The Heroines Who Framed Me Are Clinging to Me

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]

Chapter 48 - Ilsal

Rain poured inside the office. Sticky, metallic-smelling rain.

The thick scent of blood was enough to make anyone grimace, but Yulia stood still, staring blankly ahead.

— Thud, thud, thud.

Blood droplets scattered like a heavy downpour.

Through the bloody mist, two figures came into view.

One of them must be Ilsal.

And the other...

"Hoo."

A familiar breathing sound.

A familiar voice, yet spoken with a completely different tone.

The dark shadow holding something long murmured as if in awe.

"That’s quite a beautifully shaped arm. And the fingers are long too."

The mist cleared.

Only then did the scene before her fully reveal itself.

Ilsal, clutching her shoulder, looked startled.

And standing in front of her, grinning wickedly.

'...Ortega.'

Those menacing, glowing eyes were so crimson and ferocious that they almost made one forget the body belonged to Lloyd.

"Ah, the scent of human blood is so delightful."

Ortega raised the severed arm in his hand to his mouth.

The exposed flesh of Ilsal’s arm, cut cleanly just below the shoulder.

Ortega’s tongue brushed against her pale skin.

With a sickening slurp, his tongue slowly traced the arm, licking from the severed shoulder, past the Blood Cult symbol, down the wrist, the back of the hand, and finally to the fingertips.

No one in the room dared to move while Ortega savored his feast, eyes closed as he relished the taste.

Even the arm’s original owner, Ilsal, could only stare in stunned silence, as if her soul had been drained.

Ilsal.

Her strength was such that she could compete on an empire-wide scale, not just in Eastan.

From the moment Yulia stepped into her office, she had realized the vast difference in their abilities.

'I didn’t even sense her magic.'

Yulia’s abilities were focused on dismantling magic.

Her Reverse Eyes allowed her to reverse the flow of mana at its very core. Her mana detection alone was several times more acute than that of an ordinary mage, or even most skilled ones.

And yet.

She hadn’t been able to detect the sorcery Ilsal used to invoke the nightmare spell. All she had noticed was that the air had felt... off.

‘...I was careless.’

Of course, this was Ilsal’s stronghold. It wasn’t shameful to be caught off guard by a powerful foe who could have set her magic up in advance. But even so.

Grit.

Her tightly clenched fist hurt, digging into her palm.

The pain didn’t matter. No, it was appropriate.

Yulia should have been able to break this kind of spell. She should have grasped the situation more sharply and warned Lloyd in time.

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She should have prevented this—Lloyd losing control of his body to Ortega.

She had been on guard, always on edge.

Praying Ortega wouldn’t awaken.

Praying that calamity wouldn’t strike again.

‘...’

At some point, Yulia had started praying every night.

Though she didn’t believe in any god, she would kneel at the foot of her bed.

She clasped her hands together and prayed.

Please.

Please don’t let me have to kill Lloyd.

With hazy vision, Yulia watched.

Ortega and Ilsal faced off.

Would Lloyd come back?

If not, she might have to kill him before Ortega regained his full power.

— Boom!

A massive explosion echoed.

The bookshelf behind Ortega exploded, sending books and wooden fragments flying.

Each shard, sharp as a dagger, shot through the air like throwing knives.

Ortega waved his hand, watching the projectiles with casual indifference.

— Thud thud thud!

A cloud of dust rose briefly.

But it was as if nothing had happened—splintered pieces of wood lay neatly on the floor behind Ortega, all sliced cleanly in half.

Smirk.

Ortega twisted his head with a grin.

"You make for a worthy fight, woman."

"...What are you? You’re not the same as when you entered my spell."

At last, Ilsal’s strained voice emerged.

Gone was her earlier confidence. Now, she stood on edge, like a cat bristling in front of a predator.

Ortega’s voice dripped with mockery.

"Ah, don’t think too hard about it."

Step.

Every step Ortega took forward, Ilsal took one back.

"You just got unlucky, that’s all. Sometimes, when you walk down the street, you get hit by a carriage or buried under a collapsing building, right? Think of it like that."

"What in the world..."

"Even I didn’t think a monster was hiding in this weak boy’s body. He looks frail enough, but he’s got quite the thick walls, you see. Heheh."

Thud.

Ilsal’s back hit the wall.

She couldn’t retreat any further.

Ortega stopped right in front of her.

"You’re lucky. That pathetic little spell of yours woke me up. Even though the way you did it was clumsy, I’ll give you a little praise."

"...I was wrong."

Ilsal’s sudden apology made Yulia and the chief’s eyes widen.

She wasn’t the type to bow her head so easily, was she?

But they couldn’t blame her.

