I Accidentally Created a Villainous Organization
Chapter 118: A Broken Heart and a Forgotten Story (2)

Chapter 118: A Broken Heart and a Forgotten Story (2)

Blood spilled in uncontrollable gushes.

The pain coursed straight through my heart, pierced by a blade.

Yet instead of a scream, a question escaped my lips.

“…Since when?”

I thought he was a trusted comrade.

We had saved each other’s lives from the brink of death.

And now I learn—it was all an act.

I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.

“How foolish. The very fact that you’re asking shows just how hopelessly naive you still are. After everything you’ve been through, you haven’t grown at all.”

All I got in return was mockery.

But I understood exactly what he meant.

“When I resolved the mana stone incident, you should’ve thanked me? No, you should’ve doubted me.”

From the very beginning of our journey—

“When I told you that boy was the vessel, you should’ve asked how I came to know that.”

Every experience, every trial we endured—

“And more than anything, you should’ve questioned the Holy Grail. You really believe something crafted from the lives of people could bring about a sacred miracle?”

It was all part of a well-crafted performance, from the beginning to this very moment.

The old man’s lips curled into a twisted grin.

He was laughing at me.

But I had no words to give back.

Not a single accusation, not even a “how could you.”

This is all my fault.

Even if I hadn’t wanted it, the truth is—I had a duty.

The future of countless lives rested on my shoulders.

But I ran.

Over and over, I ran away.

I relied on a kind, thoughtful companion and gave up on thinking for myself.

I erased the painful memories just to escape reality.

I wanted to let go of the burden, even if just in my mind.

And this is where it led me.

This was the end result of my cowardice.

This was the outcome of the vow I broke—the vow never to break.

But…

I clenched my teeth.

I had run so far, for so long, just to arrive at this point.

I knew it was already too late.

I knew my stupidity had ruined everything.

But that was precisely why—I could not run anymore.

Not now.

Not in this moment.

That vow I once made, the one not to break—

It didn’t mean I would overcome every trial and always emerge victorious.

No—it meant the opposite.

I knew I was nothing special.

I knew I would suffer crushing defeats and fall again and again.

But even so—

My heart would never be broken.

No matter how painful it was, no matter how badly I wanted to run,

I would rise again.

That was the will I swore upon the holy sword.

And so—

With trembling hands, I grabbed the sacred blade.

Its light was faint—little more than dying embers.

But still, I poured my resolve into it.

A faint glow flickered back into the holy sword.

Without a second thought, I kicked off the ground and charged forward.

I needed help.

The sword’s power was trying to heal the wound somehow,

But whatever curse had been imbued into the blade,

My body was rejecting the divine energy itself.

I started to head toward a priest—then stopped.

I refused to repeat the same mistake again.

That priest often spoke with that mage.

And the Holy Grail—

It did radiate divine energy.

If what that man said was true, and the Grail was twisted by some dark force,

Then the divine energy was still divine—

But it didn’t mean I could trust it.

Caution wouldn’t hurt.

Which meant the person I had to go to now was…

Aria.

She was the only one I could turn to.

A childhood friend who had always been by my side.

A companion who supported me through every storm.

Now, she was probably with her daughter, Yuli.

By fate or chance, Yuli had been chosen as the Saintess.

And since Aria also possessed talent in magic, perhaps she could do something about this wound.

I rushed toward where they were staying.

Startled by the sound of my footsteps, Aria quickly stood up, having been watching over a sleeping Yuli.

“Ian? What on earth—?”

“There’s no time to explain. Wake Yuli. We have to get out of here, now.”

I forced myself to bear the pain, trying not to let it show, so she wouldn’t worry.

But then, Aria said—

“…Ah. So this wretched farce is finally coming to an end.”

She grabbed the sword still lodged in my heart—and twisted it.

I screamed.

Blood surged from my mouth.

And yet, Aria simply stared at me with a cold, emotionless face.

“Why…? Why would you…?”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I asked her.

But the answer didn’t come from her.

A priest approached.

A companion who had shared our journey—now revealing his true face.

A man I had only seen in photographs before…

The Pope of the Holy Church stood before me.

“You had already begun to suspect, hadn’t you? That this whole journey was nothing more than a performance—staged by us from the start.”

I already knew what he was going to say next.

“If that’s the case… how can you be so sure your life wasn’t just a play as well?”

…I couldn’t.

Even I knew I couldn’t say that with certainty.

