I Accidentally Created a Villainous Organization
Chapter 117: A Broken Heart and a Forgotten Story (1)

Chapter 117: A Broken Heart and a Forgotten Story (1)

I stood there blankly, replaying the events that had just unfolded.

That strange atmosphere.

The girl slowly closing the distance.

Her breath against my skin.

And then, in the end…

…Too much had happened.

So much that it was hard to process it all with a clear head.

“Is something wrong?”

As always, that expression of hers was unshaken. After what she’d just done, I figured she’d be at least a little flustered.

But no. She was as composed as ever.

A stark contrast to me—my face was probably red enough to rival the cheeks of Guan Yu.

“…It’s nothing,” I said.

Even though it clearly wasn’t nothing. But with her being so nonchalant, it felt awkward to make a fuss on my own.

Besides, this was the Demon Realm.

And the situation wasn’t even fully resolved yet.

Bringing up anything of that nature now felt... ill-timed.

So I had no choice but to brush it off like that.

Not that I could manage a completely unaffected face after what had just happened…

…Was it just my imagination?

I could’ve sworn Siel flashed a mischievous smile for a brief moment as she glanced at my flushed face.

I probably saw it wrong, but still…

For some reason, I had this nagging feeling—one that told me this girl, who was already impossible to read, had just become even more unpredictable.

As I held my aching forehead, trying to get a grip, Siel walked over and gently touched the barrier.

That was all it took.

The massive magical field melted away and flowed back into her shadow.

And then…

The unresolved issues began to rise to the surface.

At least an hour must’ve passed, yet the members of the Holy Church were still torturing the prince, eyes crazed.

One of the Empire’s Swordmasters—either struck fatally in battle or realizing he’d be next—was now a corpse.

But I left those things behind and moved forward.

Carl—one of the Empire’s strongest.

The First Prince and a master sorcerer once favored as the heir to the throne.

Yes, all of that was important in its own way.

But not more than the woman before me.

Of course it wasn’t.

She was the Right Hand of the Hero.

She had traveled by his side.

She was the one who knew what happened ten years ago better than anyone.

I checked Aria’s condition.

Her body was wrecked—finding a single unscathed spot would’ve been harder than listing the injuries.

…And yet, she was still breathing.

It was unbelievable.

The power this time was far beyond what I’d faced back in Balzac.

And she had taken it head-on, with no protection, and survived.

But… she wouldn’t make it.

I tried to heal her with what little divine power I had left, but—

The aura surrounding her body rejected it.

Her state was frozen at the brink of death.

A force was forcibly anchoring her life, controlling her mind—turning her into a puppet.

It allowed no interference.

‘So, I’ve failed again. No new answers about what happened ten years ago…’

Just as that thought crossed my mind—

…Our eyes met.

Despite her ruined appearance, Aria stared straight at me.

She said nothing.

Just quietly met my gaze with those blue eyes—brimming with countless emotions—and pulled something from her chest.

“Ian, this is…”

Siel, standing beside me, sent a warning.

The air around it was menacing, crawling with malicious energy.

But I shook my head to reassure her and took the object from Aria’s hand.

A broken blade.

Half of a holy sword, still stained black.

The moment it touched my hand, it exhaled a violent curse, as if it wanted to consume me whole. But curses didn’t work on me.

“What are you giving this to me for?” I asked.

Still, she said nothing. She just kept looking at me.

But it didn’t really matter.

I could already guess.

I set the blade down and placed my hand on the ground.

At that moment, the formation began to build.

With Siel’s support, the spell was completed in an instant.

The answer to everything—

Why this world ended up this way.

What had happened.

That emotion. That memory.

It was all stored within that.

There was no reason to hesitate.

I activated the spell immediately.

…it was time to face the truth.

****

What is the right choice?

That question had haunted “me” endlessly.

I saw children being exploited.

I saw children driven to their deaths.

And so, I tried to save them.

It was, by all accounts, a righteous act.

But it wasn’t the right choice.

With the power and prestige of the title “Hero,”

With the strength of my companions,

I shut down every inhumane mana stone mine across the country.

Because nothing is more important than people.

I mandated that any remaining mines operate only under strict regulations, with proper protective gear for all workers.

