could she find a way to bring her mother even the slightest bit of comfort?
Though countless thoughts and calculations swirled through Erica’s mind, none of them were helpful.
On the outside, Erica always acted sharp and cold, guarded against anything unfamiliar.
But inside, she was fragile, so fragile that a mere touch could crumble her.
The strong exterior she projected was only to protect her vulnerable core.
Now, with her mother’s condition worsening, Erica’s thoughts were spinning out of control.
… knock.
… knock, knock.
In the deep of night.
Erica’s eyelids fluttered open as she lay beside the bedridden Lilians.
She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep.
She only knew that now, her eyes were open, so she must have just woken up.
She thought so.
She remembered that Schugenhartz had come by, and that she had returned to her mother’s side, lost in thought, before drifting off.
Judging by the mana around her, morning was still far off. It had been a deep, almost intoxicating sleep, but it hadn’t lasted long.
—Knock, knock.
Erica heard a knocking sound again.
It was not coming from the door. It sounded like it was from outside the window.
It was the sound of something pecking, like a bird’s beak.
Erica turned her gaze toward the source of the sound.
There, she spotted a bird, glowing with a yellow light.
Drawn to it as if entranced, Erica rose from her seat and approached the window.
From the outside, it appeared to be the same magic she encountered at the Academia when receiving her mother’s letters.
Erica opened the window to confirm it.
The yellow bird flew in and circled around her.
It behaved just the same.
Unless specifically directed otherwise, such a motion wouldn’t happen.
After circling several times, the bird landed on Erica’s shoulder, then burst into a shower of stars.
The stars gathered and formed a letter.
“……”
Holding the letter, Erica glanced at her mother, who was still lying in bed.
It wasn’t a spell cast by her mother.
So, who could it be…?
Erica tore open the seal of the envelope and checked its contents.
What emerged were sheets of paper, torn in various places.
The tattered pieces had been reassembled into a readable form, crumpled but recognizable.
The handwriting and texture of the paper matched those she had placed inside the detestable cat doll she received from Vargan.
Erica skimmed through the contents.
The magic of the yellow bird.
The letter inside, with the same texture as before, read.
<Erica. I know about the voice.>
It was written in his unmistakable handwriting, though the message was entirely different from before.