WeTried Translations

Translator: Joy

Editor: Joy

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Damned Transmigration

Chapter 36

──────

Questions

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sound was too immense, too seismic to be mere footsteps. It was the tread of a dragon, a vibration that shook the detached palace to its very foundations.

“She’s furious.”

The man clad in a crimson robe spoke without turning.

He had few wrinkles, but his eyes held the stillness of a bottomless abyss, erasing any impression of youth. He sat as if in his own chamber, a wine cup resting loosely in his hand. As the vibrations intensified, not a ripple disturbed the surface of the wine within.

“Still has that fiery temper, I see.”

The man brought the cup to his lips. Opposite him, the Grand Bishop of the Sect of Order, the man who now led the faith while its Goddess slept, said nothing, his own lips pressed into a thin line.

“A needless question, it seems,” the man in crimson murmured, setting down his empty cup.

He shifted his gaze. Beside him, a figure in an identical robe knelt, swaying with each tremor, unable to withstand the pressure.

The man clicked his tongue.

“My cup is empty.”

A trembling wine bottle was lifted. The wine that poured from it shivered, but none was spilt. The man looked down at the precariously filled cup and nodded.

“Will you have a glass?” he offered the Grand Bishop.

THUD!

The palace shook violently. The man chuckled and turned his head. Framed in the wide-open window, a woman in white clerical robes stood poised on the sill.

“Should I have come through the door?” Lorelia asked, her gaze fixed on the Grand Bishop.

He let out a short, weary sigh.

“I do not believe that requires an answer.”

“As expected, you are truly wise. This Lorelia has already entered through the window. And a window,” she declared, her voice unnervingly cheerful, “is merely a type of door!”

Her voice was bright, but her face was a mask of cold fury. A blood-red light spilled from her eyes as they left the Grand Bishop and settled on the man in crimson.

“Old man.”

Her lips twisted into a sneer.

“Have you come looking for a gravesite?”

“I heard you were imprisoned. You must’ve been quite comfortable.”

The Heavenly Demon chuckled, bringing the wine cup back to his lips.

“I did not come here to fight, so dismiss your killing intent. It ruins the taste of the wine.”

“If you love wine so much, drink it in your own damned room.”

Lorelia spat the words and leapt down from the windowsill. She strode past him and dropped into a seat beside the Grand Bishop.

“How did you find this place?”

“This one can go wherever he wishes.”

At the smiling reply, Lorelia’s eyes flared.

For twenty years they had been in seclusion, their existence dependent on a network of faithful followers sending supplies from the outside world.

“Which rat,” she hissed, “sold out the home of his brothers and sisters?”

“Am I obliged to answer?”

“If you do not, then this Lorelia will have no choice but to fulfil her duty as the sect’s violence!”

“You intend to get the answer from me directly? Your martial skill is insufficient for that.”

The Heavenly Demon set down his wine cup.

“You have progressed since last we met, but you are not yet at a level where you can kill me. You know that as well.”

“What about mutual destruction?”

“Worth a try. But you would fail.”

“Even so, if I die after tearing off your arm, it would hardly be a dog’s death, would it?”

“My arm for your life? The scales do not seem balanced. But if you truly wish it, by all means, try.”

The Heavenly Demon’s faint smile never wavered.

The blood-red fire in Lorelia’s eyes could not penetrate the abyss in his. An immense killing intent, a pressure that felt as if it could incinerate the world, congealed around him.

“Hmm.”

He tilted his head, stroking his chin.

“The accomplishment in your divine art is magnificent. But you have not yet cast off your worldly attachments.”

“Nonsense.”

“I did not come here to fight. I merely wished to see an old face.”

“This Lorelia has no intention of conversing with you.”

“A pity.”

As her killing intent continued to swell, the Grand Bishop, who had been sitting with his eyes closed, let out a long sigh.

“It was me.”

The declaration hung in the air. Lorelia, startled, whipped her head around.

“I contacted the Heavenly Demon Cult myself,” he continued, his eyes still shut.

“I requested their aid.”

“Grand Bishop? I do not understand!”

His eyes opened. They were old and tired, but firm.

“Several sects, led by the War Sect, are searching for us. Heretics who worship the evil god are looking for us. The sanctuary’s barrier has hidden us until now, but we need to prepare.”

Lorelia glared, her killing intent still a suffocating presence, but the Grand Bishop did not flinch.

“Is it not a practical compromise?” the Heavenly Demon chuckled, picking up his cup again.

“This Lorelia cannot accept it,” she spat, her glare returning to the Grand Bishop.

