I Possessed The Immoral Empress

Countess Brienta’s house was cozier than expected. It was far from the dazzling splendor Valliere liked, but it was a perfect place to escape prying eyes.

Located slightly off the center of the capital, it was a place where attention was not easily drawn, and there was no need to listen to the passing carriages.

Valliere sat in one of the quiet rooms of the mansion, nervously biting her nails. Though it was already broad daylight outside, the thick curtains blocked the light, and she crouched in a corner of the dark room, her hazy brown eyes staring vacantly into space as if something had snapped inside her.

Her muddy, light brown eyes were not reflecting the dim interior but still saw the small sparks that dotted the dark night sky.

“Again?”

“Yes.”

At the Countess Brienta’s words, a maid looked down at the untouched bowl of soup with a gloomy face. After the maid left with Valliere’s lunch, Countess Brienta approached Valliere with a kind and gentle smile.

She looked at Valliere, who had burned everything inside her to ashes, and smiled with satisfaction. Valliere’s emotions had reached a lull after burning everything away, but the embers still smoldered.

Countess Brienta intended to throw dry twigs onto those hungry embers.

“A war has broken out with Frianton.”

“…”

“All the mages in the Empire have been conscripted to the battlefield without exception.”

“…”

“Her Majesty the Empress has just departed as well.”

At the mention of Her Majesty the Empress, Valliere’s dull eyes finally shifted towards Countess Brienta.

“It is said that she is leading all the mages who have not yet departed to the battlefield. There is much talk among the people about how Her Majesty is setting an example. It’s amazing how public opinion can change so quickly…”

Of course, the people in the capital, who were still unaware of the war breaking out at the border, couldn’t have formed such an opinion.

“The Emperor has also stated that he will personally commend the Empress for her achievements if she returns victorious from the battlefield. How quickly they forget the times they called her a witch…”

Countess Brienta deliberately trailed off, watching Valliere closely, hoping she would take the bait.

Valliere hated Henry and Ermedeline. She despised Leopold, who constantly betrayed her expectations, and the nobles and commoners who judged her without knowing anything. It felt absurd that these ignorant beings, unaware that this foolish world was just a fictional space, dared to judge her, the protagonist of this story.

‘This place exists for me. I should be the one enjoying everything, so what is this?’

She had parted ways with the male lead, the antagonist was thriving, and she had nothing left. She no longer had any pride, and now she didn’t even have a thin wall or roof to shield her from the arrows of criticism raining down on her.

“This makes no sense! In what novel does the heroine end up like this? This place is absurd! And now there’s a war? A war to make Ermedeline look even better?”

As Valliere pondered the absurdity of this place, a realization dawned on her.

“A war? Setting aside that Henry and I broke up, how can a war suddenly break out? Was there such a plot in the original story?”

Although she hadn’t read the original novel thoroughly from the middle onwards, she was certain there was no mention of Ermedeline going to the battlefield. In the final chapter she skimmed to keep up with conversations with her friends, the villain Ermedeline had been executed by burning for causing a plague in the capital, not for anything related to war.

“Does the story change this much? If Ermedeline really wins because of this war, does she become the protagonist?”

At that moment, a desperate truth spilled out of Valliere’s mouth.

“We mustn’t win the war.”

And Countess Brienta did not miss that moment.

“A witch should meet a witch’s end, not become a war hero.”

“A war hero? Ha!”

Ermedeline’s execution was horrific. But because she had been depicted so wickedly in the original novel, no one in the crowd had even furrowed their brows as her skin melted and sloughed off. Everyone watched the moment of justice triumphing over evil with faces full of delight.

And now, that woman was to be a war hero?

While Valliere was holed up in this shabby mansion in her current state, the villain dared to become a war hero?

If they won the war thanks to Ermedeline, she would push Valliere aside and become the protagonist of this story. This foolish world could disappear entirely, but that must not happen.

“I hope everything gets ruined. The war, everything—everyone should just die!”

Crouching with her arms around her knees, Valliere chanted a spell with her dull eyes staring straight ahead. Seeing this, Countess Brienta’s face was filled with an indescribable sense of elation.

“Exactly. None of them deserve to exist.”

Countess Brienta did not care who won the war or who took the throne. Her sole purpose was to carry out her duties correctly.

