Chapter: 25
Just when I was seriously worrying about my future, the scenery around me changed.
This time, it was the corridor of a mansion.
Lucy was surrounded by maids, each busy with their own tasks.
“Isn’t Lady Lucy’s personality too harsh?”
“That’s right. I can’t believe she’s the daughter of a noble family.”
“It must be because she has the blood of the lowly.”
“Well, her mother was a person who rolled on the street, so how could her child be different?”
Their whispers sounded so vivid, it felt like they were discussing right next to me.
Wait, what? Lucy wasn’t born to nobles?
Then it’s common for Lucy to be treated as an illegitimate child and for the family to have another child to carry on the lineage.
From what I know about fantasy noble families, that seems to be the way they do it.
While I pondered this, the scenery around me began to shift again.
The new landscape was something I frequently encountered.
It was in front of Benedict’s office, his usual retreat.
The door opened on its own to reveal the inside, even though I hadn’t touched it at all.
The inside was as desolate as ever.
The piles of paperwork were still overflowing.
The study, filling one corner of the room, remained intact.
And there was Benedict, sitting right in the center, looking the same as always.
But an unfamiliar chill permeated the office, which typically radiated warmth.
“Lucy.”
Benedict’s voice, once filled with affection, sounded oddly light.
That was strange enough to make me lift my head, and in the process, I caught a glimpse of the hatred directed at me.
“I hate you.”
Out of nowhere, Benedict uttered words he would never say.
That daughter-fool would never say such a thing.
That moron would proclaim his love for Lucy even if he was standing on the edge of a knife.
I can’t say I know everything, but I was sure this nightmare wasn’t entirely real.
If it were, then the scandal and the whispers I just heard were likely parts of this horrifying dream.
I really hope that’s the case.
Surely there must have been similar incidents.
Thinking about Lucy’s actions and reputation, it makes sense for whispers to arise.
But still, wouldn’t they have handled it more gingerly than what I saw?
At the very least, they’d have made an effort not to let Lucy hear it.
That has to be the case. If all the landscapes were true, my future would be too bleak.
“You are a worthless child. All you can do is bully others.”
Benedict’s frigid voice pulled me back to reality.
“You’re useless at sports. Useless at studies. Useless at etiquette. Useless at magic. You can’t do anything. You are truly the disgrace of the Allen family.”
Oh, he knows how to cut down with facts.
If I had still been Lucy before I possessed this body, I would have probably been thrilled to hear such words.
Unfortunately, I’m Lucy, but also not really Lucy.
Whatever you say won’t hurt me.
As I stood there with a blank expression, Benedict rose from his seat and stood before me.
The shadow of his massive stature loomed over my face.
“Don’t you pity your mother, who sacrificed herself for a child like you?”
As he spoke, the papers surrounding the room swirled, obscuring my view.
Then, just as all those documents vanished like melting snow, I found myself in another place.
This time the scene revealed one of the bedrooms in the Allen mansion.
“Lucy.”
I was standing beside the bed when I heard a woman’s voice and lowered my head.
There, a woman was lying down, covered in a quilt with a veil.
She looked like she was in poor health, breathing heavily, and as she caught sight of my face, she spoke in a small voice that seemed like she was crawling towards me.
“Lucy. I regret giving birth to you.”
Is this woman Lucy’s mother?
At least she seems to be using proper speech.
I had been thinking Lucy’s bratty demeanor might be hereditary, but maybe that’s not the case.
Then how did Lucy become such a brat?
Did she just naturally end up that way?
I imagined a baby crying not with “Waa Waa” but with “Ugh, you’re so pathetic!”
It was terrifying.
If such a baby existed, wouldn’t you need to call an exorcist to perform a ritual?
“From the moment I held you in my arms, I have never been happy. If you hadn’t been born, my life could have been better.”
Lucy’s mother was choking on her words with coughs, but still managed to spew out resentful phrases in-between.
Since that blame and resentment weren’t directed at me, I was unfazed.
Yet, oddly enough, tears streamed down my face.
As I desperately wiped the continuously falling tears, I had one hypothesis.
This is nothing more than a guess, but I wondered if this nightmare was simply showing scenes that Lucy feared the most.
Lucy…
She was terrified of being denied by the mother who gave her life.
She was afraid of being hated by Benedict, who had shown her love.
She was actually afraid of being blamed by the people around her.
She was the one crying inside while being humiliated by other nobles.
What a dull story.
To think the arrogant, spoiled brat feared others criticizing her—that’s such a cliché twist, isn’t it?
Well then.
Wouldn’t this girl have turned out bad if she had grown up in a different environment?
Sure, there was a chance that might have happened.
The odds were slim, but it wouldn’t have been impossible for Lucy to have reformed into a good person.
But as of now, that’s a meaningless thought.
Since I’ve taken her body now.
“Lucy. I resent you. You were a nightmare in my life.”
I watched as her pale, thin hand grasped mine.
I observed the tears cascading down from her eyes.
Though unintentional, it was a fact that I had taken Lucy’s place.
So now, I would have to take on her role, to pass this trial.
Would Lucy’s mother genuinely hate her?
I doubt it.
If that were the case, she wouldn’t have appeared in Lucy’s nightmares.
Thinking about Benedict’s doting nature, I am certain she must have been at least as concerned, if not more.
