I Became the Martial God's Youngest Disciple-Chapter 179

Perist scanned the suddenly silent surroundings, lifting the corner of her mouth into a faint smile. "Once again, it is my victory."

Who was this declaration meant for?

She paused, wincing briefly at a sharp pain in her shoulder, then smiled again. "Poor things. This time... yeah, this time was really fun. The most realistic and enjoyable yet. Honestly, it was a little scary, too. I was curious what it would feel like to actually face a threat to my life. So this is how it feels."

Perist steadied herself, and her smile deepened.

At that moment, Seren's rapier sliced through the air, but Deathberry's pale hand caught the hilt before the blade could reach her eye.

Watching the rapier freeze inches away, Perist said calmly, "I won't get hit twice. I'm not an idiot, Seren."

Seren gasped for breath. She could probably summon the ice storm one more time, but even that wouldn't change the outcome.

"Seren. My first friend. I really liked you."

"So you're going to kill me despite liking me? Well, I don't want to be stuffed like a doll either. I don't like that."

Seren sneered openly, but Perist responded without a hint of offense. "How can that be? I just thought I could visit the Goodspring family later. I don't know if the real Seren is like you."

"What?"

Seren's confusion deepened.

Suddenly, a low rumble shook the entire building, likely from the floor below.

"This sound..." Perist's expression twisted oddly as her eyes fixed on empty space once more.

After a moment, she blurted in a slightly flustered voice, "He is alive? There is no way—"

Then, a flash of light streaked through the air as someone sprinted swiftly toward Perist.

Charon Woodjack? Only Seren caught the movement clearly. Had he used a blessing? His incredible speed suggested it wasn't ordinary. Perhaps it was his last resort.

Perist noticed Charon's approach too late. His large hand clamped tightly around her neck.

Instinctively, Perist grabbed his wrist, staring at him in dismay. "H-how..."

Charon's body dripped blood. Though Perist did not see it, his muscles spasmed violently, as if pushed to their absolute limit.

Charon sneered, blood trickling from his nose. "Not falling for feigned death is among the basics of hunting. I guess the imperial family's members have never gone hunting."

"Ha, haha..."

"Stop the dolls' movements," Charon demanded. "Princess Perist, you've lost."

At his words, Perist only smiled.

Had she finally gone mad? Bleeding heavily, Charon stared at her. If I kill this woman here, will the dolls stop? Or will they go berserk?

The second possibility had kept him from killing her. It was too great a risk.

Just then, Perist looked distressed. It wasn't in response to Charon's threat, but as if she was weighing her own strategy. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, searched for a way to turn the tide.

Without a word, Charon tightened his grip.

Perist's face flushed red. She struck his arm hurriedly, forcing his hold to loosen slightly. She gasped for breath and slowly closed her eyes. With a thud, Deathberry, which had been glaring at Karon while standing, collapsed to the ground. Perist had stopped controlling it.

This was exactly what Charon had hoped for, but what she said next stunned him beyond measure. "Okay, Deathberry. I lost this time."

"What?"

"So let's end this round here. Somehow, my head feels fuzzy, and my shoulder aches badly. It's different from usual..."

Silence fell.

"Are you listening, Deathberry?"

Charon had thought this woman was mad many times, but now he wondered if she truly had lost her mind. Yet despite that thought, a chill crawled deep inside him.

Before he could place the source of that feeling, Charon blurted out, "You... What the hell are you talking about?"

"Huh...?" Perist looked more shocked and confused than he was. "Why aren't you all disappearing?"

"Crazy girl!" A sudden surge of uncontrollable rage burst forth, barely masking the deeper fear beneath. Charon glared at Perist with his remaining eye, tightening his grip.

"Wait. Something's wrong with the princess." If not for the cold voice whispering in his ear, Charon would have broken Perist's neck right then.

Charon never obeyed orders from anyone he did not recognize as his superior. He ignored requests as well. But Seren had proven her worth several times during this battle, so naturally, he loosened his grip.

Perist coughed violently and looked at Charon with an expression of pure fright, completely unlike her usual confident demeanor. This wasn't just a mask. It was a drastic reversal, as if her personality had flipped.

"W-wait..." She coughed again. "I-I can't... breathe..."

Seren spoke quietly. "I have always felt uncomfortable. I have many questions about the attitude you showed and the few words you inadvertently spilled, but let's start with this—"

Perist's coughing cut her off.

"What do you mean by you lost?" Seren asked.

Perhaps sensing the killing intent in Seren's voice, Perist trembled slightly. She glanced at Charon, who still gripped her collar roughly. The shadow of fear on her face gradually grew. Her expression turned into one of sudden realization that something had gone terribly wrong.

"I-I mean..." Perist stammered, struggling to form words.

