Chapter 62: He thinks he has lost his mind.
At that time, Roger drowned in a state of loss. When he thought about it... was he really standing like this, saying those trivial, useless words such as fulfilling wishes? He no longer knew what to do.
All he hoped and wished for in the depths of his heart was to scream at the top of his lungs to tell the Empress the truth; to scream warning her that her close disciples were weaving the threads of a despicable conspiracy to assassinate her, that her life was now threatened by imminent danger, and that she must flee and get out of this place immediately!
He was no longer able to endure... He wondered with an internal weep: Will he remain a coward forever? Will Roger remain that wretched person who has no value or weight?
He finally made his decision... He decided to break the barrier of fear and tell her everything. He would no longer be that coward who fears his own shadow. At the very least, perhaps with this belated courage, he could forgive himself for the heinous crime of betraying his mistress that he had previously participated in. But... wait!
A terrifying thought rushed into his mind... What if he spoke now? Yes, he would not become despicable and a traitor in his own eyes, but in return, he would become despicable in another, more twisted way; because by speaking the truth, he would prevent the fulfillment of his precious mistress’s wish, that wish promised to her by that "entity of light"... Wasn’t this intervention a blatant harm to her and a destruction of her only hope?
Roger shook his head violently, trying to dispel the dark thoughts, and convinced himself with strength and determination that he must intervene immediately, and that there was no real thing called the "legendary entity of light"... All of that was pure nonsense! Perhaps his great mistress, due to her long isolation and lethal loneliness, had imagined the existence of that entity; perhaps her mind formulated that prophecy to ease the bitterness of living for herself. Yes, definitely, his mistress was imagining things!
He took a deep breath, courage gathered in his chest, and he opened his mouth to say: "My Lady... in truth..."
But, suddenly... as if an invisible force overwhelmed his mouth, he felt something hard and harsh clamp down on his lips, completely preventing him from completing his words! It was as if his mouth had been shackled with iron cuffs, or entirely surrounded by mysterious talismans that paralyzed his movement. He felt a terrible pressure trying to block his throat and prevent him from uttering a single additional letter.
Roger began to live a true nightmare; he tried to move his mouth by all possible ways and means while standing behind the Empress. He used his mage hands, and pumped his star mana into his veins to open his mouth, but the mana dissolved and dissipated as soon as it neared his jaws, as if his entire magical power was nothing but children’s toys before this mysterious force that paralyzed his ability to speak!
Madness possessed him, so he began to use his hands violently and move his face in opposite directions with force, right and left, trying to tear open his lips, which seemed as if they had fused together since eternity, until he almost ripped his skin.
At that moment, the Empress turned slowly, looked with her distracted white eyes at the strange and distorted sight of her disciple, and asked in a cold tone carrying a hint of wonder: "Roger... are you okay?"
Roger could not reply... His mouth had been closed by a brutal and terrifying force, a force whose magical source he himself could not detect or track. He was absolutely certain that this cursed energy was impossible to have originated from one of his senior brother disciples; for it was impossible not to detect their magic, especially since their magical techniques were not of this extreme depth and supreme mystery that would leave him helpless in such a humiliating way.
"Hey... what is wrong with you? What happened to you?"
The Empress rose from her majestic seat, and began to move with steady and dignified steps toward her disciple, who appeared in a terrifying hysterical state; he was pulling his face with his hands, his nails digging into his flesh as if he wanted to completely tear his features apart. She tried to approach him to see the nature of this strange condition...
But Roger, in a swift movement, tried to retreat backward while gesturing to her with his hand in hysterical signals, asking her to stay away immediately. Fear was eating his heart that this sudden restriction might be an orchestrated ambush, a malicious thing designed specifically to distract the Empress’s attention from the real danger surrounding her.
"Come here... do not move away, you clumsy fool!" the Empress said with slight sharpness.
Then, Roger tried to do anything else; he remembered that he could still use his hands, so he tried to extend his finger to draw with magic in the air and write glowing words: [Stay away... there is a spell on my mouth...] But as soon as the letters began to form in the air, his hand dropped completely and went limp at his side, as if it had been paralyzed and its energy pathways completely severed from working!
At that moment, the Empress’s expressions turned entirely grim, and she looked at him with suspicion and anger: "Are you trying to trick me, you rascal?.. It is completely obvious that there are no magical traces or ripples in this room! Stop your strange and frustrating attempts to draw attention!"