“You know what they are! Leaders who kill for sport! Lechers who covet the essence of children! Cannibals! Their very existence is an evil that brings chaos! For us, who protect order, to be protected by them, it is a contradiction!”

“Lorelia.”

The Grand Bishop sighed again.

“Who do you believe is the closest to God Slaying at this moment? It is not the Sword Emperor. It is not you, nor the Saint of War. Not Polar Point, not Hyunya, not Heavenly Thunder, not the Dharma King.”

His gaze shifted to the man in crimson.

“It is the Heavenly Demon.”

Lorelia’s eyes fell shut.

“The Goddess wished for the death of the evil god. For that, she fell into her long slumber. For that, the Sect of Order has fallen. I do not resent her. But I will not leave my brothers and sisters, who keep the faith, to be condemned and slaughtered.”

“This Lorelia will stop them.”

“It is difficult for one hand to block ten.”

“If it becomes known that we are under their protection, the world will laugh at us.”

“If the evil god is slain and the Goddess awakens, I will stand on the War Sect’s gallows myself,” the Grand Bishop said, his voice calm and final.

“My neck may not be enough, but it will serve as a symbol of our responsibility.”

“I intend to build a training ground,” the Heavenly Demon spoke up, setting down his cup.

“The mountains nearby seem suitable. If I put the young ones who wish to become the future of my cult into those mountains… a dragon might be born among them.”

A Demonic Cult training ground. A buffer zone. Their enemies would not dare approach.

“A dragon?” Lorelia’s lips twisted.

“A Gu ritual, you mean.”

The Heavenly Demon smiled quietly.

“What did you demand as the price for your aid?” she snarled.

“I ask for nothing from the sect,” he replied.

“As for my own wish… I hear that if a transmigrator kills the evil god, the Goddess of Order grants one. Perhaps in the distant future, I will desire something that even my power cannot achieve. It is good to leave the possibility open.”

His meaning was clear. He wanted nothing now, but he would collect his debt later.

Lorelia’s gaze shifted to the kneeling figure beside him.

“Is that your disciple?”

The figure appeared to be a woman, her face hidden behind a pure white mask.

“There are rumours you are a transmigrator. Is that why your face is covered?”

“She may not be a transmigrator,” the Heavenly Demon said smoothly.

“She wears a mask because of a hideous burn on her face.”

“My name is Bi-yeon,” the voice from behind the mask was a terrible, hoarse rasp.

“I hear,” Lorelia continued, ignoring her, “that transmigrators who join your cult capture others of their kind and consume them as elixirs. Did you feed such things to your disciple?”

“I believe I said she may not be a transmigrator. If you wish for an answer, tell me an interesting story of your own. What crime did you commit to be locked away?”

It was a question she could not answer.

She gave a fresh, sharp smile. The Heavenly Demon laughed, then rose to his feet.

“It seems there is no need for further conversation. Shall we be on our way?”

Bi-yeon rose with him.

“I wanted to see you,” the Heavenly Demon said, looking down at Lorelia.

“To see how much stronger you had become. Your accomplishment in your divine art is magnificent. But you have not cast off your worldly attachments. Am I wrong?”

“Nonsense.”

“Lorelia. For the sake of our old bond, I will offer you some advice.”

His abyssal eyes curved into a smile.

“Faith is of no help when challenging for divinity.”

Crackle.

He drew a finger through the air, and space itself tore open, forming a black doorway.

“Awaken from your attachments. Cast it all aside. This is a word of advice from an old senior brother to his young junior sister.”

“You seem to have grown old,” Lorelia’s eyes glinted, “to be spouting such pathetic advice. Is it truly time for you to die?”

“Who could possibly kill me?”

The Heavenly Demon chuckled and stepped through the door. Bi-yeon followed, and the tear in reality sealed itself shut.

Lorelia stared at the spot where he had stood.

“This humble priestess has no choice but to follow the Grand Bishop’s decision,” she said, rising.

“Therefore, I will say no more. Instead, if the day comes when you ascend the gallows, Grand Bishop, I will be sure to shed a tear of pity for you.”

“Such wicked words.”

“It was you who made me wicked.”

She strode to the window and placed a foot on the sill.

“Will you be returning to the Punishment Wing?” the Grand Bishop asked.

“It is true that this Lorelia has sinned. I may not have your courage, but I will repent while staring at a wall.”

“Does he— no,” the Grand Bishop’s voice stopped her, “do you believe he can kill the evil god?”

“You are aware, Grand Bishop, that I cannot speak of such matters.”

“I am asking what is in your heart.”

Lorelia smiled.

“I merely follow the divine command.”

Join our discord at: https://dsc.gg/wetried