Blood 32: Corrupted by Infidelity

Update proceeds without flaw—two-tiered defense intact!

Translation: Second update of today.

Too many events lately—my mind feels on the verge of collapse.

Lying down in a huff, waking up with clarity, I realize even I must admit yesterday’s actions were questionable.

Lars’s words were correct.

I cannot recall having ever met a woman named Fermina—indeed, I had not even registered her existence in awareness.

I recognize this as a failure on my part.

I understand the shock of realizing that someone I have held in absolute enmity has not even acknowledged my existence—let alone responded to me.

I have experienced it myself.

For Wakaba-hime, the existence of Negishi Akiko was like that.

That I now live again, and have interacted with her to this extent, feels strange.

What I did to Fermina was wrong.

I understand that.

I understand—but I can’t bring myself to apologize honestly.

What?

Fermina—chan?

A sudden use of—chan?

That master of mine, addressing her so familiarly, with—chan?

Hmph.

Calm down, Sophia.

Am I not acting strangely lately, thinking of my master like this?

I’ve been aware of it since my previous life, but recently, it feels like my focus has shifted to a different vector.

This is an unhealthy tendency.

Yet I cannot deny disliking Fermina, nor will that feeling change.

Apologizing in this state would be nothing but a hollow form, devoid of sincerity.

An apology must come only after genuine reflection and mental composure.

Above all, what infuriates me most is Lars—some outsider, stepping forward with arrogance, telling me, the rightful one, to apologize to Fermina.

Who does he think he is, lecturing me like that?

Wasn’t it wrong? Wasn’t it clearly wrong?

I know that already without being told!

I’ve been struggling through nausea all this time, haven’t I!

Driven forward by rising irritation, I sit up from the bed where I’d been lying.

I didn’t return to the dormitory yesterday. I was allowed to stay the night at the mansion.

Pulling back the curtains, I’m greeted by bright, refreshing sunlight.

It won’t turn me to ash—but that light weighs on my spirit.

Perhaps it was waiting for me to wake. The door knocks at the perfect moment.

I respond. The Maid from this mansion offers to assist with preparations.

I politely decline. I head toward the dining table, where breakfast is being prepared.

Someone is already there.

One is the master of the house.

His expression remains unchanged. But that face—only the morning meal ahead of him occupies his thoughts.

He does not react to the tense atmosphere.

"Good morning."

I exchange greetings with the other guest—Lars.

A tense exchange of glances unfolded between us, as if the room’s temperature had dropped physically.

We both knew—neither would yield.

After a prolonged stare, the meal arrived.

I was impressed by the Maid’s composure—she served us without expression, despite the oppressive atmosphere.

Lars broke eye contact, lowering his gaze. He took his seat beside the Master.

Silence persisted throughout the meal.

When finished, Lars turned his gaze toward me.

It was clear: there would be words after this.

“Sophia, come. We’re going to the Divine Word Church.”

The statement was cut short by the Master’s rare, lengthy utterance.

Even now, his nerve remains—dragging me away without reading the air. But where exactly is he taking me?

If I heard correctly, you just said something about the Divine Word Sect?

“Huh? What do you mean?”

It’s one of your bad habits—locking your thoughts inside your head and forcing them onto others without explanation.

I don’t understand how I would end up going to the Divine Word Sect.

Or rather, just what exactly is the Divine Word Sect’s location?

Even if you say Divine Word Sect, there are outposts scattered across the world.

You remain expressionless.

Yet you look genuinely astonished. That’s not my imagination, is it?

I’d appreciate it if you’d stop acting like I’m the one who doesn’t understand, when you’re the one who didn’t even finish articulating your own thoughts.

“Divine Word Sect?”

It was Lars’s mutter that pulled me back from freezing in confusion.

As if he didn’t understand the meaning of the term.

Ah.

Perhaps that’s just how it is when you live in the Demon Lord’s territory?

I haven’t heard the details of Lars’s origins, but I’ve heard he was a goblin.

It’s not surprising he doesn’t know, given that the religion widespread in human territories isn’t practiced in demon territories.

“Shintoism is a faith widely followed among humans. It claims the voice of the system’s message is divine, and encourages actively raising levels and skills to hear that voice more often—a completely nonsensical group.”

Personally, I’d add the footnote that they’re the ones who killed my parents.

But that’s irrelevant now. No need to explain it to him. I’ll leave it unmentioned.

Still, consider yourself lucky that I’m explaining it at all.

Lars nodded, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to sudden seriousness.

“Shiro-san, this doctrine…”

The master nodded in response.

What, am I being left out while the two of you make some kind of agreement?

How does that exchange even make sense?

"Can I come along too?"

Once again, my master nods.

That’s a nod meaning I’m allowed to follow, right?

Am I the only one sensing this situation is getting worse by the minute?