CHGD 15🎉

Chapter 15

Since no one was watching anyway, he had been lounging comfortably in Deliana’s chair, killing time, when he suddenly heard a strange sound from within the room.

It was odd. He was certain he was alone in this room, yet he could hear voices—several people talking.

Like whispers in Ickabel’s ear, or words uttered in passing, low and eerie voices tickled his ears.

[The fifth one, they say. That one was never truly born, though. Does it imitate the shadows? The wind is dead.]

[Wendy is a lie. It was never true, not even once. Did the Yellow King make it?]

“Ugh……!”

The small voices gradually grew louder, becoming shouts that began to reverberate inside his head. Ickabel tried to cover his ears with both hands, but it was no use.

[What is it? It’s a counterfeit.]

A mocking voice pierced through his eardrums and dug deep into his mind.

Though the words themselves were disconnected and nonsensical, he couldn’t simply brush them aside. It felt as if they were weaving words he loathed into thorns and forcibly driving them into his brain.

Confusion, humiliation, and pain surged in like a tidal wave, conquering his mind.

“Who’s there! Where are you hiding!”

It wasn’t one of Hastur’s subordinates, that was certain. Among the beings he knew, none would resort to such underhanded methods.

Ickabel frantically scanned his surroundings. He could clearly sense a presence, yet he couldn’t pinpoint a specific location.

[False being.]

[It has no eyes, so why is it called Wendy?]

[Because it’s a fake. The real one is dead.]

“Stop……!”

The sharply honed words flew at him like daggers. The more he heard, the more his breath quickened, and his very soul began to stir.

Clutching his chest, Ickabel searched the bedroom meticulously, trying to find whatever was whispering into his ears.

[Fake, the born one, the flawed counterfeit, Wendy…….]

“Shut up, shut up!”

Under the bed, outside the window, on the ceiling, in the bathroom—nowhere could he find traces of another being. Growing increasingly desperate, Ickabel roared, releasing his killing intent.

“Where are you, you vermin……!”

Just as he was about to reduce the room to ruins in his fury, the door of the wardrobe beside the bed slowly creaked open.

From within, a crimson light resembling an eye flowed out.

‘There you are!’

He immediately reached for the wardrobe handle. His killing intent transformed into a sharp wind, aimed straight at the wardrobe. It was a wind filled with the resolve to kill the moment he saw it.

“……!”

But what lay inside the wardrobe was not something he could handle.

[What’s this? Already at your limit? It’s not even half of what Deliana endured. How frail.]

“Th-That’s….”

The branches that filled the wardrobe reached out toward Ickabel. The red eyes embedded in the wood glowed sinisterly, as if mocking him, and the dozens of split branches wrapped around him like tentacles like a swarm of tentacles.

Even though he knew he had to shake them off, his body refused to move as he willed.

And for good reason—the being before him was of a higher order than Ickabel.

“L-Lloigor…!”

A fragment of Hastur and □□□, the Apostle of Schemes, Lloigor.

As a being subordinate to Hastur, Ickabel could not escape his power.

‘I’m going to die……!’

The tentacles mercilessly burrowed into Ickabel’s skin. As if determined to drain his blood and soul, the tentacles, tipped with claws like insect legs, tore through his skin and muscles, ripping apart his blood vessels.

No matter how Ickabel tried to writhe free, the tentacles only dragged him further into the wardrobe.

Sensing that if this continued, he would be absorbed by Lloigor, Ickabel made the best choice even while dominated by terror.

“Arghhh!”

[Oh my.]

Fur sprouted from his arms and legs, ensnared by the tentacles. At the same time, thick muscles pushed the claws away, and a fierce gale shook off Lloigor’s coercive force.

Ickabel had begun to reveal his true form.

His head rose to the ceiling, his legs thicker and longer than the branches, and enormous arms dripping with cold air emerged.

The Lord of the Snowfield, the White Silence, the being once called Wendy, unleashed his power, and Lloigor’s tentacles were helplessly severed.

[Tch.]

‘I’m alive!’

Realizing that he could not kill Ickabel, Lloigor finally withdrew his tentacles.

Compared to the relentless assault, it was an anticlimactically swift retreat.

Ickabel stepped back, swinging his arms as if to shake off the remaining energy.

“Lord Lloigor, why on earth are you here…….”

[Don’t ask me. I didn’t want to participate in this farce either.]

“Farce?”

As Ickabel puzzled over Lloigor’s incomprehensible words—

“Oh my.”

A familiar voice came from the doorway.

Ickabel slowly turned his head.

Outside the bedroom door, he realized that Deliana was there, gazing at him.

‘Since when……?’

As if she had heard his internal question, Deliana curled the corners of her lips adorably.

“From the very beginning. I’ve been watching. Sir Ickabel, you’re not human, are you?”

At that moment, Hastur’s words flashed through his mind. The strict command not to reveal his identity to Deliana. It was as clear as day that failure to comply would result in death.

“How strange. My candidate for a guard knight turns out to be a monster. My, my…….”

Sticking only her head into the room from the dark corridor, devoid of windows, Deliana smiled eerily—a smile more monstrous than any monster’s—and spoke with a chilling tone.

“What should I tell His Excellency the Count? Ickabel.”

The ‘Sir’ was gone. It meant she no longer had any intention of speaking politely.

Ickabel blankly turned his gaze back to examine the inside of the wardrobe.

Only an empty, hollow wardrobe awaited him.

He had been deceived.

He realized that Deliana’s trap was tightening around his throat.

“Oh, it’s a misunderstanding.”

The first words that came out were an excuse.

He hurriedly reverted to his human form. But unlike Mirdy, who was skilled at humanization, his transformation was rather grotesque.

Bones and flesh shrank with strange sounds, and his throat rattled with phlegm as he tried to return to human vocal cords.

“This isn’t, it’s not what you think.”

Flustered by the fact that he’d been caught in an undeniable situation, he stammered repeatedly.

‘I mustn’t let Lord Hastur find out……!’

As much as he respected Hastur, he also knew well how strict he could be with his subordinates. For all the favor and power he bestowed upon them, he never compromised on punishment for disobedience.

Even for Ickabel, bound to him, there would be no exception.

‘I’ll die. Even if not, he’ll surely take away my origin.’

Having his origin taken and falling to the state of a mortal was a fate more terrifying than death.

As he trembled with surging fear and anxiety, Deliana approached softly.

“What’s wrong, Ickabel? What are you so afraid of?”

‘How dare a human……!’

Even in this state, the thought that Deliana was mocking him made his blood boil.

The sudden appearance of Lloigor, Deliana appearing right after he revealed his true form… anyone could see this was a staged situation.

And the only one who benefited from this situation was Deliana—it was clearly all her scheme.

‘Should I just kill her?’

But he knew that wasn’t a solution either. Killing her would only bring greater punishment upon himself.

Everyone among the beings of the Holy City knew that Hastur cherished her.

As Ickabel gritted his teeth and tried to hide his panic, Deliana smiled.

“Ickabel, I’m quite shocked right now, so… could you explain? What was that form just now?”

“…….”

“Which one is the real ‘you’? Or is that monstrous form the real one?”

Monster.

If she were an ordinary human, that word alone would warrant being torn to shreds on the spot—but Ickabel glared at her fiercely.

Deliana paid him no mind, circling around and examining his body.

“I haven’t heard anything from His Excellency the Count about this…. Are the other knights monsters too? Surely, His Excellency isn’t….”

“No.”

At this point, all he could do was deny it.

Suppressing his rage, Ickabel grabbed her as she flitted about him anxiously.

“Milady, this is all an illusion.”

“An… illusion, you say?”