The Villainess Proposed a Contractual Marriage

Status: 5/week mon-fri

Illustrations: posted in discord

How many days had passed since the night Elphisia was reclaimed?

That day, Harte fainted immediately after encountering the Pope. When he opened his eyes after such a long time had passed, everything was pitch black.

It was only later that he realized this was the punishment room for managing sins within the temple.

Thus, he remained ignorant of the current state of affairs.

To Harte, who was curled up tightly in the dark space, a visitor spoke.

"The Demon King has been destroyed and the High Priest has lost his life. Moreover, half of the demon realm was burned."

He recited the facts dispassionately.

"The demons can no longer threaten humans. But humans invading and exterminating the demons won't happen either."

Next, he asked:

"Historically, how long do you think peace has lasted until now?"

Harte could only shake his head. He rarely had the opportunity to look into that specifically.

After a brief silence, the figure's words were shocking.

"A full 300 years. Of course, small-scale conflicts between the two races occurred, but compared to 'real war', the number of casualties is insignificant. Now, I'll ask again."

"..."

"How long do you think peace between humans has lasted?"

Again, Harte shook his head. He had only wandered outside the temple for about a year. It was natural to lack historical knowledge.

"Since the founding of the Empire... that is, since the conclusion of the 'Human Defense Agreement', there has been none. Because the demons, humanity's common enemy, united humanity. Well, to oppose the demons who formed monarchies on a racial scale, humans had to stop their conflicts and unite as well."

In short, the point of the man's words was simple.

"The current leaders of humanity don't want conflict, it seems. They want to maintain this well-crafted peace. Therefore, the demons will continue to exist as a necessary evil for the foreseeable future."

The man added no commentary or opinion on this. It was a wise choice, as injecting his views on politics would overstep his bounds.

"... I'm just telling you this. I'm not sharing this story with any particular emotion."

A deep sigh was heard. Then, he continued speaking while looking at Harte with anguished eyes.

"I shouldn't be doing this, but... I want to respect what little life you have left. More than anything, Harte has the right to ignore this, face it, or exist..."

Eventually, he opened the door.

Even on a gloomy day, the outside was brighter than the solitary cell.

The weak light invaded Harte's field of vision, tormenting his eyes. Having been separated from light for so long, his eyes hurt.

The man was surprised to see Harte breathing roughly in pain. It was a shockingly unfamiliar sight that was impossible to expect in his lifetime.

"I'd rather you avoid the prayer room when you leave, Harte. I don't want Ibria and Erehite to see you like this."

"...... Understood. Your Holiness."

The rough voice grated on the Pope's ears. It was a voice devoid of the timbre that had been close to a falsetto.

Harte silently moved forward under the cloudy sky, dragging his faltering body.

It looked like rain would pour down at any moment.

Even so, he couldn't dare to look up at the sky. He was too ashamed to project the sky onto his vision without hesitation, his sins too deep.

After a few days, cooling his head, he became aware of reality.

He realized the gravity of sin clinging to his shadow.

Nevertheless, he wanted to see her.

He didn't mind even if it meant just stealing glances from afar.

It was okay even if she never recognized him again.

He just wanted to watch over her well-being from beyond the corner until the end of his life.

Foolishly.

Not realizing that even that was too much to hope for.

Not realizing that a great sinner doesn't even have the right to dream.

He just walked.

Outside the temple.

Leaving the comfortable shelter where he was born and raised, towards the cold streets.

Because Harte's world was already outside.

Because the world he desired was actually quite small and tender.

Wanting to lend even his meager strength.

Because that was the only value left in the ashes that had burned...

He walked aimlessly.

To see the crimson that had become his world.

---

---

It was a day when cheers pierced the sky.

As soon as he exited the temple, a sweltering heat warmed the streets. The atmosphere was as if a festival was being held. Various emotions were etched on the faces of the gathered people.

Anger. Expectation. Envy. Happiness.

It was amazing how elements that don't harmonize gathered in one place.