But the results were catastrophic.

Without sacrificing humans like expendable tools—

Without bleeding them dry—

And by using every safety measure legally required,

The cost of extracting mana stones skyrocketed.

And yet, the demand remained the same.

When the price of this resource—so deeply embedded in daily life—exploded to tens of thousands of times its original value, countless people were cast into hell.

I saved a few lives…

But far more died because of me.

I wanted to protect people—

But I ended up killing more than I saved.

There was a capable mage with high connections in the upper echelons.

With help from my comrades, I barely managed to reverse the situation.

But that question never left me.

Being a Hero meant being forced to make choices.

I killed a boy.

Because I found out… he was destined to become a vessel for Slaughter.

We were already struggling with Domination and Beastkind—

If Slaughter were born too, there would be no stopping it.

So I had no choice but to kill him.

His younger sister called me a murderer.

Even so, I killed her too—

Even as she clutched her brother’s corpse, sobbing.

Because she had made a pact with a demon.

It wasn’t something she had meant to do,

But she had tried to aid in the manifestation of a devil.

I eliminated the seed of the Demon King.

I purged the traitors of humanity who dared to forge contracts with demons.

I killed two people

To save the countless lives they would’ve taken down with them.

So I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

I didn’t want to fall into hypocrisy and doom more people to hell.

Some say human life cannot be weighed or compared.

But the lives of two… versus tens of thousands—

They’re not equal.

So I made the right decision.

A righteous choice, for a righteous cause.

And yet…

I want to throw up.

The blood on my hands disgusts me so much, that I’ve scratched at them until the skin started peeling—

And still, I can’t wash it off.

All that comes out of my mouth are bitter, resentful words.

Why did I have to do this?

Why did it have to be me making these choices?

The holy sword grew more and more clouded.

And the vow I once made—

I once vowed that even if I was still lacking—

Even if I failed again and again—

I would never give up.

But now, I felt like I could no longer keep that vow.

It felt like my heart was about to collapse at any moment.

Yet I didn’t have the freedom to give up.

If I stopped, everyone would die.

If I gave up, they would all be lost.

So giving up simply wasn’t an option.

Clinging to that thought, I forced my collapsing body to stand again and again, waging battle after relentless battle—

…Until that day came.

A mage summoned me and spoke:

He’d found a way to resolve it all.

And then he revealed it—

A golden chalice.

A Holy Grail, said to replicate the miracles of the gods.

With that, he claimed, it was possible to seal both Beastkind and Domination.

With this power, they wouldn’t have to keep doing what they’d been doing.

“But. Every miracle comes at a cost.”

The mage’s tone was quiet but firm.

He explained that the grail he held now was just a crude prototype—

A test subject, inferior and incomplete.

If they wanted one strong enough to work even on the Demon King, they needed proper materials.

In other words—

Tens of thousands of human lives would have to be sacrificed.

Humans, used as the main ingredient to create the true Holy Grail.

If it had been the me from the beginning of this journey who heard those words, I would’ve cursed the mage without hesitation.

I’d have shouted at him again and again—Are you insane?!

But the me standing there now—

I couldn’t say a single word.

“People will keep dying if we go on like this anyway… So maybe, just maybe, this path would lead to fewer deaths.”

I rationalized it that way.

Told myself it made sense.

But deep down, I knew.

That wasn’t how I truly felt.

The weight of duty was too much.

I didn’t want to keep making these awful, soul-crushing choices anymore.

No matter which one I picked, it only brought more pain.

I just wanted to run away.

The Holy Sword had lost its light entirely.

And I had finally, fully betrayed the vow I once made.

But instead of guilt—

…I felt a strange relief.

I didn’t want to think anymore.

Didn’t want to live another day killing people in order to save others—

This disgusting cycle.

So I opened my mouth and said:

“Alright. I’ll leave it to you.”

This would solve everything.

I convinced myself there was no more need to suffer.

And then…

The mage’s sword pierced my heart.

My once-black hair turned to radiant gold.

Blue, piercing eyes stared into mine.

The mage—no longer the aged man I once knew—was smiling at me.

Before me stood the Emperor of the Empire.

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