I Transmigrated as an Extra in a Trashy Dark Romance Game - Chapter 54

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

It was absurd that he was now fixated, paying more attention to the daughter of a low-ranking noble he would have ignored and discarded in the past than to the Saintess herself.

While thinking of more brutal ways to bring her down, regretting not having planted a spy in the viscountcy sooner, a knight brought information that pricked his ears.

“Carlton, you’ve been looking much better lately.”

The moment he heard the knight’s information, the Crown Prince immediately summoned Carlton, whom he’d left alone for a while.

It was, in a way, consideration on his part, to allow Carlton to demonstrate his loyalty again.

Of course, the purpose was also to torment Lady Moulton once more.

“They say there’s a maid who was beaten and dismissed from Viscountcy Moulton… I want you to kindly escort that maid to the underground dungeon, discreetly. I’ll handle the rest.”

He read the hesitation in Carlton’s eyes, but the knight followed his order well.

The maid who was brought seemed already overflowing with rage toward the viscountcy.

Foolishly, as if thinking of the Crown Prince as her tool for revenge, she spilled all sorts of information. Nothing particularly interesting caught his ear, but for daring to treat him as a mere tool, she was quietly disposed of by his hand.

‘Hmm… On the surface, it just looks like abuse…’

That she disliked going outside the house from a young age, that she received what seemed like confinement as punishment from the unloving Viscount, and that even among the servants, they avoided getting close to her because she was said to bring misfortune—none of these were particularly useful weaknesses to exploit.

But when pieced together, the information gave the feeling that a crucial part was being obscured.

He was stuck without a clue until the knight assigned to surveil the Saintess made a strange report.

“It seems Viscount Moulton and the lady have met the High Priest before.”

The mere fact that a viscount had met the High Priest… This matter, which seemed connected to the secret of the viscountcy lingering in a corner of his mind, felt like it might be the clue to that obscured part.

His intuition began to sparkle, like a blow to the back of the head.

After that, the Crown Prince ordered Carlton to carry out tasks—starting with the abduction of a priest and somehow obtaining documents from within the Temple. From their mouths and the information, he finally managed to pry open the hidden part.

Succeeding in uncovering the viscountcy’s secret, he gained even greater information: the true identity of Lady Moulton and about the Black Saintess.

The sensation he felt upon learning it all gave him a greater catharsis than when he had ascended to the position of Crown Prince, sending a thrill through his entire body.

“It seems my interest in the lady was all the goddess’s fate.”

The Crown Prince wiped away the gentle expression he always wore. Now, with a face full of desire, laughter began to flow at the thought of making Lady Moulton his.

He laid plans to bring her down, ruin her, and take her for himself. The upcoming Hunt—that day, the Crown Prince decided she would be his final prey.

* * *

The more he revealed the truth he had learned, the more the lady’s expression hardened, as if sinking into despair.

The Crown Prince thought that if he had such power, he would be joyous to wield it for authority. He couldn’t understand her despair-filled face, but he rather liked it.

‘It’s a pleasing sight.’

To take in more of that expression, he grabbed Edith’s chin and looked closely.

Her unusual gray eyes, their guard seeming to fade, lost focus and sank deeper, appearing even more indistinct.

“That power, the ability to drag those who obstruct my path into ruin, is far more appealing to me than healing or bestowing blessings.”

Her existence, possessing a power so alluring to him, was a means to fulfill his ambition for the authority he held—like a cup filled with sweet poison.

That power, which drew misfortune and led the fates of those frequently exposed to its aura into ruin, was evident from her father, steeped in greed, and her mother, who died in childbirth.

If he could plant her near those who were thorns in his side, they too would be swept up in her aura of misfortune.

“So I must make you, my lady, who possesses that power, mine.”

He was already ecstatic, but the thought of finally witnessing her breaking down, something he had yearned for, made laughter seem to keep spilling from his lips.

Their lips met, and the Crown Prince continued to watch her eyes.

A desire to imprint himself within those foggy pupils was boiling up, but she, perhaps too shocked, hid those eyes away.

‘This, I don’t like.’

Tossing the unconscious Edith onto the bed in the office’s attached chamber, the Crown Prince ripped her dress without hesitation.

‘Finally, I can have her. The power of the Black Saintess…’