Ortega had once taken on an entire empire by himself. Hardly anyone could remain composed in front of him.

"...Please, spare me."

Ilsal’s voice trembled with what sounded like pleading.

Ortega frowned.

"No, no. You don’t need to apologize. An assassin, right? Shouldn’t you be showing a bit more spine instead of groveling like this?"

"Yes. Just give me one more chance—"

"Woman."

Crack.

Ortega reached out and grabbed Ilsal’s face.

"Don’t ruin the mood. You make your living as an assassin, but you’re this clueless? Fight me. Come at me with the intent to kill, or at least put up a show of resistance. That’s the only way I’ll find this even a little bit interesting."

"But if I do that, I’ll die—"

"I would’ve already killed you under normal circumstances."

Ortega glanced around before continuing.

"But today, I’m in a good mood. It’s been a while since I’ve been out. And you helped make that happen."

"......."

"So, entertain me."

The moment Ortega finished speaking, Ilsal’s expression changed.

Gone was the submissive look from moments earlier, replaced by the cold, calculating eyes of an assassin. Without hesitation, she drew a dagger hidden in her thigh and lunged forward.

Flick.

Ortega blocked the blade aimed at his artery with a simple flick of his finger.

"Too slow, woman."

Ilsal bit her lower lip, and blood trickled out.

"Hoo."

Ortega’s admiration was brief.

The drop of blood suddenly expanded, enveloping Ortega in an instant.

Sizzle!

Where the blood touched him, it burned as if molten metal had splashed onto him, melting his flesh.

But Ortega simply chuckled.

"Blood magic? No, I see. You had the blood pre-engraved with a spell. Impressive enough, I suppose."

Flick, flick.

Brushing off the blood, Ortega spoke again.

"But I don’t much care for the Blood Cult’s magic. You’d better tone it down."

"Die!"

Before Ortega could finish his sentence, Ilsal charged once more, this time wielding a long, sleek sword.

Blue mana surged along the blade’s edge, causing the chief’s eyes to widen in shock.

"She’s using both magic and aura… just what is this woman?"

But his words were cut short.

Boom!

Ortega swatted Ilsal to the ground with a simple wave of his hand.

The overwhelming difference in power was undeniable.

Ortega twisted his arm behind his back and yawned lazily.

"If I’d known this was all you had, I would’ve cut off your arm a little later. You’re not making this interesting at all."

His bored gaze scanned the room.

And then it stopped on Yulia.

"You’ll entertain me, won’t you?"

Smirk.

As Ortega’s grin spread, a chill ran down Yulia’s spine.

In that moment.

— Splurt!

Once again, blood splattered across Ortega’s body.

This time, Ilsal’s eyes had turned a deep crimson, her pupils dilated to the extreme.

It was the “berserk” state that the Blood Cult members could trigger just before death, pouring out every ounce of their strength.

"You need to step back."

The chief quickly grabbed Yulia and pulled her back.

"I’ve never seen someone of her caliber enter a berserk state before."

Ilsal felt the same.

She hadn’t expected she’d have to use berserk mode, knowing it would cost her more than half of her life force.

She simply had no choice.

‘This bastard…’

Even as her vision turned red, Ilsal gritted her teeth. Was it when she accepted that commission from Claire? Or when she first crossed paths with Lloyd? When should she have backed out of this mess?

Such regrets were meaningless now as she stood before the insurmountable wall that was Ortega.

"Hyaaaaaaaah!"

With all her strength, Ilsal unleashed a final, desperate strike.

Her sword shot toward Ortega with deadly precision.

But in that instant.

Crack!

Ilsal felt all the strength leave her body.

No, it was as if the world itself had shattered.

The world fell apart diagonally before her eyes.

"This wasn’t very fun."

With a sigh, Ortega’s words echoed as Ilsal’s shattered body crumbled to the ground.

Her dismembered corpse rolled across the blood-soaked floor.

Disgusted by the mess on his boots, Ortega glanced down and grimaced.

"Filthy."

Tsk.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and started walking.

And at the end of his path...

"Princess Yulia!"

Thud!

The village chief, who had rushed forward, was violently thrown against the wall, where he collapsed and fell unconscious.

Yulia bit her lower lip.

There was nothing she could do at the moment.

Ortega, now fully covered in Ilsal’s blood, oozed the stench of death.

With Lloyd’s face twisted into a sinister smile, Ortega approached Yulia.

"The descendant of the Reverse Eyes."

Yulia’s vision blurred.

She could feel the pressure on her cheeks—Ortega had grabbed her face with one hand, gripping her tightly.

"I’d love to crush your skull right here."

His crimson eyes gleamed, burning with intensity.

[Translator - Peptobismol]

[Proofreader - Demon God]