CHAPTER 27: HUMILIATION AND CONFESSION (3)

Deklan knew about this from Adrian.

He found it odd for the Pale Night Lady to be birthing—that many Pale Draggles, and he has his own suspicion about the matter. Initially, he thought it was an innate skill or something, but for an entity to produce that many weaker entities without repercussion sounds broken.

Even so, he kept it to himself.

And as he was forcing them to heed his plan, Adrian confessed out of sheer fear about this.

Both he and his mother were planning to tame the Pale Night Lady by feeding her.

It should be impossible to tame a Ghost, and it was well-established that it was impossible.

Like all Ghosts, the Pale Night Lady came from the Rift of Dusk, not a Spirit—so no matter how much they fed her, she would never be coaxed to assimilate with Adrian. From the start, one wouldn’t even become an Exorcist by assimilating with a Spirit.

A Spirit could only make an Exorcist stronger, not create an Exorcist.

To her, this was nothing more than a feast freely offered, not a step toward making a deal.

However, envy made them do the unthinkable.

Clearly, they couldn’t take it well that someone like Marsha had the talent to become an Exorcist.

And because of that, these two were actively trying to bring her down.

Attempting to backstab Deklan was already a fatal move that would not be forgiven, and Deklan would probably deal with them one way or another. He went to this length exactly because he knew how rotten these two are.

It would be unfair for Marsha to be oblivious to the real nature of the people she called family.

Marsha looked at Granny Linsa like she was looking at someone she didn’t know.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing—but seeing how Granny Linsa looked right now, there was no denying that this was true. Because of envy, she fed innocent people to the Pale Night Lady, and that is simply unforgivable.

"Tara, Ian, Robert, Olaf, and Raka were thought to be dead for the betterment of the people," Marsha uttered; she remembered each one of them, who was sent for the sake of finding a path to reach Ingver Town. "Their families cried but thought they died an honorable death, but instead, you sent them to be mauled by a Ghost?"

"I... I don’t know what I was thinking..." Granny Linsa uttered.

"No," Marsha cut sharply. "You knew exactly what you were thinking. I... I can’t believe you."

She raised her hand, intending to hit Granny Linsa.

For a moment, she gritted her teeth and her hand trembled overhead.

But eventually, she lowered her hand weakly and turned to look at Deklan to the side.

"Young master..." She called, tears streaming down her face. "I really want to hit her, but I can’t bring myself to hit her. What should I do?"

Deklan shook his head and smiled a little.

Of course, the sweet and innocent Marsha wouldn’t be able to do such a barbaric thing,

How could she? I’m sure she’s made by angel’s feathers—she wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly even if she wanted to, much less hurt a person. She’s too kind to do something like that, and that old hag doesn’t deserve to be hit by someone like her.

Or at least, that’s what Deklan thought was going to happen.

But that’s not reality.

Pah!

Deklan watched with a blank face as Marsha slapped Granny Linsa hard.

She was so fierce with the slap that the sound it produced echoed across the entire room.

It was so crisp that Deklan felt a shiver running down his spine.

Again and again, Marsha slapped her—for doing something as heinous as sacrificing the people of the hamlet who know one another intimately. Since the hamlet wasn’t that big, everyone knew one another, and that made this all the more painful.

Moreover, it didn’t help that Granny Linsa wasn’t defending herself.

[Good work, host. Look at the influence you brought to her. As I expected, you’re such a bad influence.]

Fuck, how am I the one on the wrong side? It wasn’t me. It was this damn mother and son duo! How is this my influence?

[You made Adrian your punching bag in front of her. You should’ve told her to leave.]

[Bad influence! Deadbeat! Bully! Paul must be disappointed in you!]

O-Oyy! Don’t bring Paul into this! And I’m not in the wrong, no matter what you say.

Even though Deklan said that, he couldn’t help but feel bad.

Marsha must’ve gotten used to seeing violence because of him.

But then again, she was surrounded by violence, so it’s not entirely his fault.

That being said, it’s coming back to me again. I need to be careful, or else this is going to be a habit.

While punching Adrian earlier, Deklan realized that he was smiling even as blood splattered onto his face, and that’s not healthy. If he kept this up—the violent impulses he had been suppressing would be let loose again.

And without horror movies to watch, he was afraid that there was nothing to suppress the impulses again.

No, no, no... I still have the Shop. I’m sure there’s TV in there somewhere.

Even so, I need to take a few days to meditate and get as far away from violence as possible. Yes.

Deklan watched Marsha vent out her anger.

She was representing the people who were wronged by Granny Linsa and Adrian.

But it was more than enough now.

I can tell that her hits were hesitant. She pulled back at the last second, but I should step in.