Meanwhile, the gazes of the colorful, dissonant eyes were sharp.

It was like a volcano just before eruption. It seemed it would explode with a roar if given even a slight shock.

If you listened closely, you could hear petty curses.

It's a relief. Even someone like that eventually falls. Justice is alive in this world. Et cetera.

Among them were plenty of taunts that pierced Harte's heart.

It was when Harte was walking aimlessly, pushing through the crowd.

Thwack!

Taken by surprise, Harte plopped down with a thud.

"What the hell? F*cking annoying beggar."

"..."

"Huh, whatever. I guess I can let it slide once on a day like today."

The burly man spat on the ground and walked away nonchalantly. There was no hesitation in his movements as he pushed through the crowd. Every time he shoved people aside with his hands, a path opened up as if parting water.

Harte took advantage of that.

A path of sorts had formed in the crowd where it was difficult to see even a step ahead. Taking it as an opportunity, he secretly followed behind the man.

Once he got to the main road, he should be able to find Elphisia more easily.

Though he couldn't face her with such an unsightly appearance, just looking at her should be allowed.

With such a small hope, Harte blended into the center of the crowd.

"Disgusting..."

"What's this stench?"

"Crawling out just because there's a spectacle..."

People's faces turned hostile every time Harte passed by. It was fortunate he wasn't assaulted. Probably because the density was too high to even throw a punch. That's what Harte guessed.

Afterwards, as they moved forward, the crowd's density increased exponentially to the point where even the large man had difficulty breaking through. Finally, the ill-tempered burly man let out a deep sigh, as if he had no choice.

It was his declaration of giving up, in a way.

Still, the man must have been satisfied.

He had come far enough to directly witness the venue of an event that drew more people than the Empire's Founding Day festival.

Clunk, clunk!

On a tall structure, an official in uniform was testing a device. Harte was startled as soon as he recognized what the device was.

It was a guillotine.

It was an ominous object used only for public executions of great sinners who had incurred public wrath. He couldn't believe people had gathered just to watch such a gruesome thing.

However, Harte didn't know.

The guillotine is a consumable item newly erected each time a public execution takes place. The Empire didn't engage in terror politics to the extent of leaving it out in public places permanently.

In other words, the erection of a guillotine meant a criminal for public execution had appeared.

One who could heat up the imperial citizens gathered here, no less.

Finally, after confirming the perfect installation, the official proclaimed in a thunderous voice:

"At this time, we will carry out the execution of the criminal who has disturbed the Empire!"

"Ooooooh!"

The crowd rejoiced. Many people jumped up and down in place, waving their hands, and some even shed tears of joy.

Then the official added flowery modifiers.

"Bring forth Elphisia Luminel, the traitor of humanity and the villainess of the century."

"... What?"

Harte reflexively questioned. He doubted if what he had heard was true.

But as soon as he witnessed the woman being dragged in bonds from beyond the guillotine, Harte felt his mind go blank.

Her appearance was terribly wretched.

There wasn't a spot on her that wasn't swollen, and as if hinting at brutal torture, all her fingernails had been pulled out. Undoubtedly, her toenails would be no different.

Moreover, her auburn hair, which used to shine with luster at every moment, was now as coarse as a horse's tail. It even looked as if chunks of hair had been torn out by human hands.

"Elphi... sia..."

Harte murmured.

No matter how damaged she was, there was no way he wouldn't recognize her. Although she looked drastically different from when he last saw her, her crimson eyes remained unchanged.

"Elphisia...!"

It was too horrific to behold.

Wounds were strewn across her torn and tattered clothes. They were wounds inflicted by whipping. Thanks to that, pus oozed from the festering wounds.

Yet Elphisia maintained an expressionless face, as if numb to the pain. It was the unique look of someone whose hope had been trampled and lost all vitality.

"Kill her!"

"Let's kill the villainess!"

"Execution is too good for the likes of you!"

Countless malicious intents pricked Elphisia like needles. Just hearing them made Harte's heart ache. He wanted to grab Elphisia's hand and run away right then and there. So he tried to push through the crowd with all his might to move forward.