Charon's patience snapped. He leaned closer and threatened, "Perist Scarlett. Answer me quickly. Your speech function will work just fine even if I cut off all your limbs."

Only then did Perist shout urgently, "B-but...! This is all... a dream, right?"

"What?"

Perist spoke as if losing her mind. "Y-yes...! It's a dream so vivid it barely differs from reality... You're all inhabitants of this dream, playing the role of intruders—No, wait... don't tell me..."

For the first time, they saw that when nonsense crossed a certain threshold, language failed.

As Seren and Charon's faces twisted in confusion, Perist's desperation deepened. She trembled, as if wracked by genuine pain.

"Ugh, ack... It hurts... T-the sword in my shoulder... my ankles are swollen, and my fingernails—"

"Shut up and get to the point," Charon barked.

The killing intent in his voice made Perist shiver as she forced herself to speak. "I... just... detest the imperial family... I hate being part of it... But if this is a dream... I don't have to be... I can commit rebellious acts here without consequence..."

Though scattered, her words came through clearly.

"So... everything happening here has no connection to reality... It doesn't affect me... That's what I heard."

"You heard that?" Seren's voice sharpened.

"From whom?" Charon demanded.

"That..." Perist hesitated.

"Tell me quickly. Who the hell told you that?"

"D-D-De..." she murmured, "Deathberry..."

At that moment, the fallen Deathberry started moving.

"You still—"

"N-no! I-I didn't do it!" Perist shouted desperately, waving her still-moving left arm.

No threads appeared from her hands, and the fear in her voice was genuine.

Charon and Seren fell silent, watching Deathberry move on its own.

Though dolls moving independently was not unusual, Deathberry's motions were eerie.

It rose with jerky, broken movements, twisting its joints unnaturally. Then it shuffled forward with stiff, grinding steps.

They knew they needed to act, yet no one could move.

With each step that the doll took, miasma seemed to seep through its skin, soon swirling into a mist that engulfed them all.

In the meantime, Deathberry reached the window and sat on the sill. With a heavy thud, it stopped moving.

Perist forgot her pain for a moment and murmured, "Deathberry?"

Deathberry gave no response. It resembled a wind-up doll finishing its last move before shutting down. Its head drooped slightly and stayed still.

A cold wind blew across their skin, oddly warm and unpleasant, as if a vile monster licked their cheeks.

Though Deathberry had stopped, no one moved. The oppressive atmosphere pressed down on them, heavy as silence itself.

Seren swallowed hard, recalling what Luan had said.

"Is it possible that they are both church members?"

Seren had been foolish. If she had considered one possibility, she should have considered its opposite as well. Why had she never entertained the thought that neither member of the imperial family belonged to the church?

Damn. It was painfully obvious now. Her own negligence had blinded her. Seren had assumed one of the imperial family was tied to the church, and that assumption had made Luan trust her words.

That damned Laplace's New Book... It did offer some excuses. Though it was a divine book containing unique prophecies and a clear record of the disaster to come, the true mastermind remained vague and elusive.

If Perist was merely a puppet, there would be no point in killing her here. TThis world wouldn't vanish, and the dolls wouldn't stop moving.

The puppeteer, the one they believed pulled the strings behind the scenes, was actually just another puppet? If this kind of frustrating twist appeared in a novel, Seren would have quit reading immediately.

Just as self-reproach started to consume her, the glass trembled.

"Ahahaha!"

The dolls that had been cut, pierced, and torn apart burst into laughter in unison.

If the dolls seen so far were simply instruments of slaughter, now it seemed their only role was to mock. They did nothing but laugh.

Their laughter scraped at their minds like nails on a chalkboard. It felt like watching a moment from a forgotten age, one none here had lived through. It marked the herald of the demon king's descent.

As Glenn had said, every member of the imperial family had someone to lean on.

Perist had been speaking to Deathberry all along. Her tone was never that of someone talking to a mere doll.

What if the princess truly heard Deathberry's voice? What if she wasn't talking to herself or losing her mind? What if she was genuinely conversing with the doll?

Then the realization struck—the dolls were not the only ones laughing.

The blood-red moon beyond the window trembled violently, and its surface changed. At first, they thought it was an illusion. The moon's surface was said to appear different depending on the viewer's angle.

However, this was different. A face slowly formed on the blood moon, and the moon itself burst into laughter.

For the first time in her life, Seren's face drained of color as she faced mind-shattering madness.

Deathberry's body changed as well. Devil horns sprouted from its temples. The lifeless doll's form now pulsed with a pale vitality, more like death's grip than life itself.

When its eyes opened, they revealed strange reversed colors—white irises, black sclera.

The moment their eyes met, everyone stopped breathing. They realized that the Blood Moon Demon King had descended.