Contract Marriage with the Devil Duke (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 14
Having finished his recollection, Dimidius clenched his fist tightly. Such a thing must never happen again. Had Kilrun not happened to bring someone capable of transferring holy power just in time, he would have been utterly consumed by darkness.
Dimidius didn’t hate his mother Lilith as James did, but neither did he love or miss her. Thus, his desire not to become a demon and his wish to retain his humanity and human body stemmed simply from the fact that he had always lived among humans.
“I know all too well… that I need holy power to live as a human.”
Yet despite knowing this fully, the Church people refused to cooperate. They merely despised and loathed him solely because he was half-demon.
So wasn’t it precisely the Church’s people who were pushing him toward becoming a demon?
Five years ago, the Empress had sent someone to kill him precisely because she was an extremely devout believer. She might have viewed him as an obstacle to the Crown Prince. Even now, she secretly watched for any opportunity to kill him, this half-demon.
Finding the whole situation utterly absurd, Dimidius sat in his chair and propped both legs up onto the high desk. He certainly felt off today. Normally, his extreme sensitivity already made it hard for him to sleep well.
Dimidius wiggled his legs and muttered,
“Should I just go ahead and kidnap the lady?”
Among the few people capable of freely wielding holy power, she was the only one with no ties to the Church.
From the moment he unleashed his demonic power on the train, he had once again become in need of someone to transfer holy power to him—not to mention the phantom herb, which was naturally required as well.
For about five years, holy artifacts had sufficed, but not now.
Dimidius did not want to return to the past.
Not in that monstrous form.
Never.
[This is the timeline separator]The Odor Provincial Cathedral was a church famed for its exceptionally beautiful frescoes. The Twelve Gods who protected the Bonus Empire adorned the entire ceiling of the main cathedral. In particular, the hair of the deity responsible for beauty and art was rendered so vividly that it rippled like living waves, stretching endlessly until it reached the stained-glass windows.
And the oak door engraved with the original crest.
The golden altar beneath the central dome.
Priests clad in white vestments moving about.
And Orentia standing in the nave—her, precisely.
Orentia knew this dream she was having now wasn’t an ordinary one. Though her contract husband hadn’t appeared this time, she could sense it just from the feeling.
Just then—
Someone hurled themselves from a top-floor window of the Odor Provincial Cathedral.
Thud!
Orentia, standing in the nave, was so shocked by the woman crashing down before her that she froze, unable to do anything.
Only an extravagantly ornate orange seashell hairpin rolled toward the petrified Orentia.
“Aaah!”
‘Dreaming about someone else committing suicide… such an ill-omened dream…’
Even though she knew it was just a dream, Orentia’s entire body was drenched in sweat. She swallowed hard and fiddled with her damp hair, then suddenly remembered the orange seashell hairpin rolling toward her.
She knew exactly what it was.
“Wasn’t that the limited edition piece Madame introduced?”
She’d thought it pretty—but could she really have dreamed something so extreme just because she wanted it?
To clear her head, Orentia threw back the covers and slowly sat before her dressing-table mirror. Her face was probably deathly pale.
It was still early dawn, before Bobby had even arrived.
As Orentia absentmindedly glanced into the mirror, she jumped.
“What—what is this? Why are the wounds gone?”
She tilted her head, scrutinizing her neck. Disbelieving, she even carried the mirror over to the window to check it in the sunlight.
Yet it remained unchanged. Her neck was perfectly smooth, as if no accident had ever happened.
“All I did was apply some ointment.”
She hadn’t summoned a healer or physician, nor had she used any healing tools.
‘When I held the Lady’s hand, I felt it.’
‘I sensed holy power. You may not be aware, Lady, but you were clearly born with it. Being half-human and half-demon myself… I can unmistakably sense whether someone possesses holy power or not.’
Suddenly, Dimidius’s words echoed in her mind.
The greatest advantage of holy power was its healing ability—a formidable power capable of protecting both oneself and others!
Trembling, Orentia set the mirror back down on the dressing table.
“Me…? The one with abilities appearing in Armenuaka once every hundred years?”
There were only about thirty people in the Bonus Empire who possessed holy power. Aside from the untouchably powerful Saintess and Pope, the Archbishop was the strongest among them. Excluding those three, everyone else had fairly similar levels of ability, and most were affiliated with the Church.
Holy power was characteristically divided into three categories.
