Emily was being pulled by Marianne, leading her away from the VIP seating and into the corridor.
People were scattering in every direction from the audience, desperately trying to escape, oblivious to their presence. The cries of anguish sounded distant, almost surreal.
With a frozen expression that seemed to suggest she had never seen anything like this before, Marianne led Emily into a recess in the corridor, hiding them from view.
“…Marianne…?”
“Run. Right now.”
Emily’s eyes widened at the faint whisper that barely pierced through the chaos.
“…Why now? You were trying to use me, weren’t you?”
“Indeed. That was my role, to follow Dylan’s orders and keep you under control. I knew all along that you were powerless.”
Her flat, emotionless voice was chilling and provocative, contradicting the very words she had just uttered about escaping. Anger and suspicion bubbled within Emily, but with no way to act in this situation, she hesitated, confused about what to do next.
“Do you understand what will happen if your other sin is revealed?”
“Other sin…? What do you mean?”
Marianne’s expression remained unchanged.
“There are only a handful of humans who would follow the ideals of Dylan Agreas Jiemeld. Most of the populace will be consumed by fear and rage. They will forever hate you, the false one, for having deceived the true one.”
“True one…?”
Half of what Marianne said resonated with Emily, mirroring the fear she had just imagined moments ago.
—What does she mean by true one…?
Before she could voice her question, a distant shout pierced the air.
“Hey! Look! It’s Lord Lionel…!”
Turning around, Emily saw the panicked crowd stop and face the same direction. Beyond the large windows of the corridor, the arena’s audience came into view, and through the chaos of the Undead Slime attacking, a group of armed individuals was advancing.
They bore shields painted entirely black, and in their hands, they wielded softly glowing swords. It wasn’t just one; multiple figures held swords that shimmered with light.
“Oh, they’ve arrived already… and in such numbers. Perhaps Dylan underestimated the true one.”
“…What is this true one you keep mentioning…?”
She asked, her gaze still fixed on the approaching figures. Deep down, she felt she already knew the answer. Her heart raced, and a chill crept up her spine.
—I know that’s not my power. If it were, then Elliott and the others would…
As Emily bit her lip in anguish, Marianne finally changed her expression. The pity in her gaze, however, only served to further irritate Emily.
“…The Guide Mage. That is the true identity of those who have long been called saints or holy maidens in legends, across many nations and churches.”
“If that true one is indeed what you say… then how could I have deceived them…?”
Her question trailed off as the ground suddenly shook violently.
The tremors intensified to the point where she could barely stand, unsettling sounds echoed around them, and distant screams filled the air. Then, right beside her, there was a sound like something collapsing. As she crouched down, clutching her head, she was suddenly pushed to the floor.
After a moment, the chaos subsided, and when she finally opened her eyes, she saw that the wall of the corridor had crumbled. Marianne, who had been nearby, was nowhere to be seen. In a panic, Emily scanned the dust-filled area and found Marianne, half-buried under the rubble.
“Marianne…!”
She rushed over instinctively, and Marianne opened her eyes slightly. Blood trickled from her forehead. The debris covering her was far too heavy for Emily to move.
As she watched a pool of blood spreading across the floor, Emily’s face twisted in horror.
“Leave me and run. You can either be consumed here or end your life now. Either way, it makes no difference to me.”
Marianne spoke in a faint voice. The casualness of her words ignited a fierce anger within Emily, and her confusion only deepened.
“Why!? Why say that now!?”
“…Seeing you makes me angry. It’s as if I’m looking at myself. No, it’s different. I was even jealous. Because I am not even a prop to color his stage.”
Emily struggled to comprehend the self-deprecating words, only feeling more lost.
“I thought it was enough to be close to him as a useful pawn, as a tool. Foolish girl. In the end, I was never even in his line of sight. Not until the very end…”
Emily understood that “that person” referred to Agreas.
“Misjudging my own worth, getting carried away by the illusion I was given, foolish and shallow. You are just like me. Yet, you have more value than I do. I could no longer bear the sight of someone like you being by his side. So, this is just a trivial whim born from petty sympathy, jealousy, and self-loathing. Now, run away…”
For a moment, Emily thought she should obey and flee immediately. But she couldn’t bring herself to stand. She was uninjured; the push she felt during the tremors was likely from Marianne shielding her. Her thoughts were racing, but she felt an overwhelming urge to stay.
She reached out toward the rubble covering Marianne. It was heavy and difficult to move, but there were still questions she needed to ask.
“You really are a foolish, naive child.”
Marianne muttered in disbelief.
“Hey… about what you said earlier, that I deceived them…”
She asked with a trembling voice, but fear stifled her words. Marianne seemed barely able to maintain her consciousness. In response to Emily’s vague inquiry, all she received was a faint, powerless smile.