novelraw Chapter 119: The Unforgivable Sin of Pope Selina
Chapter 119: The Unforgivable Sin of Pope Selina
Chapter 119: The Unforgivable Sin of Pope Selina
👹
"Oh... Well, he certainly did write quite a lot."
With a flick of his wrist, Lin Wei cast a freezing spell. The corpse before him turned to ice, saving him the trouble of dealing with the mess for now.
He picked up the handwritten letter, studying it with a glimmer of reluctant admiration in his eyes.
Truth be told, Fred may have been an assassin, but he had an unwavering loyalty to the Holy See. In just a few concise lines, he catalogued a staggering number of Duke Ous’s crimes, even listing out the assassinations he had carried out in the Duke’s name—leaving nothing unremembered or unsaid.
It was a shame there was no time to press for more. Had he fallen into the hands of the Holy See, who knew what else he might have revealed under their methods?
But when it comes to evidence and intelligence, quantity doesn’t trump sufficiency. If your goal isn’t to annihilate an entire noble lineage, there’s no point in loading up the dossier with every sin. If I were to fabricate something truly outrageous—like ‘secret, unspeakable liaisons with that male demon sculpture’—the moment the words were uttered, they’d be marked as heresy, and the Inquisition would descend.
No, all this is just laying groundwork. It’s insurance, in case any of it proves useful in the future.
“Had he been imprisoned by the Holy See... With that useless Pope’s temperament, Fred might have even received a pardon—or, at worst, life in confinement.”Lin Wei clicked his tongue with a note of scorn. “Tsk. In the end, it’s easier to clean things up personally.”
His gaze dropped to the most vital piece of intelligence in Fred’s letter: the location of the hidden gold.
Drumming his fingers against the table, he soon focused on a single familiar name—the City-State of Brook.
He knew the place well enough. After all, the crusaders who once confronted him in Aurens Town ended up buried in Brook.
Even now, Lin Wei was a little surprised that they had come so close to guessing his true identity at such a critical moment.
Fortunately, he’d acted fast, eliminating any future threats before they could take root.
“So, several months have passed since then.”
“I’ll have to find time to pay a visit myself.”
“But for now, best to settle what’s at hand.”
The house was steeped in carnage; blood stained every inch. Staying here any longer would be impossible.
Lin Wei stopped to think for a moment. Casually, he tossed a gold coin onto the floor and scribbled a note—reminding Afuduo that it was best to find an inn for the night.
With a gentle snap of his fingers, he summoned silent magic, and in the blink of an eye, every corpse in the room was swept together and gathered into his control.
“Better to send them home for a proper burial,” he muttered, clicking his tongue in mild annoyance.
◇
Duke Ous’s Manor.
The once ruined estate had, through hurried efforts, regained its former grandeur. From the crest of a hill outside, one could admire the elegant courtyards and impressive architecture set within.
Stoic guards, faces grim, marched in disciplined columns along the private boulevards of the noble district.
Any reckless use of magic would be noticed at once—the manor was tightly woven with a powerful, watchful presence.
Within the administrative wing at that very moment…
Duke Ous’s most trusted staff clustered near the window, their eyes fixed on the uneasy stir outside.
An invisible tension buzzed in the air, and low, anxious whispers passed from mouth to mouth.
“Lord Fred still hasn’t returned… Should we wake the Duke, tell him?”
“Let’s wait a bit longer. Remember, the Holy See set a careful snare out there. If the man targeted is slippery, it’s natural things might take longer. Lord Fred is an upper-tier Transcendent, wielder of ancient legacy—even if the mission went awry, he would have come back by now.”
“In that case, let’s hold off and see…”
Very few knew about the secret order to send Lord Fred after the Alchemist.
But as Duke Ous’s personal retainers, these men were in the loop—always poised to clean up in the aftermath, should things go sideways.
The mission was taking longer than expected, but no one truly felt much anxiety.
After all, they’d sent a peak Transcendent—someone with unmatched power. How strong could a mere provincial Alchemist possibly be? Hitting level 70 would be nearly unthinkable.
Most likely, the Holy See’s ambush forced Lord Fred to move more cautiously, to bide his time and strike only when certain.
One opening; that’s all a killer like Fred would need.
So, the silent manor slipped back into its usual pre-dawn lull, shadows settling like nothing at all was amiss.
The staff inside slouched into their dreary routine, bored and listless, waiting only for word that it was time to clean up the scene.
