I'm a Villainess, Can I Die?-Chapter 110

I had, for a little while, some time to myself. Time alone is crucial for people.

It allows you to look at your situation objectively and sort out the chaos in your head. Nothing beats it for that.

As I walked, I glanced over my shoulder. Aiden was nowhere to be seen.

I was truly alone. Looked like he really wasn’t following me. Aiden wasn’t the type to tail someone in secret anyway.

Left by myself, I once again recalled Bell’s silhouette. A faceless girl, walking ahead of me with her hands behind her back.

An innocent victim had emerged from this estate. No—only one had been discovered, but there could be more.

Who was that creature in human skin, really? Where had I left off the last time I thought this through? Right—I'd gotten as far as concluding that the person had some connection to me.

One step, two steps. With each footfall, the faces of people who had crossed my path flashed through my mind.

Mia. The Madame. The gatekeeper. The High Priest. Nobles I’d spoken to at the party. Jacob. Ah, and that peacock of a noble too. But if I counted every person I’d merely brushed past as a suspect, that list got too long.

Too many. I was sure I’d been living quietly, but apparently not enough. If I’d known it would come to this, I would've barricaded myself in my room and never come out.

I needed another filter. Something to narrow this massive list of suspects.

“Black magic.”

Right—whoever was behind this used black magic. When I thought about that, Sir Allogen’s voice brushed against my ears, as if whispering the very explanation again.

“The price is your life.”

Black magic was serious business—its costs, ingredients, and side effects were all devastating.

“Life.”

Wait. Life? I stopped in my tracks. The moment my steps halted, the faces floating in my head popped and vanished like soap bubbles.

What if... what if in the original story, the black magic failed and caused side effects?

What if, in the original, the side effects killed them, so they never even made an appearance... but in this version, they were alive because of me?

Or maybe they were someone doomed to die within three years due to the magic’s effects.

If it was the first case, then they were only able to act because I’d somehow kept them alive. And if it was the latter... they’d originally planned to act three years from now, after my death, but died from the side effects before they could—whereas in this timeline, my presence forced them to move earlier.

So now, they were trying to get everything done before their death.

No, maybe this was a stretch. But so what if it was? I needed to examine every possibility I could uncover.

A faint light seemed to flicker inside my mind, only making me more impatient. I couldn’t see the truth, but I felt something vague beginning to take shape.

Even though there was no one in front of me, I imagined the black-haired maid waving at me—telling me to keep thinking.

And then my body lurched violently. As ridiculous as it was, I’d tripped over my own foot.

I’d been so wrapped up in my thoughts, I hadn’t been watching where I was going at all.

“Ah—uh...”

I flailed my arms in a useless attempt to catch myself, but I still collapsed forward in the most pathetic way.

Thankfully, I caught myself with my hands, but my knees had already slammed into the ground.

I lay facedown on the grass, turning my head slightly to look around.

Did anyone see that disaster? Looked like no one had. Aiden hadn’t caught up yet either. Phew.

I slowly ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ pushed myself up. My knee throbbed—probably bruised.

Looks like my poor knees won’t catch a break.

I staggered to my feet. Ow. That hurt. A faint patch of blood had soaked through my dress near the knee.

Oh great. I’m bleeding now too. Lovely.

Tsk. I clicked my tongue and started limping forward. I wasn’t sure if I was limping because of actual pain or just being dramatic after seeing blood.

I kept walking for a bit, but of course, there wasn’t a single bench nearby.

I looked around for somewhere to sit and ended up staring at the ring on my finger.

This ring... is it single-use or reusable?

I flexed my fingers over it a few times, debating whether to use it, but eventually shook my head.

If it’s single-use, that’d be such a waste. A high-ranking mage from the Mage Tower gave it to me, and I’m going to use it because I tripped and scraped my knee?

Absolutely not.

With no other option, I just sat down on the ground. Aiden would probably show up soon anyway.

Who cared what it looked like?

As long as no one saw me fall flat on my face, sitting on the grass was no big deal.

This was basically my home. Who’s going to scold me for sitting in my own yard?

Right as I finished that thought, I heard footsteps approaching.

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Aiden? I wondered for a second, but the sound was coming from ahead, not behind.

“Lady Selina?”

It was Ian.

Dressed in his crisp white priest robes, he looked down at me like he’d stumbled upon a traveling circus act sprawled out on the road.

