MPBGS 13

Chapter : 13

Before Daisy could even speak, the friar grabbed her arm with a fierce grip and pulled her along.

Daisy tried to break free, but the friar’s strength was unexpectedly overwhelming. There were countless rumors about Father Berga, but she had never heard of him acting so coercively.

Even if Father Berga held enormous authority in the monastery, there were still eyes watching the world outside. Did he think it didn’t matter because Daisy had no backing?

They were already at Father Berga’s room. A friar standing guard outside the door gave Daisy a sly grin.

“He really brought her here.”

“What about the priest?”

“He’s still out of his mind. Keeps muttering to himself. Seems like he’s lost it.”

“Don’t speak irreverently.”

“You’re more irreverent than me, brat. Come on. You think he’ll snap out of it just by staring at him?”

“Well, maybe he will.”

From their conversation, Daisy realized that Father Berga hadn’t actually called for her.

The friar opened the door and pushed Daisy inside. She hastily tried turning the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge—it seemed to be locked from the outside.

“I’ll let you out once he’s stable,” she heard the friar’s voice from outside the door. Daisy let go of the handle, a wave of helplessness washing over her. Tears threatened to spill, but she bit her lips.

If Father Berga hadn’t called for her, she might still get lucky and leave safely.

Still, what exactly was Father Berga doing? Such a self-important person—why would the friars allow him to behave as he pleased in that state?

Daisy stepped inside. Father Berga’s room was considerably larger than the others for monks. From within came groans—or was it heavy breathing?

And the moment Daisy saw Father Berga, she instinctively stepped back.

This was completely unexpected.

Father Berga had buried his head on the floor, drawing. Crumpled sheets littered the ground, and spilled ink had blackened the floor.

The drawings themselves were barely visible—the ink hadn’t even been properly applied.

The shapes were unclear, but Daisy immediately recognized the pattern. How could she not? It was the same design that had been drawn on the skin of the young lady.

“I need to complete the hidden part. Is it this? This seems right…”

Father Berga seemed completely unaware of Daisy’s presence despite the commotion he was causing.

His hands moved rapidly. Daisy stood behind him, gazing quietly. Her breath quickened. It was as if she had returned to the time she had secretly watched the fourth-floor storage room of the Rohanson mansion. Something indescribable seemed ready to appear from the summoning circle on the floor.

If this continued, it would summon that eye again.

No. She couldn’t let it be completed. How had she even escaped before? She couldn’t face that eye again. She had to stop it… she had to.

Desperately, Daisy grabbed a statue of Rahel nearby. The stone carving of the god was heavy. She raised it high with both hands and slammed it down.

A dull vibration spread through her fingers.

The priest fell forward. Daisy dropped her hands, and the statue of the sun god Rahel shattered on the floor, split in two. Red liquid stained the white robes of the broken statue.

Blood from the priest’s head began soaking the drawing. Without Daisy even noticing, the ink traces filled the image like a flowing channel.

“What… what have I done…”

Daisy gasped, realizing the atrocity she had caused. She had only meant to stop him.

What if someone found out? Killing a priest was far graver than killing anyone else. He was someone favored by the gods. Discovery meant execution.

“I have to escape…”

But they were on the fourth floor; she couldn’t jump out. Two friars guarded the door. There was no way out unless someone helped her.

“Need some help?”

A voice whispered suddenly in her ear.

Trembling, Daisy glared, and right next to her, a man who shouldn’t exist had glowing eyes. His sharp teeth revealed a flicking red tongue. His dark, swampy hair blocked her vision.

“Shh. You must be quiet.”

The man covered her mouth. Daisy even stopped breathing.

“Hey, what was that noise? What’s happening?”

“Why ask? Just pretend you didn’t hear and leave it alone.”

“Oh…”

Apparently, they understood the earlier commotion themselves; the door didn’t open. When the man removed his hand, Daisy exhaled, filling her lungs, and her scattered mind returned. The man glanced at her and tilted his head.

“I came because I smelled him. But why are you alone?”

“Him…?”

“You don’t know? That one with the eyes. They call him Flauros.”

Hearing “eyes,” Daisy shivered. Was he talking about the same thing she saw at the Rohanson mansion?

“Ah, I see. I have business with him. You’ll have to take me there.”

Daisy shook her head. Go back there? No way.

“Can’t be helped. You’ve already made a wish, haven’t you? I helped you cheaply, so you owe me this much.”

A wish? Daisy frowned as the man snapped his fingers. Simultaneously, the fallen priest began rising.

It reminded her of the scene when Evangeline had been resurrected. That nightmare was repeating, even more intensely.

“Ugh. Did you really use that thing as a sacrifice? Only someone starving like me would even look at it.”

The man gagged at the priest’s body. His casual demeanor made the grotesque sight oddly comical.

“Now that it’s moving, it’s your turn to escape.”

Before Daisy could resist, he snapped his fingers.

When she came to her senses, Daisy was standing in the forest outside the monastery. Back in the ruined room of blood and ink, the priest sat blankly. Surely, inside it was empty.

“Oh, I forgot the after-service.”

The man returned, like someone who forgot something while going out, passed the priest, and opened the door. Before the two friars guarding outside could react, lines formed across their necks and snapped off.

Strangely, the headless bodies didn’t collapse; instead, the severed heads rolled on the floor and were placed back on their bodies.

“Perfect. Yes, very good.”

The man disappeared, seemingly unconcerned with the minor misalignment of the heads.

“…You’ll find what you’re looking for over there.”

Daisy pointed to the Rohanson mansion. The man outside the carriage window looked at her, nodded, and seemed to acknowledge that she didn’t need to accompany him all the way.

“Indeed. The smell is strong. Has he set up residence there?”

“…Probably.”

The man’s “eyes” seemed bound to the mansion, so he was likely correct.

Daisy wanted to get away immediately. She feared the eyes might watch her again. She wanted distance from even the seemingly kind man.

That was the monster she had summoned. Just knowing it lived made her feel trapped.

Her deal with the man ended here. He needed to see the eye; once done, he would leave.

Surely he wouldn’t stay here?

How many had he killed on the way here? He had sliced and killed people for sport, then grotesquely reattached their heads.

Those who should have died walked around normally, like Father Berga. Without the red line on the neck, no one would have noticed.

Did he also resurrect Evangeline? Probably not—he didn’t know the mansion.

“If you need help again, call me. Next time, I’ll charge full price.”

The man waved and stepped out of the carriage. Through the small window, Daisy saw him move toward a fully bloomed cherry tree. The tree hadn’t lost its flowers even after the lady had hanged herself there.

“Where shall we take you?”

The coachman asked.

Daisy hesitated, reflecting on the nightmare of today and before.

“To the temple.”

“Save me!”

She encountered a talking black wolf. Not a wild animal, but a speaking werewolf.

It had been injured? If it weren’t speaking, she might have thought it a hunted wild animal.

But it spoke.

She realized that even in older fantasy novels, talking wolves were just like this. This one was a werewolf.

The male lead might be Gabriel, so perhaps this is the sub-lead? She began suspecting wildly.

She could roughly guess the plot…