Roger no longer knew what to do, and madness rushed into him. His mistress had clearly and decisively said that there were no magical traces of any spell in the place... He thought for a second: Is he the only one imagining things? Has he lost his mind? But no matter how hard he tried, pushed, and exerted effort, he could not open his mouth at all!
Impossible... Impossible for his brother disciples’ magic to be this powerful and cunning to the point of completely disappearing from his mistress’s eyes! This was impossible! She was stronger than all of them, and possessed the legendary "Eyes of a Thousand Souls," so how had she not yet discovered the nature of this problem?
His mind was about to explode as he fought his face with excessive force, and he did not know when this bitter torment would end so he could finally warn her.
When the Empress focused her gaze deeply on what was happening to Roger, and saw him literally tearing his face with his nails until deep wounds began to appear and bleed crimson blood onto his skin... her features changed completely. This behavior did not seem like acting or pretense in any way; the pain and panic in his eyes were real and genuine.
Signs of real worry began to show on her face, so she approached him closer, and activated the "Eyes of a Thousand Souls" in its full and maximum form to examine his body and soul, absorbing every detail. Even though she found no trace of magical spells, the state of genuine panic that covered her disciple caused her attention to be completely distracted, dedicating all her visual and magical focus to deep examination and analysis...
But... while her entire attention was focused on him in that fraction of a second...
A stab!.. A stab!.. A stab!..
The glorious and invincible body of the Empress was pierced from five different directions! Giant, terrifying arrows made of the pure and brutal element of ice shattered the massive panoramic window of the hall, breaking the glass into millions of scattered shards, to settle harshly into the body of the Empress, whose defense was lowered and whose attention was distracted because of Roger.
The Empress spat out torrential blood from her mouth, and looked with shocked and shattered glances at Roger, who fell to the ground kneeling on his knees, his eyes wide from the horror of the shock.
Roger wanted to scream... he wanted to offer help... he wished he could clarify to her, even by gesturing, that he was innocent of her blood and had not deceived her... but, it seemed that time was too late, far too late...
At that moment, the main door of the hall was thrown wide open, and her eleven other disciples appeared, stepping inside with triumphant and malicious smiles.
Her yellow-haired disciple, who had a hostile face and provocative features, spoke with a mocking laugh: "Hahaha... Roger! I cannot believe your acting was this brilliant and perfected, man! I almost believed you myself!"
Then he turned to the rest, saying maliciously: "Guys, we must absolutely increase his share of the Empire’s profits from now on. He did a truly wonderful job and made that old woman completely distract her defense!"
Roger wanted to scream, denying their despicable accusation... he wanted to move away from them, to tell his dying mistress that he was not with them... but he was dragged harshly to stand among their ranks, and they began to pat him on his shoulder with overwhelming joy and pride, considering him the hero of the plan.
He was no longer able to think, and his mind was completely paralyzed, unable to comprehend why all this nightmare was happening.
He raised his eyes slowly to look at the Empress... Her eyes were looking at all of them, but she focused her final gaze on Roger specifically... a sharp gaze, mixed with disappointment and death, a gaze that dug deep and was immortalized in the depths of his soul like a cursed seal that would haunt him with nightmares as long as he lived, day and night.
Gloating laughter echoed in the hall, and one of them repeated the ill-fated words: "Hahaha... your time is up, you tyrant. The throne you spent your entire life protecting will never belong to you again."
Another continued with a greedy voice: "Come on, tyrant... hand over the forbidden star techniques book without resistance!"
But the Empress, whose eyes refused to break or fall, finally closed her eyelids... and her body fell lifeless.
In those seconds, Roger was on the verge of complete psychological collapse. Kneeling on his knees on the cold floor, he looked at this bloody scene... and in the end, he suddenly felt the invisible restrictions vanish, and he was finally able to open his mouth, which dropped gradually.
He didn’t know... he truly didn’t know...
He was looking down in bewilderment...
But he heard something strange...
"I am sorry... I am sorry... I had no other choice, my master... I had no other choice... You can be happy in your next life..."
Roger froze in his place... Wait... what is this voice?! The echo of the exact same words resonated through the room again: "I am sorry... I am sorry..."
Roger turned around in immense panic throughout the hall, trying to search for the source of the ancient voice until he almost went mad. He wasn’t the one who uttered those final words! So, why did this hidden voice resemble his own voice to such an identical extent? And why couldn’t he see its owner?
Had he truly lost his mind? Or were there forces tampering with him and with fate itself? Roger understood nothing, and these ambiguous voices at that moment were not open to any explanation other than being the embodiment of madness... perhaps a madness that would pursue him until death.