I Start with 13 Hidden Traits Chapter-113

Ch-113

—

“P-Please… spare me. I beg you.”

Looking at Lady Dersian, who had prostrated herself flat before me, I inwardly nodded.

A wretched, devastated appearance.

Her face grew more hollow with each passing day.

Frightened by the “purification,” she had ended up coming all the way to me.

The fear that she might be killed at any moment had driven her to her knees.

*She believes she might be a sinner.*

If she were not a Player, she could have simply held her head high.

But perhaps the people vanishing day after day had become a source of terror for her.

Or perhaps she was acting this way because something pricked at her conscience. That, I needed to confirm.

“…Spare you?”

After organizing my thoughts and speaking in a heavy tone, Lady Dersian nodded frantically.

“Y-Yes! If you’ll just spare me, I’ll do anything you ask.”

I slowly stroked my chin.

She had never been on the “sinner” list to begin with.

But Lady Dersian would not know that.

And there was no need to tell her.

*Lady Dersian believes I am affiliated with the Reaper Cult. And not merely affiliated—she believes I hold authority equal to No. 1.*

She wasn’t entirely wrong.

No. 1 had called me the same: a “Golden-Line Patron of the Rightful Heir.”

I stepped toward her, leaned down slightly, and lifted her chin with my hand.

When our eyes met directly, Lady Dersian’s pupils shook violently.

She was truly terrified of me.

She believed I could kill her at any moment.

If so—

“Anything?”

“If… if you’ll only spare me…”

She insisted that if she were spared, she would do anything.

I smiled leisurely.

Although she had misunderstood everything on her own, the misunderstanding seemed useful enough to deepen, so I began to *act*.

“Isabella von Dersian. Do you know why you’re here?”

“B-Because… because my name was placed on the ‘suspect’ list… wasn’t it?”

“And do you know *why* you were placed on that list?”

“That is…”

She did not know.

There was no way she could.

But all one hundred “auction participants” gathered here were those placed on the “suspected sinners” list.

Every one of them had some reason to suspect them as sinners.

Lady Dersian was no exception.

“Are you truly Isabella?”

“Wh-What…?”

As if the question made no sense.

I changed the question.

“Since *when* have you been Isabella?”

“Well, since I was born, naturally…”

It was not a lie.

She truly believed herself to be Isabella.

I frowned inwardly.

I had thought she was aware she was a fake.

Then… did that mean the Isabella who was likely inheriting the Queen’s throne in the desert city of Faisalmer was the fake?

*Only the memory is real.*

Impossible.

Isabella had awakened in the desert with her memories erased.

The only thing she remembered was her full name.

But that name could not be false.

I had raised that character myself, and the “True Name,” not the nickname, was indeed Isabella von Dersian.

The name created at the time of character creation was merely a nickname—a sort of alias.

The character’s “True Name” existed separately.

Thus, the Isabella in the desert was unquestionably Isabella von Dersian.

“From what age do you remember?”

“…My first memory is from when I was three.”

“Were you in House Dersian at that time?”

“Y-Yes. Without a doubt. Why do you ask…?”

“Just answer what I ask. You weren’t a twin, and there weren’t two Isabellas, were there?”

“No… Ah!”

Her eyes widened, as if something came to mind.

“I—I think I remember seeing a child who looked like me. Is that why…?”

“Continue.”

“There was a child with a ‘Divine Disease.’ We weren’t twins, but the child had an oddly similar aura to me, so I remember her. B-But we were told never to approach her… And then one day, she suddenly disappeared.”

Divine Disease?

A god’s disease. Was there ever a disease by that name?

“A Divine Disease, you said.”

“Well… I only vaguely recall hearing it mentioned by the elders of the family. I don’t really know what kind of illness it was…”

Probing lightly, she reacted as though she truly did not know.

My mind grew complicated.

It seemed Isabella and this so-called “Divine Disease” were connected.

*They do look strangely similar.*

The Isabella before me and the Isabella in the desert shared subtle resemblances.

They may have grown into different forms, but as children, they could have resembled each other like twins.

“It—it’s not me. It must be that child. *That child* is the sinner!”

Lady Dersian protested desperately.

She had interpreted the intent of my question entirely on her own.

But more importantly—

*The elders of the family know something. If that child with the Divine Disease is the desert Isabella, then House Dersian may have abandoned her entirely.*

I must investigate further—but whether finding her origins would truly be salvation for the desert Isabella, I still could not be sure.

However, one thing *was* certain.

“I will spare you.”

“Aah…!”

“But. There is a condition.”

“W-What is it?”

“Return to your family and ‘quietly’ investigate the child with the Divine Disease. Afterward, seek me through Hudson in Arcana. If what you say is true, I will take it into consideration. But if you utter a single useless word beyond what I ordered, I will place you back on the purification list.”

