Chapter 160

At that moment, the hand holding her fountain pen went still. The nib touched the paper, and ink began to bloom across the page. The female lead, entangled in a string of incidents, and the unsettling pace of events unfolded sooner than in the original story.

Evelyn’s suspicions toward Dahlia hardened into conviction, and with it came a chilling sense of revelation.

“It’s almost as if…”  

It was as if that woman knew the original story.

All of a sudden, she recalled a passage from an old book she had read some time ago.

「 Occasionally, a wicked being may cross over from another world and take possession of another’s body. This is akin to a form of soul sorcery, and the soul of the one whose body is taken naturally perishes. 」

As the words she had once read echoed vividly in her mind, plausible theories began to weave themselves together.

…What if she were still manipulating events to ensure they unfolded according to the original story?

Drawing two sharp lines beneath the fifth line, Evelyn tightened her grip on the fountain pen.

Fifth, she may possess the power to foresee the future or maybe she is also a transmigrant.

Only then did the sense of dissonance she had always felt between Dahlia and the female lead of the story begin to make sense.

The fragments of mystery slowly fell into place, the puzzle finally forming a coherent picture.

Just as she had written in her notes, it seemed Dahlia either possessed the power to see the future or held knowledge of the original story itself.

And she must already see me as an obstacle.

Whatever the truth, the chances were high that Dahlia Lorenheim was connected to the heretical sect. Given that Evelyn was currently one of their targets, the woman’s influence must have been considerable.  

Perhaps she had already realized that Evelyn was no longer the same ‘Evelyn’ from the original story.

Her eyes, rimmed with red, stung as she dragged both hands down her face and released a long, heavy sigh.

“First, I need to investigate further.”

And she absolutely must not let anyone else find out about this matter.

︵‿୨ ₊‧꒰ა ཐི༏ཋྀ ໒꒱ ˚₊ ୧‿︵

“—That’s all the information I’ve gathered so far.”

Evelyn briefly explained to the guildmaster what she had seen and heard in Rowendel. She mentioned that the possibility that the Moon Goddess might have been a real person, and the apprentice priestess she met there had been reluctant to speak about it.

Naturally, she omitted all mention of Dahlia Lorenheim. It was far too soon to voice suspicions built only on conjecture. Besides, explaining the full scope of her doubts would mean revealing that this world existed within the pages of a novel.

‘If I do that, I’ll just come across as strange.’

It would be a miracle if she weren’t treated as a madwoman instead.  

Evelyn gave a faint, rueful sigh. She had no desire to ruin the hard-won trust she’d earned. Building trust was difficult, but destroying it could happen in an instant. 

The guildmaster, who had listened in silence until then, stroked his chin thoughtfully before speaking in a cautious tone.

“Hm. This doesn’t sound like an ordinary matter.”

As he said, a heresy that worshipped a human instead of a god was no simple issue.

Considering that a foreign religion from another country had become distorted, it could easily escalate into a diplomatic conflict.  

“Yes, that’s why I have a request…”

“We’ll look into the Moon Goddess on our end.” 

When the guildmaster interrupted gently, already grasping her intent, Evelyn’s lips curved into a faint, relieved smile.

“Thank you, Marcen.”

A quiet ease settled over her as she lifted her teacup and took a small sip. But as she set it down, her gaze drifted to the cup resting untouched across from her.

I’ve noticed this since last time…

Marcen rarely ever drank his tea.

Despite having met him multiple times, she realized she had never once seen Marcen take so much as a sip from his cup. It was the sort of detail easy to overlook, but something about it nagged at her.

Evelyn cautiously broached the subject.  

“It seems you don’t enjoy tea, Marcen.”  

He looked momentarily surprised at her question, then gave a slow nod. His brows then drew together faintly, as if dredging up an unpleasant memory.

 “After being poisoned as a child, I’ve grown wary of tea ever since.”

“You were… poisoned?”