I Possessed The Immoral Empress

Noctavinus was not only an indispensable figure for Arvian but also held a special significance for Ermedeline.

In the original story, Ermedeline was a witch who sold cursed magic for money and caused numerous deaths through a large-scale plague. However, since the genre of the original novel was romance fantasy, direct murder scenes were rarely depicted. Noctavinus was the only significant character whose death at the hands of Ermedeline was explicitly described.

When Ermedeline saw him at the Grand Temple, she felt relieved. She couldn’t save those who had already died, but by possessing this body, she could save someone who would otherwise die in the future. His existence was a symbol of hope and proof for her. In this dreadful novel where things got worse the more one struggled to survive, he was the only one saved because of her presence. He was evidence that the world hadn’t completely gone to ruin after she took over. Even in the worst situations, even when she wanted to give up immediately, he was a slender thread of hope that her efforts would one day bear fruit.

“Nooo!” Arvian screamed and began to run towards Noctavinus.

Ermedeline stared blankly at his precarious back for a moment before quickly snapping back to reality. Noctavinus was bleeding from every orifice. His sweat was mixed with blood, covering his entire body in a sticky red, but the white light emanating from him remained holy.

“Damn it!”

Ermedeline cursed, forgetting her dignity, and tried to follow Arvian. Felio grabbed her arm. He didn’t say anything, but Ermedeline understood the meaning in his mysterious silver eyes. Normally as still as a frozen winter lake, his eyes now shimmered with chaotic light like white waves crashing onto the shore during a storm.

Although Ermedeline did not want to break her promise to him, she shook her head resolutely, meeting his stern gaze. Understanding, Felio released her arm without a word.

“High Priest!”

Ermedeline screamed frantically as she chased after Arvian. As the curse was purified, the soldiers of the Trivian Empire slowly regained their strength. Felio closely followed Ermedeline, casting spells to protect her amidst the resumed chaos of the battlefield.

By the time they reached Noctavinus, his flame was already dying out. The radiant light that had once filled the pitch-black battlefield was now dissipating into the air, bidding farewell.

“No! Old man!”

Arvian crawled through the pool of blood made from his mentor’s lifeblood to reach him.

“Damn it! Damn it!”

Arvian desperately tried to transfer his holy power to Noctavinus, but Noctavinus rejected it.

“Not yet.”

“What?”

“The curse… hasn’t been fully purified.”

“This crazy old man, what are you talking about! Do you really want to die?”

Arvian once again attempted to forcibly transfer his holy power to Noctavinus, but the priest refused life once more.

“I have fulfilled my role. You…”

Noctavinus paused briefly, then looked up at Arvian with his clear, bright green eyes.

“No, you… you will live as you wish.”

These were his final words.

Noctavinus, the first servant who served the gods as the High Priest of the Trivian Empire for over 60 years, ended his brilliant life here.

“What… what is this… a joke? This is a joke, right?”

Arvian, in disbelief, laughed hollowly and shook the lifeless body of Noctavinus in his arms.

“Damn it! Don’t joke around! Wake up, quickly!”

He shook him, but no matter how much he did, the body from which the soul had already departed did not respond.

“Get up! Get up! You old geezer!”

Watching this, Ermedeline felt as though the ground beneath her feet was collapsing.

The crack that had started from her was growing larger, swallowing everything around her except herself.

She just wanted to live.

Like in her previous life, she didn’t expect anyone’s help.

She just wanted to stand on her own in this unfamiliar land.

But unfortunately, in both her past life and this one, even such a modest wish seemed to be a luxury.

Even the one she believed had changed fate from death to life due to her possession had died.

Listening to Arvian’s anguished cries, Ermedeline felt like collapsing.

She wanted to sit down and pray that all this was just a dream she had while being hit by a truck.

Or that she was dreaming while lying in an emergency room after reading too many romance fantasies.

But no matter how much she pinched her thighs and blinked her eyes, this place was real.

Noctavinus, just before completely passing away, had slightly turned his head to look at Ermedeline standing behind Arvian.

He smiled at her while his life was fading away.

A faint but definite smile.

Because she saw that smile, Ermedeline didn’t even have the luxury of crying.

Thanks to Noctavinus purifying the curse at the cost of his life, most of the curse had been lifted for the time being, but even he couldn’t fully purify the enormous magic circle.

Ermedeline had to focus on breaking the curse that was once again trying to bind the soldiers of Trivian.

Felio, a few mages who had followed, and the soldiers who could still move gathered around her to help her concentrate.

Ermedeline silently raised her right hand, staring ahead.

As she spread her hand wide and then clenched it, the curse on the Frianton soldiers within her sight was lifted.

Ermedeline knew that having a medium to concretely visualize the magic in her mind made using it easier. Felio used a specially crafted sword to channel his magic for this very reason.

However, calling herself a mage still felt awkward for Ermedeline, and she found using a wand or her hands uncomfortable, unlike other mages.

Because of this, her magic’s speed and intensity were diminished when she tried to cast spells purely mentally.

But right now, Ermedeline couldn’t think about any of that. Her shyness and timidity were irrelevant.

All she could focus on was annihilating the enemies before her.

Wherever the Empress’s hand pointed, death followed.

The Frianton soldiers, already weakened from being forced to move under the curse, returned to their frail human forms as soon as the curse was lifted. They were easily dispatched by the mages and the still able-bodied soldiers of the Trivian Empire.

Only after countless bodies piled up did the relentless battle finally come to an end.

While the situation elsewhere was unknown, at least in this place, the Trivian army had secured victory.

Exhausted, Ermedeline collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily.

“Huff… huff…”

Her vision was already blurred, and every breath brought the taste of iron to her throat, but they had won.

The mages and surviving soldiers gathered around Ermedeline, cheering loudly.

“Long live the Empress!”

“Long live the Empress!!”

It had been so long since she heard such cheers.

Yet, despite the roaring acclaim, Ermedeline couldn’t feel entirely pleased.

Death and awakening—what a cliché.

When reading it in a novel, it seemed like just another predictable plot point, but experiencing it firsthand revealed the truth.

Just as a cornered rat will bite a cat, people can muster extraordinary strength in desperate situations.

While dramatic in text, in reality, death was simply death for those living it.

It was nothing but a horrific tragedy.