Now and then a breeze drifted by. Outside, the only sound was the slow crunch of the guards’ boots in the street.
It was as though the world itself had paused—still and undisturbed.
Until, suddenly—no one knew precisely when—
A shadow flickered at the window.
“Huh? That’s Lord Fred!”
None had expected him to return tonight, and certainly not like this.
The staffer near the window, not quite awake and nearly dozing, was startled as if jolted from a nightmare. For a second, he feared he’d slept through his shift, mistaking the returning form for a ghost.
“Mission accomplished, sir?”
“What’s the situation? The Duke is still resting. Please wait a moment before reporting.”
“Hey! Everyone on your feet—get moving!”
He roused the other groggy staff, waving them to action.
Normally, after any mission, someone would be sent to the site to wrap up loose ends or erase traces.
A routine job, perfect for people like them—not too strong, but competent enough and, more importantly, unlikely to attract notice.
“Wait… Lord Fred…?”
But just as he rose to organize the team—
He caught sight of the man outside, and a chill ran straight through him.
There was something terribly wrong with those eyes—rigid, glassy, completely devoid of human warmth.
His mask concealed every trace of emotion. He hovered out there, gaze fixed on those within—motionless as a painting.
It wasn’t cold indifference. It was as though time itself had been stopped—the figure between one heartbeat and the next.
Those eyes didn't even blink. That blank, merciless stare set every hair on end.
“Are you… alright, sir?”
A creeping dread wormed through the room.
No one even had time to lift the window for a closer look.
With a sickening *thud*, Fred—who seemed to be floating outside—plummeted from the window.
A heartbeat later, a rain of shattered flesh and fresh blood splattered into the courtyard. It was as if the sky itself had torn open, disgorging this gruesome storm upon the manor.
It was enough to make anyone's scalp go numb—broken limbs and fragments of body thudded to the ground one after another, splashing against flagstones and grass. The thick stench of blood filled the air, choking out all else. And somewhere amid that metallic tang, a lingering resonance of sorcery clung, subtle but unmistakable.
“W-what in the world… is happening?!”
The guards on duty gaped, faces drained of color, too stunned to move.
Never had they imagined such horror would ever visit Duke Ous’s own manor.
And the nightmare didn't end there. When the bloody rain abated and the carnage settled, the courtyard’s macabre display became gruesomely clear: carved into the gore-stained ground were two characters, stark as a curse—“Hello.” Before it, five familiar, severed heads arranged in a mocking, ceremonial greeting.
It was like the old tales from war—victors mounting enemy heads for all to see. Only now, it was they, the onlookers, who were being warned.
“This… This is Shadowstream Squad—”
Fred… was dead?!
There could be no mistaking those five faces.
He knew them. He would never, in his life, mistake those faces.
“Hurry—wake the Duke!”
As the truth dawned, the Duke’s servants broke into wild-eyed panic, nearly tearing at themselves in desperation, and bolted deeper into the manor, their cries a jumble of fear and disbelief.
This wasn’t a simple failed mission. The enemy had found the mastermind who had issued the order.
This was disaster on a scale none of them could hope to survive.
Five minutes later—
Duke Ous stood at the threshold, his face a mask of icy rage, gazing out at the atrocity.
Blood and bits of flesh littered the stones, sticking in pools so dark and viscous no cleaning could erase them.
At the courtyard’s center sat the five severed heads, each frozen in a gruesome smile—arranged deliberately, a mockery aimed at the Empire’s mighty Duke.
“The Holy See… dares mock me?!”
Fury blazed in the depths of his eyes, growing hotter by the second.
His fists trembled so hard the skin looked ready to split, his entire body shaking as he forced himself to contain it.
This—this was the deepest humiliation he'd ever suffered.
Since the day he’d won his title, no one had dared taunt him so brazenly.
A mission gone awry he could accept—these things happened. But this? Killing his men and parading their corpses through his home, turning it into a spectacle?
It was humiliation, pure and simple.
A challenge—one delivered straight to his face.
This was no threat. It was a declaration of war to the death!
“It was Pope Selina behind all of this…”
“And that man… Lin Wei.”
With a violent sweep of his arm, a shock of power burst forth. The ground before him ruptured as if shattered by thunder.
In the Duke’s eyes, flames raged, threatening to consume the world.
“Unforgivable… utterly unforgivable!”
“I will kill him with my own hands!”