First was the sacred light, which priests held in highest regard—its power capable of destroying evil spirits. Only the Saintess and the Pope could use this light against demons, not just spirits.
Second was healing power. It was said that those who possessed holy power despite not being priests could earn vast fortunes through healing. However, this healing power varied greatly by individual—some could only mend minor wounds, while others could save someone on the brink of death.
Lastly was offensive power. In the Armenuaka comital family’s long gallery, portraits depicted ancestors who generated white orbs, which could strike others.
This too varied in strength depending on how large an orb one could manifest. Moreover, among those with holy power, very few could meaningfully utilize offensive capabilities.
Perhaps this was because holy power, by nature, was a bright and radiant ability meant to save people.
Many thoughts raced through Orentia’s mind.
“Haha! Seriously, that’s ridiculous. It means I really do have at least some holy power.”
Last night, she’d witnessed the phantom herb’s pulse emitting holy power, and this morning, she’d confirmed her self-healing. There was no denying it anymore.
‘Wait a minute… but something feels off.’
Orentia stood up from her seat and cried out,
“Well, it’s a good thing to have, isn’t it!”
Why would she deny it?
It was an extremely significant ability—one that would further solidify her position as the true heir carrying on the Armenuaka lineage.
Precisely for that reason, however, she needed to be extra cautious.
Orentia resolved to keep this a secret until she was absolutely certain.
[This is the timeline separator]It seemed a light spring rain had fallen briefly before dawn.
Stepping outside the mansion, the ground was still soft and damp. At least the rain had stopped by morning—that was fortunate.
Today was an important day: her uncle, Count Odor, was to introduce her to Archbishop Verbu.
Orentia wore modest and dignified attire.
It was an elegant purple velvet crinoline dress exuding sophistication, with not a single patch of skin exposed—only a faint hint of lace trimmed the cuffs.
She neatly tied her hair back and wore crimson ankle boots. There wasn’t a single ornate embroidery or ribbon.
‘This should be enough.’
She had to make a good impression on Archbishop Verbu. He was known among Bonus citizens as a humble man who valued simplicity. She didn’t know his true nature, but it was wiser to align with his public stance.
Nervously, Orentia swallowed hard. Seeing this, Bobby encouraged her.
“You look absolutely perfect, Miss. It’s hardly different from your usual attire.”
“Yes. I just hope I don’t make any mistakes in front of His Grace.”
“You’re a clever lady, Miss. I know you’ll do wonderfully.”
At that moment, a blackwood carriage bearing the crescent moon crest arrived at the mansion gates.
Though Orentia dearly loved the apricot tree—the Armenuaka crest—she also thought the Odor comital family’s crescent moon was quite lovely.
Perhaps it was because of walking with Dimidius just a few days ago down that moonlit forest path.
Orentia beamed at her uncle, Count Odor, stepping down from the carriage.
“Uncle! You look especially dashing today!”
Indeed, Count Odor had clearly made an effort—his hair slicked neatly back with pomade and clad in a refined morning coat.
Grinning widely at his niece’s compliment, Count Odor escorted Orentia. She naturally took his hand and boarded the carriage, then, as soon as she leaned back into the plush leather seat, her eyes sparkled.
“Uncle, hurry aboard. I absolutely must find out today.”
“Find out what?”
“About Archbishop Verbu. Why has he come to the Odor province? Won’t you please tell me?”
“I told you—it’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.”
“Is that really true? What if I accidentally say something inappropriate in front of His Grace and make a blunder?”
“Know your enemy and know yourself, and you’ll win every battle,” as the saying went.
Orentia wanted to learn everything she could about the Archbishop. But Count Odor simply folded his arms tightly, clearly refusing to budge.
“For someone who claims it’s none of her business, your attire is remarkably modest and simple, niece.”
Orentia pouted. It seemed impossible to get it out of her uncle.
How much time had passed since then?
Finally, they arrived at the Odor Provincial Cathedral.
Escorted by her uncle, Orentia stepped onto the ground—and immediately frowned.
“What… what is this…?”
The cathedral looked exactly as it had in her dream. Especially the nave where she’d stood—it was identical, so vividly real it sent chills down her spine.
Shocked, Orentia stumbled backward, unable to enter the church.
“Niece, what’s wrong?”
Confused by her reaction, her uncle asked. Orentia gasped for breath and asked,
“Did I… did I ever come here when I was young?”
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
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What about her cousin Sokor? It might explain his personality changes.