NOVEL NEXT Chapter 13 - Patience
Scene 013: Patience
I collapsed to the ground, drained of strength. The rage that had been boiling inside me cooled like water extinguishing a flame. My mind, once clouded as if shrouded in fog, began to clear.
“Damn…” I muttered, staring up at the ceiling.
It had been a disgusting experience—feeling as though my body were no longer my own. As the corruption deepened, controlling it became increasingly difficult.
I touched my body, feeling the familiar chubby flesh. I was myself again—Tristan. But my fist, the one that had struck William, still throbbed, as though the painful memory had left a mark.
Who would have thought he had such a past?
Ruelberta’s obsession with magic, his father who valued everything based on its worth, and the nannies who were reduced to corpse puppets by his father’s hands. Young Tristan had been driven to despair, consumed by hatred, and blinded by rage. The trial had been a reflection of that past. Everything—from the visit to Duke Isaachel to the assassins’ attack—had been real.
And… Tristan must have killed William with his own hands.
In return, he gained ‘Wrath’
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Trait: Wrath
Rank: SS
Description: From the depths of despair, you discover rage. It burns in your chest, an unrelenting fire that consumes your soul. Only those who inherit this flame can wield it. No one can face your wrath head-on. They will tremble before it and kneel in fear. Rage, and rage again, until the world is swallowed by your fury.
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Phew, this trait was one of the Seven Deadly Sins. If William had spoken the truth, the rage was a trait passed down through Ruelberta’s bloodline—a powerful force that subdued others. But as the description warned, the more you use it, the more it consumes you.
Only now did I understand why William had seemed so empty, so devoid of emotion. He had burned down to nothing but ash, a man whose soul had been consumed by rage. This explains why the heads of the family always die young. They must have chosen to sacrifice themselves to their rage.
William had shown Tristan despair and ignited his rage. And then, Tristan had killed him. That was the hidden truth of the Ruelberta family.
“You don’t need to forgive me.”
William’s final words echoed in my mind.
Even if Tristan hadn’t killed William then, he would have died anyway. He had planned it all along.
I stared into space. The world, once drenched in rage, began to clear up. The illusion of the past, created by the trial, was crumbling. The blue sky emerged, and the peaceful scenery made it seem like everything I’d endured had never happened at all.
Suddenly, Michaela’s small face popped into view.
“Hey… loser. You did it, huh?”
Michaela looked down at me, impressed.
It hit me then—I had returned to Eden.
“Ha! I would’ve put a few bullets in that psycho’s head if it were me. What a shame. If you had, you would’ve been trapped in that trial forever.”
“……”
“Loser, I’m impressed.”
Michaela chuckled in that irritating way of hers.
So, if I had shot William back then, I would be trapped in that trial forever.
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Trait: Patience
Rank: SS
Description: The world tests you. It shakes you, leaving scars on your soul. This trait helps you stay true to yourself, no matter what happens. Even when overwhelmed by emotion, you remain calm. When you hit your limit, you take one more step forward.
Warning: this trait may conflict with other traits.
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Phew. This trait was one of the Seven Virtues.
I had obtained one of the Seven Virtues. Lucky. It was a trait I had secretly hoped for. Patience would rein in the darker parts of me.
“Hey, why the long face after landing such a great trait? Cheer up, loser,” Michaela teased.
I sighed. “I’m just tired.”
And I was. The trial had been brutal. All I wanted was to get back to the mansion and collapse.
“I get it,” Michaela said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The trial was just a shadow of the past. No matter what you do there, it doesn’t change the present. So forget it.”
Her expression was sad as she spoke. Even a goddess like her must have faced tragedies she couldn’t have changed. Being omniscient, yet powerless—how could that not be depressing?
“Speaking from experience?”
“Think of it however you want. People have always twisted the words of gods to suit themselves.”
Michaela smiled mischievously. It was hard to tell if that smile belonged to an ancient soul or a child.
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Character Profile:
Name: Michaela
Age: ???
Occupation: Absolute Goddess, First Human, Master of Eden, etc.
Traits: Possesses every possible trait that exists in this world.
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Just one of these traits is enough to drive someone crazy. Having all of them? I can’t even imagine how exhausting that must be.
“If you’re done here, get lost. Trash.”
Michaela tightened her grip on my shoulder. It hurt, but I didn’t let it show. Was she doing this on purpose? As if reading my thoughts, Michaela let out a soft, mocking laugh.
“There’s no place for villains like you in my Eden.”
With those final words, my vision blurred. In an instant, I found myself standing in front of a familiar mansion. Perhaps Michaela was being considerate, sending me home to rest.
“Tsk if she was going to send me back, she could’ve at least dropped me in my room… What a petty Goddess.”
But… it felt like I had forgotten something important. Ugh…
No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t remember.
It wasn’t until the next day at noon that it finally hit me.
“Do… do you have any idea how long I’ve been searching? I spent the entire day looking all over Eden for you…” Wendy said.
Wendy was reading a letter. Unlike her usual tasks, this one was simple—just reading words off a page. It seemed lucky that she could use the reading skills she’d learned at the count’s estate for something like this. Yet to Wendy, this felt like a new kind of torment, one she had never experienced before.
“Y-you… awful… bastard.”
“Read it again.”
“Hic! Please, no! My lord! Please! This is too much…”
Wendy pleaded with teary eyes, but the man remained indifferent.
“Read. Is there something you don’t understand?”
“N-no, that’s not it…”
“Then read.”
“Y-yes, sir…”
Wendy swallowed nervously.
Then she read the line from the letter again.
“You… horrible bastard.”
“I see.”
“You’re still just as worthless… Sniff… a piece of trash…”
“I see.”
“I-I’m so sorry!”
Wendy couldn’t take it anymore and fell to her knees. At that moment, the man who had been reading a newspaper finally looked up.
“Is that also in the letter?”
“N-no, I was apologizing…”
“And what exactly are you apologizing for?”
“Well…”
Wendy looked up, and standing before her was a plump, sour-faced man—Tristan Ruelberta, the count. He was the master of the mansion and Wendy’s lord.
The moment Wendy met his sharp gaze, she quickly bowed her head again. In a trembling voice, she whispered, “M-my lord is not a terrible man.”
“Hm?” Tristan tilted his head slightly.
“Did Lady Bella Isaachel write something like that? Poor girl. She’s still young, but her mind is already slipping.”
“No, my lord! That’s not what I meant!”
Wendy squirmed uncomfortably, like a fish out of water, which made Tristan frown.
“Wendy, compose yourself.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“If you’re going to be my maid, then act like it.”
“Y-yes, sir…”
Wendy clutched the hem of her apron tightly with her small hands. The uniform she wore wasn’t her usual worn-out maid’s outfit; it was much more refined. A special uniform embroidered with the black lion, the symbol of the Ruelberta family. Only the personal maid was allowed to wear it.
“But where’s your supervisor?”
“P-pardon?”
“The person responsible for training you.”
“Well, um… I’m your first personal maid, so… there wasn’t anyone to pass things down to me…”
There had never been a personal maid before. Which, honestly, made sense. No one wanted to serve someone as notoriously difficult as Tristan. He nodded, seeming to understand.
“I see… In that case, I’ll have to train you from scratch.”
“T-train me?”