Chapter 16: Who Am I in Your Eyes?
Meanwhile, in a wilderness between the inner city and the border—
Althea, with the injured Phyllis and Tyr, hid in a concealed cave for bandaging and rest.
“Your Highness, forget about us. Escape while that woman hasn’t caught up. Find Miss Tina—you might still be saved,” Tyr gasped, clutching a bleeding wound, struggling to speak.
“I won’t abandon you.”
Althea’s gaze stayed fixed on the cave entrance, ever vigilant.
The memory of the purple-haired woman’s ambush was still vivid. In an instant, her summoned beast had nearly reduced the house to rubble.
While fleeing, Tyr and Phyllis had been gravely injured dodging attacks.
Now, only Althea had the strength to fight back.
“Don’t worry, she won’t find us that quickly. This is my old sanctuary, after all.”
But Althea knew these were just comforting words.
The scent of blood was strong—being found was only a matter of time.
She was waiting, determined to hold out until that person arrived.
Swish—
Rain began falling outside.
But alongside the sound of raindrops, slow, deliberate footsteps approached.
“Hide-and-seek’s over~.”
The purple-haired woman in a black robe stood drenched in the rain.
“Your Highness, let me guess—those two are hiding inside, right?”
“Whether they are or not is none of your business. As long as I’m here, no one gets hurt.”
“Ohhh, such a heroic princess! I almost feel bad about attacking you~,” Heather said, her face twisting into a manic grin.
“How about this? Hand them over, and for the king’s sake, I’ll let you live a somewhat human life.”
“Rune again… Who are you?”
“Oh? You don’t know me? That stings.” Heather tightened her grip on her whip, lashing it toward Althea, only for it to be deflected midair by wind magic.
The residual force struck the cave wall, causing a rumble.
“Oops, missed. Looks like Your Highness is no pushover. Fine, I’ll let you know who you’re dying to.”
Heather retracted her whip, her expression turning mournful. “I’m the fifth apostle of the Mistmoon Cult, one of the archbishops overseeing Kellivir’s operations.
Surprised? There are three of us this time. This kingdom is ours.”
Althea gave a light laugh, mimicking Heather’s feigned confusion. “But one of your friends is already dead. Once I deal with you and the last one, you’re done.”
“You’re right. Uri died miserably—ran into that witch.”
From Heather’s lips, Althea heard the dreaded term “witch” after so long.
Heather, intrigued by Althea’s surprise, pressed on. “Oh, you don’t know who’s by your side, do you?”
“Trying to sow discord? I’m not falling for it.” Though Althea brushed it off, a seed of worry took root in her heart.
“I love that look—the one where you’re lying to yourself, holding it together.” Heather’s pupils glowed crimson. “Take a look. This is what I saw in Uri’s corpse—the scene from that day…”
The surroundings dissolved, transforming into a hellscape of blood and fire.
Yet, standing in it, Althea felt no heat.
“Don’t worry, it’s an illusion. I’m just showing you what happened,” Heather explained, her eyes fixed on the center of the scene.
A girl with blood streaming from her eye summoned a rain. Her face bore an icy, machine-like expression Althea had never seen.
“See? This is her true face. All that warmth is just a mask to deceive you.”
“Shut up,” Althea said coldly.
“Fine, keep watching. See if her strength matches the image you have of her.”
In the blood-soaked pool beside the girl, a hand emerged, gripping the earth, pulling up a full figure.
A swordswoman, drenched in blood—or rather, made of it.
In Uri’s terrified gaze, the swordswoman, wielding a flowing blade of blood, leaped from the ground and slashed at his neck.
A seemingly light strike cut through his prized shield like a hot knife through butter.
Only then did Uri realize what kind of monster could cleave the hardest shield with the softest blade.
“So… you’re the witch!”
His body shattered under the swordswoman’s blindingly fast strikes. The blood on her blade suppressed his regeneration, poisoning his mind like venom.
He had more to say, but could only writhe as fragments.
Piece by piece, he was ground to dust. When only one fragment remained, he gave up, dying in despair and agony.
The swordswoman confirmed his death, returned to the girl’s side, and melted back into the blood pool, as if nothing had happened.
The girl lay on the ground until Althea and the others arrived.
The following scenes matched Althea’s memories perfectly.
It was all real.
“Any thoughts?”
The illusion faded, returning them to the cave. The rain grew heavier, now joined by thunder.
“In your mind, that girl’s just a magicless noble, right?” Heather’s crimson pupils gleamed.
“You’re trying to manipulate me into making a mistake.” Althea closed her eyes, avoiding her gaze.
“Tch, as expected of a princess—smart enough to make me jealous. But everything I showed you is true. Are you still lying to yourself?”
Heather’s laughter grew wilder. “Need me to spell it out? Tina is the witch—the one the entire continent fears. Do you really think she’s devoted to you, helping you reclaim your throne?
Don’t be delusional! Witches only toy with hearts. The deeper you fall, the happier she is, until she leaves you in regret, a mere morsel in her endless life!”
“Enough!”
Althea summoned elemental sprites, ready to fight the babbling archbishop to the death.
No matter the truth, she’d never side with the Mistmoon Cult.
“I only trust what I feel in my heart.”
Perhaps it was Althea’s confidence, or her own failure to sow discord, but Heather felt a surge of anger for the first time.
“Then die!”
Dozens of whips lashed out, their overwhelming force threatening to crater the entire hill.
Boom—Boom—
Althea’s prepared attacks turned into desperate defenses, shielding herself and the injured duo behind her.
As a whip from the left surged with devastating power, it was stopped midair, as if hitting an invisible wall.
“Phew, just in time.” The girl turned with a smile, her reassuring presence making Althea’s heart skip a beat.
Even if you’re really a witch, I don’t care…