But even so—I wanted to believe.

The love of my mother and father.

The burning village and their dying words.

The girl who used to argue with me as a child, who one day grew strong enough to support me.

The tiny baby who had become my reason to live.

Those… those couldn’t have been lies.

They couldn’t have been.

And yet… everything around me was screaming the opposite.

That everything was a lie.

That my life—was just someone else’s stage.

Footsteps echoed in the distance.

Hair that shone with golden light.

The Emperor of the Empire appeared before me, eyes locked on mine.

I asked him one final question.

Why… why do this to me?

“Why? Oh, there are so many reasons,” he said.

With just me, he could shackle the god I was linked to.

And once that god was bound, nothing could stand in his way.

He said beasts like that wolf would plunge the world into chaos, so it was better to discard them once used.

But domination? Domination was negotiable.

If that creature gained power, humanity would lose its freedom.

But wasn’t that… something he’d welcome?

Besides, he’d been given a fascinating offer.

By getting rid of me, he could become one with Dominion itself.

“Well then,” he added with a smirk,

“In the end, you weren’t the hero of this story. Just another pawn on the board.”

I looked around.

At the ones I had once called my companions.

Every single one of them had used me. Lied to me.

That golden-haired old man.

That silver-haired man.

Even… Aria.

Everything I thought I knew—collapsed.

Everything I believed in… was false.

Just a play, crafted by someone’s hands.

And I?

I was nothing but a puppet, dancing in ignorance, writhing in pain, struggling in vain.

A marionette bound by strings.

Was there ever anything real in my life?

I didn’t know.

I no longer knew anything.

But one thing was clear—

I had been wrong.

I should have doubted.

I should never have trusted anyone.

Not even the lover I’d sworn to spend my life with—because she, too, was just playing a part.

The only person one can trust in this world—is oneself.

If I truly wanted to succeed…

If I truly wanted to save the world…

Then I should have stepped on anyone who stood in the way, used them if needed, and kept moving forward.

Had I done that—

Perhaps everything would have turned out right.

But now… it was far too late for regret.

My eyes began to close.

My mind was spinning.

Drowsiness crept in like a tide.

The holy sword, now darkened black.

The people laughing as they looked down at me.

And with that—

The final flicker of ‘me’ faded into darkness.

*****

But… my true consciousness hadn’t vanished.

Though the former hero had died, the mind within him—mine, that of a transmigrator from the modern world—remained adrift.

The hero was gone. That much was certain.

So then, what could possibly be left for me to witness?

That’s when I heard it.

“Your personality hasn’t changed a bit.”

The golden-haired old man—the Emperor of the Empire—stood before the hero’s corpse and spoke calmly.

“So it was really that obvious? How embarrassing.”

The white-haired man replied, but…

His words and expression didn’t match in the slightest.

A smile completely devoid of emotion, endlessly hollow.

So empty, in fact, it made me wonder—Is he even human anymore?

“Well, I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a bit of personal sentiment involved.

But come on—wasn’t he the one chosen by that so-called glorious god?”

He said Ian bore more blame than himself—the Pope—because he had been chosen by the god, yet still failed to realize the truth.

Unlike him, whose actions had merely been a “vile prank.”

That phrase again—“glorious god.”

But when he said it, it dripped with bitterness.

Hatred.

And from that hatred, I could feel it.

He had lost a child.

In the previous life, he had claimed not to care.

He had spoken with soft compassion, saying that the God of Light would surely care for the child.

But clearly, that had been a lie.

It wasn’t just the Emperor—even this man was planning something dark and twisted.

So I focused, refusing to miss a single word.

And then… I heard someone calling out Ian’s name.

Not me—the transmigrator.

But the real Ian, the black-haired hero.

Which didn’t make sense.

Everyone from the hero’s party was already here.

So who could possibly be calling out to him, now?

But the voice continued, desperate and breathless.

And not long after—

Bang!

The door slammed open.

And through it came…

Aria, panting hard as she ran.

Not the fake Aria—the one who had sneered while betraying her husband and twisted the sword in his chest.

But the real one.

The one who rushed in, knelt by her husband’s lifeless body, and wept with trembling hands.

The white-haired man looked at her, then smiled…

And snapped his fingers.

With that, the false Aria’s image shattered into glimmering light and vanished.

…And that’s when I finally understood.

What the Pope had meant…

by “a vile prank.”

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