"Are you crazy?!"

Thwack!

His jaw was hit by a fist randomly swung by a passerby.

The world shook for a moment, and by the time he regained his senses, his center of gravity had tilted towards the passerby blocking his rear. The crowd's density was so high that he couldn't even fall down.

"Ah sh*t, disgusting."

The person he had leaned on spat out harsh words. But that was fine. There was someone truly suffering right before his eyes, too agonizing to worry about a stranger's words.

"Haa... Haa..."

The strength left his knees. Still, he faced forward. At times like this, it was fortunate that people were packed so tightly. If not for the crowd pressing in from all sides with no gaps, he would have long since lost his balance and fallen.

However, the cold reality contrasted sharply with the heated atmosphere.

No one made way for him, and Harte had to exert desperate force just to push past a single person.

Unlike Harte's slow steps, the cruel reality strode forward.

"Insert the neck."

The official ordered the executioner. The executioner then pressed down on Elphisia's nape, forcing her to kneel, and promptly inserted her head into the small hole.

As everything was being finalized, the official asked one last question.

"Any last words?"

"..."

Elphisia hesitated for a moment before speaking in a coy voice, as if sneering.

"I miss you."

Those were Elphisia's last words.

Clank!

The guillotine's teeth bit into her nape with a clamorous noise. A brutal slicing sound reverberated, drowning out all the surrounding noise.

Harte felt this way even though the spectators were all cheering.

Thud.

Elphisia's head rolled off the guillotine. A viscous liquid gushed from Elphisia's neck as she died with her eyes still open. Upon seeing this, Harte reacted as if he had lost his mind.

"Ah... Aah... Ah...!!!"

Strangely enough, the spot where Elphisia's head fell was right in front of Harte. As if trying to fulfill her last wish even in death, it landed at Harte's feet.

Harte carefully knelt down and picked up her head.

"Elphisia... Elphisia...!!!"

Tears fell.

It was the first time he shed tears since gaining self-awareness.

It felt as if a huge hole had been punched in his chest, and a spear carved with malice endlessly thrust its blade through that hole.

"Is this old hag crying right now?"

A man criticized Harte as if he was being dramatic.

"You'd think she was his lover or something."

"As if that's possible. Just look at the age difference. Maybe his granddaughter, if anything?"

They were right. At least on the surface, it was certain.

Snow-white hair. Wrinkled skin. Sagging flesh. Hunched back. The smell of an old man on the brink of death. All of these were the price that the vessel called Harte had paid.

It was the result of crossing the line that the bearer of a baptismal name should have kept, and forcibly drawing out power.

The physical time remaining for Harte was about a few days.

His current appearance was originally what Harte would look like after decades had passed, just before facing death.

"Elphisia... Elphisia... Uugh..."

Harte hugged Elphisia's head tightly to his chest. Even though it was a body without a soul, he wanted to protect her from the malice aimed at her.

He didn't want to project the harsh gazes of others onto her eyes, which had lost their luster.

However, the angry crowd would not leave this misconduct alone.

It was a joyous festival day when the villainess had been executed, after all. People craved to see the trophy they wanted to display - the final moments of humanity's traitor.

He doesn't know who stepped forward first. But when someone kicked Harte's back, and he stumbled ungracefully, madness ran rampant.

"How dare you embrace humanity's traitor? Are you out of your mind?"

"He must be one of them! Surely another traitor!"

"Let's just kill this bastard too!"

It was the prelude to a mob beating.

In an instant, Harte was pushed to the execution platform and felt a sharp pain in his shin. By the time he realized it, his legs had already given out and he had fallen to his knees. Right after, there was a cracking sound as his nose broke.

"Kuh..."

A fishy taste coated his lips. A warm, thin liquid flowed down to his chin. Even as blood dripped steadily, someone persistently kicked Harte.

He strongly sensed death approaching.

At best, he had a few days left in this body. His bones and skin were far too brittle to withstand the assault.

