I Accidentally Created a Villainous Organization

Chapter 98: Respecting Preferences and the Prophet’s Suffering (2)

Chapter 98: Respecting Preferences and the Prophet’s Suffering (2)

“…You don’t have to worry about what happened earlier.”

I said this to Miss Rubia as calmly as I could.

Though I knew giving her some alone time would be best in situations like this, the circumstances left me no choice.

The repeated use of the Holy Stigma.

The divine energy drained from the final blow against Balzac.

A series of overlapping problems had severely lowered the efficiency of recovery. This meant I had no option but to maintain prolonged physical contact during the healing process.

And the result of that? Miss Rubia, lying on my lap, trembling and on the verge of tears.

Her face turned as red as a ripe persimmon, overcome with shame. She looked like she might bite her tongue and end her life at any moment if left alone.

Given how loudly her cries had echoed, combined with the fact that Siel’s shadow corridor was still open, every member of our group was well aware of what had happened to Miss Rubia.

I made sure to keep my tone calm and warm to avoid making things worse, gently patting her shoulder to show my support.

“That’s not it…! It’s not like that!” she whimpered in protest.

Her voice cracked, brimming with indignation. She even started invoking a “Mana Oath” to declare she was fine.

Coming from someone like Miss Rubia, who fully understood the weight of such an oath, her words made me pause. Was it really just a misunderstanding earlier?

Still, there was one thing that didn’t make sense.

“Then why in the world… did you buy the diaper?”

If she wasn’t unwell, why had she purchased that? My natural question left Miss Rubia sweating bullets, avoiding my gaze.

“T-that’s… because my father is very sick….”

She stammered out an explanation that it was for her father. Since Miss Rubia herself said so, I wanted to believe her. But…

‘Doesn’t that sound a bit strange?’

I couldn’t shake the doubt. The store clerk’s message clearly indicated the product was for an adult woman.

Why would she order something for her father that’s designed for adult women?

The more I thought about it, the more my face hardened. It was inevitable. If she wasn’t sick herself but still bought such items, there was only one conclusion. Ṝá𝐍Ô𝔟Еṧ

‘…She has unique preferences.’

Adult baby play.

Among all my companions, I had considered Miss Rubia the most normal. Apparently, I was wrong. It seemed I was the only one remotely sane here.

“I’m really worried. I should visit your father sometime soon,” I said, barely suppressing my sarcasm.

Miss Rubia’s father, a retired man living his best life in a remote vacation spot, was suddenly reduced to an ailing elder on the brink of death thanks to his daughter’s offhand remarks.

To save Miss Rubia from further embarrassment, I decided to end the conversation there.

“And I’m sorry for misunderstanding.”

Her face brightened slightly, as though she believed the matter was resolved. But guilt crept in not long after.

…Honestly, I couldn’t help but wonder.

What kind of man would take on the challenge of marrying this woman? She was someone who needed constant care, and whoever ended up with her would need to be incredibly patient.

My thoughts spiraled.

Thinking about it, Siel, Lien, and Lucy were all the same. Good-hearted but undeniably eccentric.

They might get married someday, but I couldn’t imagine anyone capable of handling them.

‘Whoever it is, they’re in for a rough time.’

Unless they’re some kind of superhuman, they’ll barely survive.

While I was immersed in these thoughts, still focused on healing Miss Rubia, sudden footsteps echoed around us.

I looked up to see a knight with jet-black hair.

“Did you really think I’d die so easily?”

A chilling voice.

A murderous aura.

Balzac stood before us, pointing his blade in our direction.

“You’re the ones who first abandoned honor. Don’t expect to die peacefully.”

His hateful eyes glared at us, his lips curling into a maniacal grin. Thousands of sword slashes surged toward us, and before we could react, the attack reached us.

Blood erupted from Miss Rubia, and just like that, her life was snuffed out in an instant.

The holy power and stigma I had used couldn’t withstand the assault either, and I fell.

Thus, we all died.

…Or so it seemed.

“How was that? Pretty convincing, right?”

Balzac—no, the spirit controlling Balzac’s body—laughed uproariously.

“It’s done, my lord. Rest assured, the original personality has been completely destroyed,” said Lucy, who appeared behind him.

Hearing that, I couldn’t help but smile. Accepting Lucy into the group had been the right decision.

Though her skills with curses and spirits seemed ominous at first, who cared? As long as she was on our side, it was a blessing.

“Impressive… This exceeds my expectations.”

Balzac’s death would naturally lead to suspicion falling on Miss Rubia, the last person he was seen with. At worst, we could end up with not one but two Swordmasters hunting us down.

This plan was the perfect countermeasure.

Balzac’s body, now a puppet of Lucy’s skills, was weaker than the original but identical in every other way.

