It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 103

“N-No! Don’t do this!!”

“As soon as the bracelet detaches, cast the barrier. Everyone, prepare yourselves.”

With the corruption already at this level, every second counted. Hesitating for even a moment could make it impossible to save Susanna Leroy’s soul.

Hans focused his divine power into his eyes and scanned her body again. The spot where her arm had been severed earlier had completely reattached—no trace remained. It was clear now: her body was being devoured by the Fragment of the Demon King.

It’s not just part of the arm… I have to cut off the whole thing.

He channeled divine power through the entire blade, adjusting his grip to strike cleanly in one blow. He raised the sword—but before he could swing, footsteps pounded down the dungeon stairs.

“High… High Priest!!”

The voice came from one of the senior priest’s disciples, sent to assist during the ritual. The High Priest turned, his face darkening with displeasure.

“I gave strict orders—no one was to enter during the ritual!”

“It’s an emergency! The Marquis of Leroy has barged in with his private soldiers!”

“What?!”

Most of the Church’s elite battle personnel were already in the dungeon for this purification ritual. Although the central temple in the capital had a sizable force, with the top warriors gone, they were vulnerable.

The Marquis of Leroy? But how? The royal family wouldn’t have told him.

The Tower Master knew better than anyone how dangerous the Demon King’s Fragment was. He had agreed that they would deny Susanna’s capture and keep the Church’s involvement a secret. If so, neither side should’ve leaked this to the Marquis.

“We’re holding them back as best we can, but… we’re trying to avoid bloodshed…”

The temple’s knights and guards followed the law of the Goddess Ista—the deity of the heavens, stars, and justice. They were forbidden from drawing blood unless fighting demons or monsters.

…How did he get this far? Marquis, why now?

The noise outside grew louder. They were pushing all the way into the inner sanctum.

The High Priest clicked his tongue and looked at Hans, who reluctantly lowered his sword. The sacred light imbued in the blade faded.

Watching nervously, Susanna saw one of the Holy Knights bend to pick up her veil from the floor. She screamed.

“Father! Father, I’m here!”

“Young Lady!”

Startled, the knight moved to silence her, but the High Priest raised a hand to stop him.

They weren’t criminals. As much as he hated the interruption, the only option now was to speak with the Marquis and try to persuade him.

“Let her speak.”

Moments later, the Marquis of Leroy burst into the dungeon with two senior knights and a contingent of soldiers. His face was red with fury.

The High Priest could only look at him with a heavy heart.

The Marquis would come to regret this day, again and again, for the rest of his life.

A violent surge of crimson-black energy erupted from Valter Bianchi’s body. Reacting instantly, Achilles Illien cast a protective barrier to shield the surrounding mages and knights. The only one who didn’t make it inside the shield was Giel—he’d been standing too close.

Giel…!

Achilles clenched his jaw, watching as the light subsided.

The other mages and knights, including those who’d accompanied Oscar, were safe. But Giel was bleeding, caught in Valter’s grip.

The explosion had shattered the magical bindings. Valter had taken the opportunity to grab Giel—clearly injured—and now held him like a hostage.

One hand gripped Giel by the collar, the other hovered threateningly near his temple, ready to crush his skull.

He shouldn’t be able to use mana…

A Swordmaster could punch through stone with bare hands, but with Achilles’s spell sealing his mana, Valter shouldn’t be stronger than a low-ranking knight.

But Achilles wasn’t watching Valter’s movements—he was focused on the power that had just surged from him.

It had mixed with Giel’s magic during the shockwave, and to most, it would’ve been unrecognizable.

But Achilles was the Tower Master.

That magic… was demonic.

“Valter Bianchi… did you make a pact with demons?”

Valter curled his lip into a smirk.

He had been involved with demons for nearly a decade. But this was the first time his connection had been exposed.

“A demon… Valter, is that true?”

“Even if it is, what would you do about it?”

Valter sneered as he tightened his grip on Giel’s neck. Blood was already trickling from Giel’s mouth, and he let out a stifled groan of pain.

“Making a pact with a demon is a foolish thing. You know that, don’t you?”

At Achilles’ words, Valter’s brow furrowed. He could tolerate many things—but being lectured by him was not one of them.