The magic running through her veins, though not from the main line, was her pride. Yet her conservative father had forced her into the life of an ordinary noble lady rather than a mage. He had suppressed her instincts, claiming curse magic was nothing but a harbinger of misfortune.

Although she did not possess the Merciful Eyes, she had a power comparable to Ermond, a direct descendant of the main line. Eventually, she had to live under the title of Countess Brienta, hiding her identity as a mage.

To her, it didn’t matter what kind of person Duke Francoise or Lord Ermond were. When Ermond, the heir of the main family, acknowledged the ominous power within her as a sign of great lineage, she had nothing more to wish for.

She was willing to do anything to have her worth recognized as a mage.

“Fire, how about a fire? They did that to me, so they should reap what they sow!”

Countess Brienta tightly held Valliere’s hand and looked into her eyes. Once filled with compassion and hope, her eyes now held nothing but endless despair and fury. Inside her, the crimson flames of hatred had already consumed the entire capital, with dark ashes swirling in the red sky.

“How about magic?”

“Magic?”

“Yes, curse magic. A curse that looks like it came from the witch.”

Valliere’s eyes began to flicker with interest. Destroying the capital with a curse would be ideal, but how could she, not being a mage, accomplish such a feat?

“But I’m not a mage…”

“True. But not all the people killed by the witch’s curse were directly killed by her. The witch merely provided the magic-infused talisman; it was the caster’s hatred and anger that completed the spell.”

“Huh?”

Countess Brienta let down her long, graying hair. Once a deep black, her hair and ash-gray eyes gave her a mysterious aura.

“I am also a mage.”

“What?”

“Though I was not born in the main family and never had the chance to live as a mage, the Francoise Duchy’s magic flows through me.”

“!!”

“Ermedeline became a grand mage and empress because she was born in the main family, but I could not live that way. My father ignored me, forcing me to marry a man I did not love because I was born with ominous powers.”

Although the hardships Countess Brienta faced were not as severe as the abuse Ermedeline endured, everything is relative. She had no idea about the pain Ermedeline, born in the main family, had to endure.

“Join me. I will help you. With the anger and hatred within you, we can destroy everything here!”

Memories of the things Valliere experienced after being possessed flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern. The loss of her child and Henry’s coldness, the disdain from the commoners who saw her as a murderer, and the palace servants who treated her like a witch just because two maids died from a plague she didn’t cause. 

No one showed a sympathetic face in front of her burning mansion. The nobles sneered, the commoners smiled with satisfaction, and no one in this world pitied her.

This world makes no sense. It was supposed to be a world created for her, the heroine, but it wasn’t fulfilling its role. Such a world might as well not exist. A story that treats the heroine worse than the villain deserves to disappear.

“Will my anger and hatred suffice?”

With a layer seemingly peeled away, Valliere’s eyes shone with a clear brown light once more. Seeing Valliere ask with such determination, Countess Brienta nodded with a satisfied expression.

“More than enough.”

***

A long line of carriages was leaving the capital. Mages and the knights escorting them were moving towards the border.

Due to safety reasons, the magic circle in the imperial palace could only transport a maximum of three people at a time, so the mages were divided into three groups, each traveling to territories with larger magic circles to regroup at the border.

The group that included Ermedeline was comprised of the strongest mages and knights from the rear guard. Although the official reason was to protect the Empress, everyone knew they were there to monitor the actions of Ermedeline, who was a witch and now possibly a traitor.

Given that most mages were nobles due to the hereditary nature of magic, many in the group departing from the capital were entangled in the civil war between the legitimate and illegitimate children. In fact, it was rare to find anyone not involved.

Because of this, Felio and Arvian remained constantly on alert, even within the carriage. For Ermedeline, personal grudges from her own side were more dangerous than the enemy soldiers they would face at the border.

In this procession filled with dark, crimson hatred, Arvian’s abilities were of little use. It was easier to find souls not tainted with hatred towards Ermedeline than to locate those who were.

Even if they survived and reached the battlefield, and even if they managed to deal with Ermond, it was uncertain how likely it was that Ermedeline would survive and return to the imperial palace.

Thus, both men made their own preparations before departure. Arvian requested support from a nearby temple, while Felio scouted escape routes for a potential immediate retreat with Ermedeline from the battlefield.

To an outsider, the group might appear as a cohesive unit bound by noble patriotism, eager to defend a nation in crisis. But each individual was driven by their own goals.