Combined with his convincing act, this would work.

“Yeah… This will do.”

A smile crept across my face.

It was time to plant a spy within the heart of the Empire’s army.

*****

Amidst the chaos of the ruined mansion, a single, unwanted guest hid, evading everyone’s gaze.

A man with golden hair held his breath, staring at the scene before him. His face was etched with shock and disbelief.

‘I never thought I’d witness something like this….’

When the 3rd Princess ordered him to monitor Balzac’s actions, he had dismissed it as a waste of time, assuming the man would do nothing but engage in pointless antics.

After all, what reason would a royal knight, loyal to the Imperial Family, have to betray? He’d been convinced that his surveillance would yield nothing out of the ordinary.

As the 3rd-ranked officer in the Empire’s Secret Intelligence Division, he’d felt it beneath him to follow such a vague command: ‘Something feels off, so keep an eye on him for me!’

But what he had witnessed just now was enough to erase those thoughts entirely.

‘The Black Fangs leader’s true identity, the appearance of a new Hero, the death of a Swordmaster, and a spy plan involving a fake Balzac….’

Even someone like him, accustomed to uncovering shocking secrets as part of his job, couldn’t suppress his astonishment at what he had just witnessed.

The 3rd Princess’s instincts were sharper than anyone could have imagined.

Until now, he’d dismissed her as nothing more than a capricious little girl. But what he’d seen today was enough to upend that evaluation entirely.

‘This will shake the Empire to its core.’

The gambit she’d made based on nothing but intuition would utterly destroy the Black Fangs.

His hands trembled with excitement.

He quickly left the mansion, ensuring he was a safe distance away before contacting the princess.

By some divine stroke of luck, the 3rd Princess responded far faster than usual.

The golden-haired girl’s face appeared on the communication screen.

“I have an important report.”

He declared this in an urgent tone.@@novelbin@@

The events he’d witnessed, each one capable of altering the Empire’s future, raced through his mind.

Of all the things he could report, there was one that stood above the rest.

While the other details were undoubtedly significant, nothing compared to the revelation involving the Hero.

And so, the man began to speak.

The Black Fangs’ leader, Ian—he was the Hero of this era.

…Or at least, he tried to say it.

《You seem to be mistaken about something.》

A voice rang out—the voice of His Majesty the Emperor.

Instantly, his head spun in confusion.

He knew what this was.

The Imperial Intelligence Division’s safeguard—a restriction placed upon them.

It activated whenever one encountered a secret so forbidden that even they were not allowed to touch it.

But… why?

What in the world had triggered the restriction?

《There is no such Hero named Ian.》

The moment those words echoed in his mind, the man’s face froze in horror.

This wasn’t just any restriction. It was a safeguard directly imposed by His Majesty the Emperor himself, designed to erase all memory of the previous Hero from the Imperial Intelligence Division.

It was a restriction of unparalleled precision, complexity, and power, an absolute rewriting of memory more thorough than anything else in existence.

…The leader of the Black Fangs hadn’t failed to notice him.

The man had already been discovered.

Ian knew everything. He had intentionally used an alias, invoking the same name as the Hero of the past, deliberately tripping the restriction and forcing His Majesty’s power to erase the memories of anyone who came into contact with the truth.

《That person never existed in the first place.》

His mind grew hazy.

He couldn’t even recall what he had been thinking just moments ago.

《Anything related to that individual is trivial and unimportant. Simply forget about it.》

Ah… of course.

Why hadn’t he realized that sooner?

None of it mattered.

The emergence of a new Hero. Balzac’s death. The intricate espionage plan. All of it—utterly meaningless.

He just needed to forget.

[“…What’s wrong with you? Why’d you stop mid-sentence?”]

The man, who had been staring blankly, finally came back to his senses. On the screen before him was the impatient face of the 3rd Princess.

[“So, what’s this important report you had?”]

She asked, her expression annoyed, clearly exasperated by his apparent hesitation.

But it was he who felt more bewildered.

“Important report? What are you talking about, all of a sudden?”

For her to claim there was some important report after she was the one who contacted him  first—was this some kind of joke?

[“……You little—”]

Her voice rose, followed by a stream of harsh insults that grated on his ears. As always, the 3rd Princess’s temper was quick to flare.

‘She’s the one who screwed up, and now she’s taking it out on me because she’s embarrassed.’

Once again, the man reaffirmed his distrust of the 3rd Princess.

Though he offered a half-hearted apology, bowing and acting contrite as etiquette demanded, his decision had already been made.

He now knew whose side he truly needed to align with.

It would be wise to pass this information along to his colleagues in the Intelligence Division: that woman was nothing but a rotten rope, unreliable to the core.

‘As expected, the only one worth trusting is the brilliant 2nd Prince.’

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