Marsha wasn’t hitting Granny Linsa with all her strength, or with the intention to hurt her, but Deklan knew that letting this go on would only be harmful for her. It would only mess with her mind more, and he didn’t want her to be dysfunctional.

Decisively, Deklan caught her hand as she was about to hit Granny Linsa again.

"Young master, let go!" Marsha tried to pull her hand.

One could see tears streaming down her face, drowning her beauty in water.

"That’s enough."

"Young master, what she did could not be forgiven. Let me go!"

No matter how desperately Marsha struggled, she couldn’t break her hand free from Deklan’s iron grip.

His grip remained firm, yet not cruel.

Her resistance faltered with each heartbeat until all that was left was trembling exhaustion—she buried her face against Deklan’s chest, her tears soaking through his clothes as muffled sobs wracked her frame to process this big revelation.

"Shh... It’s alright," Deklan murmured, his voice low and steady like a gentleman. "Both of them are going to pay for what they have done, but it doesn’t have to be you—Marsha. It doesn’t have to be you who punished them."

Deklan tightened his embrace, resting his chin atop her head, "Let me be the one to do the hard things."

For a good moment, Deklan allowed her to let it out.

She cried as hard as she could to vent out the anguish she was feeling right now.

None of the others dared to utter a single word.

Granny Linsa was holding her burning cheek from the slaps she endured.

Adrian was catching his breath after the beatdown.

As for Hendrick, he was scooting over to the corner, hoping that everyone forgot he was there.

Moments later.

"Go back home and rest. I’ll deal with the things here," Deklan stood before his lodging.

He rubbed Marsha’s head and nudged his chin away, gesturing for her to go.

Marsha wiped the tears on her face and turned around to leave—but a few steps in, she halted and turned to look at Deklan again. "Thank you, young master..." She whispered as she forced a smile. "It’s hard and saddening to see, but I can tell you’re trying to help me and also the people."

"Don’t mention it. Go on," Deklan waved his hand and went back inside.

Inside, Granny Linsa, Adrian, and Hendrick were tied down.

Deklan didn’t say anything to them, nor did he even look at them.

He only stood by the doorway in heavy silence and folded arms; his expression unreadable as seconds stretched. Then, after glancing through the window and confirming that Marsha was gone, his demeanor instantly shifted.

A smile stretched his lips as, without warning, he seized the mother and son by their ropes, binding them.

Nobody was around—perfect.

"Young master, where are you taking us?!" Granny Linsa asked in a panic. "Spare us, please!"

"Relax, I’m not going to kill you. But I can’t let you go easily either," Deklan smirked.

He brought them to the entrance of the hamlet and freed them from the ropes.

Once they were freed, Deklan drove his foot into their backs, shoving them forward with a force that sent them stumbling to the ground. Granny Linsa hugged Adrian’s weak body as she looked back at the supposed trash young master.

"Because of your damn son—ambushing me, I was too tired to bring my spear back. Go get it for me," Deklan demanded nonchalantly while looking at his nails that were now full of dirt. "It should be across the river. Bring it back for me, or the two of you will not be allowed around here."

"Across the river...? But there are many Ghosts there!" Granny Linsa argued.

She was weak and old, while Adrian was beaten up.

Meeting even one Ghost would be instant death for them.

"Does it look like I care?" Deklan raised a brow. "Besides, I’ve killed most of them. It should be safe."

Moments later.

Pant...

Pant...

Pant...

’How did it come to this...?’

Granny Linsa darted her eyes left and right as she traversed the almost pitch-black woods.

Barely any moonlight could seep through the cracks above.

She was also supporting Adrian to move, which added more weight to her problem, as Deklan wasn’t going to let him stay behind. Being the leader for so long, it has been a while since she traversed through the woods like this.

Deklan did say that he killed most of the Ghosts, but it didn’t do much to Grann Linsa’s psyche.

Every dark corner felt like there was something looking at her.

And every rustle or noise made her stop to look.

It was stressful, especially when everything rested on her shoulders right now.

Deklan gave her half an hour to retrieve his spear—a second later than that would mean death.

Reaching the bridge took her ten minutes, quite fast for the weight she was carrying, but even when she arrived there, she couldn’t find the spear. All she could see were the corpses of Pale Draggles littering the ground.

She crossed the bridge and ventured into the forest.

But as she reached there, she realized she was near the end of the woods.

Ingver Town was nearby.

’You’re too arrogant, brat...’ Granny Linsa grinned. ’I’ll expose your strength to your own family. I’m sure some of your siblings would reward me handsomely for such information. Just you wait and see... This is not over! I’ll sacrifice that bitch Marsha and hand you over to your siblings!’

Splat!

Just as she thought that, her eyes widened at the sound of a wet splat.

To her right, there was a rotten chunk of meat.

And realizing what it was, her face was drained of all color.