I Was Adopted by the Villain Grand Duke Who Killed My Favorite Character - Chapter 99

Tristan closed his eyes, feeling the elasticity as all the magic power drained from his body.

His hands were bound and fixed by chains attached to the floor. Having been confined in such a space before, he was able to maintain relative composure.

‘It’s fortunate that it’s me.’

What if Liat had been captured, as that bastard Michael had told him?

The mere thought made his blood run cold as he clenched his fist. He never expected that maintaining contact with the Crown Prince would be helpful in this way.

‘My brother must know by now.’

He hadn’t told his brother that he would be detained as a hostage. After all, his brother was already doing everything he could.

He was gathering opinions from the vassals and looking for ways to rescue their father. He couldn’t add himself as another burden to his brother.

He believed that enduring this would eventually pass.

“Both joyful and painful things eventually pass. That’s why I want you to be free.”

On his first day working at the magic tower, the little one had said those words while pinning a paper flower to his chest. That flower, preserved with magic, still decorated the center of his room.

Compared to his past, when he had no one waiting for him, even being confined now wasn’t frightening.

‘I can endure this.’

As he drifted in and out of light sleep, he heard footsteps and felt someone’s gaze above him.

The culprit behind all this stood before the prison wearing a black hood.

Tristan twisted his lips, mocking the person before him.

“I don’t know what nerve the Saint has to come see me. How did you even get in here?”

“Everyone let me in without resistance when I said it was God’s will.”

Her tone revealed considerable self-loathing. In an empire where religious fervor ran high, few would be brave enough to refuse a request from the Saint.

Once Tristan learned how the Saint had come, he grew bored.

“If you’re not going to talk about my father or sister, then leave.”

“…Don’t you remember when we watched the vision sphere together before?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You may not understand, but I truly care about Liat.”

“Don’t casually call my sister by name!”

Clank!

As Tristan suddenly raised his upper body, the chains binding his wrists collided with the floor. You call yourself a friend and then betray her?

Because of someone like her, his little one had been depressed all this time. She even seemed to blame herself for their father’s capture.

All because this person had spoken some prophecy or whatever to the imperial palace!

The Saint, who seemed startled momentarily, quickly composed herself. Whatever she had told those outside, no one came to intervene despite the commotion.

After hesitating, the Saint removed her hood and summoned her divine power.

“Will you listen to me if I prove my sincerity?”

Whoosh!

Golden light scattered around the Saint as her eyes turned golden. Divine power, like a band of light, circled around her wrists and heart.

The meaning was simple.

Tristan could read the characters embedded in the divine power. He should have monitored Daebak more carefully when he entrusted it to her.

“You’ve sworn on your divine power that you won’t harm my sister.”

“Yes. I’ll probably die if I break it.”

“So my sister had reason to trust you. But how could you make such a prophecy…?”

“Oaths can be interpreted in different ways. I still believe my choice was for her sake.”

I couldn’t leave the Grand Duke, a devil, by her side.

The Saint’s face showed not a trace of doubt as she spoke. Tristan knew that people with such expressions were the real lunatics.

‘She was crazy all along.’

It was an incredible madness, no less than that of his magic-obsessed colleagues. She seemed so taken with his sister that he had acted uncharacteristically gentle toward her.

Acknowledging that he himself belonged among the lunatics, Tristan knew the danger of such people. That type always caused trouble.

“Now that I’ve shown you my sincerity, I think you can trust me.”

Let’s just humor her and send her away.

Having made up his mind, Tristan nodded. He was done with this and desperately wanted to see his sister’s face.

“Strangely, I feel like I shouldn’t stop the rebellion from happening. But that would mean releasing the Grand Duke again, wouldn’t it?”

“What nonsense is that?”

“Tristan, I want you to start the rebellion instead of the Grand Duke. If you promise that, I’ll release you.”

Rebellion? What is she asking me to do?

Tristan couldn’t understand what the Saint was saying. Reading the question in his expression, the Saint asked with clouded blue eyes.

“Don’t you know?”

“Are you secretly planning some rebellion without my knowledge?”

At Tristan’s unexpected question, the Saint’s expression grew serious.

Tristan watched the Saint’s dumbfounded face as she seemed lost in deep thought. Honestly, he had no intention of following whatever the Saint proposed.

But the Saint didn’t give up trying to persuade Tristan.

“I’ll tell you. The real prophecy that I didn’t explain to His Majesty.”

The Saint’s subsequent explanation surprised even him.

She detailed what she had seen in her dream on the day she received the prophecy. As Tristan listened, he wasn’t sure how much of it to believe.

‘What if it’s true?’