Death itself isn't frightening.

But leaving Elphisia alone was.

He was worried about her being thoroughly defiled and discarded after he was gone.

That's all.

She won't even be left with an intact corpse, and without leaving anything behind, she'll be engraved in history as the villainess of the century. Someone will surely disgrace Elphisia even generations later.

That's why he wants to protect her for as long as possible.

Even if it's just a corpse without warmth.

Even if the flesh rots and crumbles, leaving only white bones.

He wanted to stay by her side - she who was actually quite lonely.

By the time that desire filled his chest, Harte's lips were already moving on their own.

"Please, just one more chance..."

Elphisia gradually changed after meeting Harte, but it was too late.

The timing was inappropriate.

If only the two's connection had been forged just a little earlier, fate would have changed greatly.

"To Elphisia... to her... please give just one chance to change..."

Harte did not wish for his own salvation. Even if he stepped into the world of the dead and was consumed by karmic flames, he wanted to rescue at least Elphisia from there. He wished to safeguard Elphisia's well-being even if it meant sacrificing himself.

"... Baptismal name."

The time left to him, burning moment by moment.

Harte lit a candle to that short fuse.

"Messiah."

The invocation of the baptismal name.

By directly proclaiming the name of God given to him in the mortal realm, he forcibly stimulated divinity.

Golden particles manifested very weakly.

It was a precarious light that seemed it would go out at any moment. Like a firefly on the verge of death.

Harte, wrapped in a shabby halo, opened his mouth quietly.

"Please grant my wish..."

There was only one thing he desired.

"Please, turn back her time."

He pleaded with a cracking voice. Hoping that even a thin spider's thread would be lowered to a sinner who lived a wrong life.

The Sovereign God does not answer prayers.

It had always been so, and should continue to be so.

But the moment Harte dropped his head, someone's dreamlike voice penetrated Harte's consciousness.

─Withdraw your request.

It was a cold command. But Harte stubbornly persisted, hugging Elphisia's head even tighter.

"I implore you once again, please turn back time for her."

For a while, no voice responded. Yet Harte's will remained as firm as steel. Even as his faint life burned away with each passing moment, he continued to offer his prayer.

Soon after, amidst a world of curses and violence, a gentle voice tickled his ear once more.

─If you truly love her, pluck out your eyes so you may never again see her radiant smile.

"The love I've come to know doesn't require eyes. Even if the world goes dark, I have ears to gather her laughter."

Saying this, Harte plucked out his own eyes. As his optic nerves were torn, the world went black and blood flowed profusely. He sensed the wretched end of his life approaching.

It was then.

Someone forcibly twisted Harte's wrist. He distinctly felt Elphisia's head roll off his lap.

Thud, thud, crack!

The lingering echo of something crumbling filled his ears. Next, the sacred voice seductively urged Harte:

─If you truly love her, kill all those who mock her death. I shall grant you new power.

"Do not test her through me. She repented and emptied her anger."

Elphisia would never want such a thing.

She surely regretted it in the demon realm. She was a woman whose beautiful face had contorted in sorrow and regret for making him accumulate the karma of killing.

After that, the voice did not respond for a long time.

Cough!

Harte coughed up blood.

This time, the pain of his internal organs twisting tormented his entire body. As if he had reached the edge of a cliff just a few steps ahead, Harte's journey was rapidly coming to an end.

─I shall make you my avatar and bestow upon you power that spans the human realm. Women will naturally follow you and offer supreme pleasure, and all treasures will safeguard your wellbeing.

"I don't need that. To me, her smile is more precious than any brilliant divine gift in this world... no matter how selfish that may be."

...

......

Thud.

The sound of his heart stopping echoed.

All strength drained from his body, and his breath caught.

His consciousness, as fragile as a thread about to snap, completely faded.

The fate no one can escape overtook him.

It was death.

In his ears, as he burned the last of his life, a voice tinged with benevolence lingered.

─Your faith has reached the name of God.

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