There’s a saying that birds of a feather flock together.
Lucy’s mother probably worried about her daughter’s future up until her last breath.
I don’t really know what Lucy’s mother was truly like, but I want to believe that.
I have never had a mother, but that’s the kind of mother I imagine.
Alright. Now let’s imagine that Lucy’s mother was as much of a doting fool as Benedict, and let’s suppose she said something meaningful before passing on.
If she were to worry about her daughter being left behind after her death, how would Lucy respond?
Imagining that brought up a question.
Was Lucy a brat even back then?
That’s a rather important issue.
If Lucy had been a brat from birth, wouldn’t she have called her mom “silly” or “pathetic” even in that situation?
For some reason, I feel like she might’ve done just that, but let’s assume she behaved normally this time.
I can’t imagine her saying something like “you’re pathetic and weak” to her sickly mother.
As a young man raised in the Confucian state of South Korea, I absolutely cannot allow that scenario!
Even though I’ve never even had a conversation with my parents, I’ve thought about it quite a bit.
You know, it’s always the ones who don’t have parents who know best.
Just like how romance novels are often written by those who have never been in love—they’re intriguingly captivating, right?
“Thank you for bringing me into this world. I’ll always love you, Mother.”
Huh? Why isn’t the filter working?!
As soon as I finished that sentence, the scenery darkened, and I found myself back in the temple.
In front of me lay a mace shining with a brilliant light.
“Impressive. Even through the trial of patience, you managed to give the best answer without flinching.”
‘…I passed the trial, right?’
“…Old man. Just tell me whether I passed or not.”
“Yes. You have magnificently passed the trial I prepared. You have earned the right to wield my mace and, at the same time, you will inherit the mercy of Armadi, which was a blessing I once possessed. This is…”
‘So open the door back for me already.’
“Shut up and just open the door. I feel like I’m about to die here.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes and said assertively to the old man.
I was on the verge of collapsing, you know?
If I were to faint, I’d better do it outside where someone could pick me up.
After all, I already knew everything about the mace and skills you were about to give me.
I might even know more than you do.
So please spare me the nonsense and just open the door.
The old man, sensing my irritation, let out a half-hearted laugh.
“Fine. I understand, you overconfident little girl. Go ahead and pick up the mace.”
The moment I obeyed and picked it up, the mace resized to fit my body.
Indeed, it was a last-resort item, with such a function, huh?
“There might come a day when we meet again.”
Huh? Who? You and me?
What are you talking about?
“Miss?”
Snapping back to reality, I found myself standing in front of the statue.
In front of the old, shabby statue of Ruel.
“Miss.”
I turned my head at the sound of Karl’s voice.
He was looking at me with a puzzled expression.
“Weren’t you supposed to be busy with that statue?”
‘Karl.’
“Hey, Sloppy! Didn’t I just disappear into this thing?!”
“Excuse me? What do you mean, gone? What are you talking about?”
He really had no clue, did he?
Why?
Did I just have some kind of vision?
And my body feels perfectly fine now.
Just moments ago, it seemed like I was aching all over.
I was so dizzy that I thought I’d collapse any second.
But what’s with my body now?
I pinched my cheek with all my might, wondering if this was a dream.
“Ow!”
That hurt like hell.
This is definitely not a dream.
So then what exactly is happening here?
Just when I was seriously beginning to think I might be going crazy, I noticed the mace in my hands felt different.
It was definitely distinct.
How could I possibly mistake the weight of the mace I had been clinging to for the past two weeks?
Looking down, I realized the shape of the mace in my hands had changed.
It had a white handle and a shimmering mithril body.
Its head was heavy and sharp, looking like it could crush everything in its path.
And above the head was the emblem of the Church of the Creator.
This is Ruel’s mace.
Carefully touching the head of the mace, I felt the cold metallic texture.
“Huh? Young lady, what about that mace?”
‘Karl, it seems I already went through the trial.’
“Sloppy, I think I’ve already gone through the trial.”
*
After that, I met Possell, who was crashing up the dungeon walls while coming up from the lowest levels.
Even though Evans’ dungeon is considered to be at a medium level, the fact that he can burst through in a straight line is impressive.
Normally, such a move would be blocked by the game system, but now it became possible in reality.
As soon as Possell saw me, his dirt-covered face loomed as he asked if I was alright.
That rugged face was rather intimidating, but I tried hard to give him a smile and nodded.
“I’m sorry! Young lady! I should have been more careful!”
‘It’s okay.’
“Foolish Possell, don’t overdo it. You need to calm down a bit.”
“No! This is all my fault! I almost—!”
Instead of scolding me for stepping on the traps, Possell bowed his head repeatedly, apologizing.
If something had happened to me, he might have even considered self-harm.
I needed to make sure he never found out that I intentionally triggered the traps.
Because if he did, I would definitely get hit for real.
Possell is undoubtedly stronger than the Minotaur I previously faced.
After getting bashed by the Minotaur and ending up like that, I can only imagine what would happen if I got struck by Possell!
‘It’s okay! I’m not worried!’
“Foolish Possell. I’ll let this one time slide. Just be more careful next time.”
“Thank you very much, Young Lady! You show incredible generosity!”
I’m still not quite sure where my generosity lies, but if we can just get past this, that’s good enough for me!
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