“Don’t treat me like one of those fools who trades their soul for cheap rewards. I never made that kind of contract.”

Valter couldn’t say it aloud here, but the truth was, his deal hadn’t been a proper contract. What he and Cernadis had formed was a provisional agreement.

“The demon I dealt with was the one who came crawling to me—offering everything first. I never gave him anything in return. It was just like…”

A cruel smirk formed at the corner of Valter’s mouth.

“…my relationship with Lize.”

“You bastard! Don’t you dare speak Lize’s name with that filthy mouth of yours!”

Oscar shouted in fury. As Valter mocked Charlize, Achilles’ expression hardened, his eyes turning cold.

“You’re a fool. Do you really believe a demon would offer everything willingly? And you trusted that?”

“I took everything from him. That’s the truth.”

Achilles understood now what had driven Valter to such a downfall. He knew the demon—Cernadis—by name.

“Valter Bianchi. That demon deceived you. He fed your greed, satisfying every filthy desire, until you finally fell. Look at yourself now.”

Valter’s face twisted at Achilles’ scornful glare. He wanted to rip that smug look right off his face.

“And if I hadn’t accepted the demon’s ‘help,’ do you think I’d even be here?”

“Shut your mouth!”

Cernadis had been imprisoned deep underground by Valter’s command, offering everything he had.

At first, it had been hidden treasure and information about underground veins. Then it was knowledge about demons and monsters. Eventually, it was his own flesh and blood. The bodies of high-ranking demons were necessary to craft alchemical tools and magical potions.

Even for a demon, it must have been agonizing—but Cernadis showed no pain. He faced Valter calmly, never once letting his expression falter.

Valter considered Cernadis a captured specimen—something useful, nothing more. He never cared for him, but he saw value in what the demon could offer.

“Is something troubling you, young duke?”

At some point, Valter had grown used to Cernadis’s sweet and familiar voice. Bored with his mundane life, he treated their meetings like a passing amusement.

His close aides had warned him—never to trust a demon, never to listen to his voice. Valter himself had set boundaries, only meeting Cernadis once every two months.

Cernadis always knew how to get what seemed out of reach—without Valter ever having to dirty his own hands.

Even the curse cast on Oscar had come from Cernadis.

‘No… No, that can’t be…’

Finding the right people for the Crows and expanding the Black Heart organization had been Valter’s achievement alone. No one could deny that.

But deep down, Valter knew the truth. Everything Cernadis had given him had been tied to his darkest desires—and in return, it had slowly twisted his fate.

Without Cernadis, the Crows might have remained just a common mercenary group. The Black Heart could have ended up as a simple information guild.

It was unfortunate, but this wasn’t the first time Cernadis had clung to a noble soul, luring it into corruption to claim it for himself.

“So, what now? Are you going to run away—after selling your soul to a demon?”

“Can’t you see your subordinate lying there? Even with my mana sealed, I can still kill him!”

Valter shouted furiously, veins bulging, as Achilles stepped forward. Achilles stared at him with icy calm.

Even when Valter had mana, he had never been a match for Achilles. Now, with a single step, Achilles released his mana into the space around him, freezing the air and time itself.

‘Fool.’

In this frozen moment, only Achilles and Giel could move. Giel sighed in relief as he slowly pried Valter’s fingers from his throat, one by one.

“Ugh!”

Once freed, Giel stumbled backward and hurried out of the prison. Achilles released the magic and looked toward him.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, Tower Master. Thank you…”

Giel replied, rubbing his bruised neck. When Valter came to his senses and realized Giel had escaped, rage overtook him.

“Achilles!! I’ll never forgive you!!”

Forcing his mana up through his body, Valter coughed violently—blood spraying from his lips. As he clutched his chest and lowered his head, dark demonic energy began to rise from the ground around his feet.

“Valter! What are you doing?!”

Oscar shouted, but Valter didn’t respond. He stared at the floor, his face filled with confusion, as if even he didn’t understand what was happening.

The first to react were Achilles and the mages from the Tower. They had fought demons before—and they recognized what was happening.

“He’s a demon contractor.”

That single declaration from Achilles was all it took for the mages to move.

Their goal: to kill Valter Bianchi.

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