There were too many holes to fully believe it. Would his father, who never engaged in battles he couldn’t win, start a rebellion without cause?

Even if they succeeded in overthrowing the regime, they would still need the Emperor’s bloodline.

“Fine. Let’s say what you’re saying is true. Then my father will become Emperor himself?”

“No, the person who will become Emperor is…”

“Saint! His Majesty has summoned you!”

Just then, a knight standing outside called for the Saint loudly. The Saint, who seemed about to reveal more, stepped back.

“I’ll tell you the rest next time.”

After the Saint left, complete silence fell over the prison. Tristan couldn’t decide how to judge what he had heard. He had planned to stay quietly in prison.

Now he needed to return to his brother and the little one, even if it meant using somewhat extreme methods.

***

Michael helped me organize the documents. To show concrete evidence to the Saint, we needed to extract the records from past diaries.

He seemed to have realized something while looking at the materials I had gathered.

“I’ve never thought deeply about the relationship between the Saint and prophecies.”

“How did you feel when you met the Saint, Michael?”

I recalled the meeting between the Saint and Michael as depicted in the original story. It was written that Michael, who coveted the power of the Divine Beast he couldn’t possess, had greatly anticipated his first meeting with the Saint.

After all, in Michael’s view, the Saint was chosen by God.

[In Michael’s eyes, undisguisable fondness shone. The Saint, initially wary of the Crown Prince, opened her heart to his purity. The two came to regard each other as friends.]

Come to think of it, I never asked what kind of relationship they had. Despite my resentment toward the Saint, I still hoped things would work out between them.

Michael answered my carefully considered question lightly.

“Nothing special. She seemed like an intelligent woman, I guess.”

“Didn’t you talk much?”

“Only necessary conversations. Since the meeting wasn’t arranged at my request, there wasn’t much to say.”

Didn’t the original story say they talked until dawn?

Judging by Michael’s expression, which was beyond calm to the point of bleakness, he didn’t seem to be lying. Michael genuinely appeared uninterested in the Saint.

Could this be related to why the Saint cooperated with the Emperor instead of Michael?

‘I get that they’re not close.’

Even when the Saint was with me, she never talked about Michael. I couldn’t determine whether this deviation from the original story would help in the future or not.

I looked at the final document I was organizing.

[Until I became the Saint, I had never thought about God. The moment I received the prophecy, I couldn’t doubt God’s existence. My words and actions led to some purpose.]

The most helpful reference was the record of the Saint who preceded Hela.

Several diary entries hinted at the coercive power of prophecies. However, this alone wasn’t enough to prove that prophecies had an effect close to brainwashing.

“Unless a being close to God speaks directly.”

“Liat. If your goal is to prove the compulsory nature of prophecies, this approach probably won’t work.”

Even a small crack of doubt in the Saint’s judgment would be enough. Even if it was just doubt about her own determination to define the Grand Duke as evil and let him meet his death as in the original story.

In my opinion, the Saint didn’t know what she wanted. At the right moment, the thought of someone waiting in my mind rang out.

[Liat. You don’t seem to be at the Grand Duke’s residence. Where are you?]

The Spirit King Heishar, who houses the Divine Beast, the closest being to God.

There was no one better to persuade the Saint. I spoke to Michael with a bright expression.

“I didn’t have a way to prove it to the Saint, but I think I just found one.”

“How?”

“I’ll explain the details later. Can you arrange a time for me to meet with the Saint tomorrow?”

“Knowing the Saint, she’ll definitely come if you’re the one calling for her.”

Meeting the Saint at the palace could be in the same room where Tristan and Michael had met.

Having received his promise to arrange a meeting with the Saint by tomorrow, I decided to return to the mansion. I needed to ask Heishar for help.

“I’ll come back to that place tomorrow.”

Michael escorted me to the corridor. Holding the carefully organized documents to my chest, I activated the mask Tristan had given me.

Tristan’s mask was engraved with magic that could transport me to my room anytime.

Whoosh.

As the light faded, the familiar scene of my room appeared. Lucas was standing there with his arms crossed in the empty room without Tristan.

With dark circles under his eyes, he walked toward me as soon as I appeared in the room.

“Liat. Where have you been?”

His cold golden eyes, devoid of any smile, took me in. Anxiety and impatience alternated across his face, lined with fatigue. That face seemed unfamiliar, as if it wasn’t him.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“Luca… ugh.”

As I let out a groan from the strength of his grip on my shoulder, Lucas’s expression contorted. Under normal circumstances, he would have loosened his hold, but this time he didn’t let me go.

As if imprisoning me, he pulled me into his embrace and buried his face in the nape of my neck.