I held up my hand, trying to show I was still in one piece. Judging by his stiffening expression, that backfired.

“Why are you... sitting on the ground?”

Would he believe me if I said it was a hobby?

Tripping like an idiot was bad enough, but now I was thinking like an idiot too. At least I didn’t say it out loud.

“I tripped and hurt my knee a bit. I was waiting for someone to pass by... and here you are. Would you mind giving me a hand?”

At my words, Ian looked startled and quickly examined my face. Then he crouched in front of me and glanced down at my right knee, where blood had seeped through my dress.

“Oh no... are you alright?”

He asked with such seriousness that I lifted my skirt to check the damage myself.

“Mm... nope. Definitely not fine.”

It was more scraped up than I’d expected.

Blood was smeared all over the place. Ugh. It was one of those injuries that make people keel over just from looking at it.

The garden was entirely covered in soft grass. Normally, you wouldn’t get hurt badly even if you fell.

But in my case, things were different.

I hadn’t fallen on the grassy path. I’d fallen right on the border where the path met the flowerbed—right on the stones.

Of all places.

Ian’s brow twitched slightly. Then he looked up at me and spoke with that ever-serious tone of his.

“May I treat it for you?”

“That would be appreciated.”

He gave a small nod, then pushed back the wide sleeves of his robe like someone getting ready to work.

And just then, I happened to catch sight of the mark inside his arm—like the ones priests often bore, almost like a tattoo.

Ah... this feels just like the day I met Ian for the first time.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

The day I smashed that peacock noble’s staff with my knee in the plaza—and paid the price with a literal firework show from my leg.

My memory started playing that day back with vivid clarity.

Honestly, I’d replayed that encounter countless times, trying to figure out what had changed the story.

But there’s a difference between remembering something on purpose and remembering it by chance.

When you remember something by chance, it pulls even forgotten things up to the surface—things like someone’s expression in that moment, or a fleeting thought you had.

The first time I met Ian, I was thinking about a profession I’d never heard of before.

I’d tried to recall if the words “temple” or “priest” had ever come up in the novel. And eventually, I remembered it had—just once, in passing.

“A passing mention.”

The words slipped from my lips. Ian looked up at me, meeting my gaze.

Our eyes met squarely in the middle.

...There was one.

Someone who fit this absurd deduction all too perfectly.

Someone who never met Selina in the original story. Someone who only appeared in a passing reference. Someone whose fate had been twisted because of me—and someone doomed to die within two years.

“The High Priest...”

“Pardon?”

Ian tilted his head at my mumbling. I stared blankly into his eyes, then shook my head.

I remembered thinking, that day I met Ian for the first time, how unfamiliar the title “priest” had felt.

Only the High Priest or some senior clergyman was ever even mentioned in passing. And even then, it was only when the High Priest died, as part of a funeral.

It had been such a fleeting detail that I hadn’t remembered it until now.

Right. The High Priest was mentioned only as someone who had already died.

That meant he was either supposed to die soon—or should’ve already been dead.

Think. When was the High Priest supposed to die? When?

The ones who mentioned his death were my brother and the heroine, Ariel. So it must’ve been when they were a couple.

They broke up in the winter of next year—

Which is also when I turn twenty. So around February.

Meaning, the High Priest should already be dead, or at the latest, will die within the next four months.

I’d spent almost two months grinding my brain on this.

Trying to figure out what went wrong—what twist caused the monster incident.

I obsessed day and night over it.

Ever since I learned there was a mastermind and that he used black magic, I’d even been thinking about it during meals.

And now, as soon as I settled on one person, the chaos in my mind began to fall into place.

Let’s assume the High Priest is the mastermind.

Black magic, if it fails, takes your life. He must’ve failed at it in the original. That’s why he barely appeared in the story at all.

So what spell had he failed to cast?

“Allogen said the mastermind probably used this magic to extract power from mages and condense it into beads using their own mana.”

The spell he identified was called Sacrifice. I’d read the section on it until I was sick of it during the meetings. And if I remembered correctly, one of the consequences of failure was death.

Well, most black magic did have that price.

Anyway, if the High Priest had failed to cast Sacrifice and died in the original, then he must’ve already been preparing something around this time.

To steal power meant he needed power.

Then why, in this reality, had he rushed his plans? Instead of gathering more strength?

“Are you alright?”

Ian asked. I nodded absently, but my thoughts had already returned to him.