“Y-Yes! I will, absolutely.”

Lady Dersian nodded frantically.

Relief washed over her face.

But her eyes burned with resolve.

She fully believed she had been mistakenly brought here in place of the child with the Divine Disease.

That misunderstanding only strengthened her trust in me.

So I asked:

“Is there anything else I should know?”

An invitation to confess voluntarily.

She hesitated briefly, then spoke with solemn seriousness.

“…Dersian intends to capture all four Calamities and use them as ‘weapons of war.’ They failed once in Delphia, but they will not give up. And I heard that if one captures Baal, the remaining Calamities can also be awakened…”

The continuation of her story struck like a bolt of lightning.

*Hah.*

To survive, she betrayed her own family.

…Quite admirable, really.

—

—

After both the “purification” and “auction” ended—

Seventy-five participants remained. Twenty-five participants and all their attendants had been abducted and killed by the Reaper Cult.

*That Master is a lucky bastard.*

Participant No. 53, the Master, had narrowly escaped the trap.

The tests continued even after the second day, but he had managed to avoid all of them.

Luck, and uncanny instinct.

“This is the Reaper Cult’s main sanctuary.”

…And once purification ended, I followed No. 1 directly to the main sanctuary.

Passing through several warps, an enormous, extravagant palace came into view immediately.

This vast territory was unmistakably—

*The Imperial Palace.*

Without question, the property of the Empire’s royal family.

A domain I had never once reached while playing Pangenia.

—

—

 

Crunch.

On Earth, the Master ground his teeth.

Though he had escaped the Empire alive, he could not hide his humiliation.

*You dare lure me?*

How he had anticipated this grand auction.

The relics he had hurriedly sold to prepare.

The loss was indescribable.

Had it been merely financial loss, he could have recovered.

The problem was the loss that could not be recovered: his pride.

They had treated him like prey trapped in a snare.

A man who had ruled like a king had become a pathetic animal, living day to day in disgrace.

Still—he could have endured that.

*But…!*

It resurfaced.

The moment he placed his hand into the Powder of Truth.

The most humiliating moment of his time in the Empire, one he never wanted to recall.

He could overlook everything else—but not that moment.

Never.

“If you want to live, you’d better start explaining.”

The Master glared at Blackflame, murderous intent leaking from him.

Blackflame swallowed hard and trembled.

“W-Why? What’s wrong?”

“You were double-dealing between me and the Empire.”

“Wh-What are you talking about? I told you—I was kidnapped!”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true! I was kidnapped and they tried to force me to spill your information! I didn’t say a single word, and thanks to that we made it out alive—”

Crash!

The Master threw a punch.

Crackle!

Space around Blackflame shattered like glass.

Space-breaking—one of the Master’s innate abilities.

“You expect me to believe you were kidnapped and didn’t spill anything? Who would believe that crap?”

Blackflame hadn’t been at the banquet hall.

It was impossible for her to slip out alone.

Reasonably, one might think she was kidnapped—but the person in question was Blackflame.

If she had been kidnapped, she would have been in an overwhelmingly disadvantageous position. The kind of woman who would invent stories about the Master just to save her own life.

If she wasn’t kidnapped, there was only one possibility:

She had been a spy for the Empire from the start.

“But you can believe this much. If you don’t spill everything right now, I will crush you. First your face. Then I’ll tear out your hair, pull every tooth, burn you, pour melted salt into your gums and wounds, and break you apart slowly.”

“A-Ah… ngh…”

Blackflame shuddered violently.

He meant it.

He intended to destroy her entirely.

“F-Fine! Fine, I’ll talk! But don’t misunderstand. I honestly didn’t know what kind of place it was. I—I just sold little bits of Player information for a good price, that’s all…”

“Did you sell my information too?”

“Never! Even I’m not crazy enough to go *that* far! That’d put me in danger too! And if I’d known that masked guy was that kind of person, I wouldn’t have gone near him! Damn it, I was tricked too!”

“Since when?”

“H-He only approached me recently. Half a year ago? Please believe me!”

She sounded genuinely wronged.

It seemed she had been selling Player information all this time as a side business.

She probably wasn’t the only one.

There must have been multiple “information peddlers” like her.

Using combined intel, they had likely gathered candidates and drawn them to the auction.

Blackflame licked her dry lips and continued.

“But we made it out alive, right? So now they can’t possibly think we’re Players anymore, right? The Reaper Cult would never let a Player go alive if they knew, right?”

“No. They spared *you* on purpose.”

The Master was convinced.

They knew Blackflame was a Player.

They let her go because they intended to use her again.

Betrayal is difficult the first time, but easy the second.

Especially for someone who had already sold information for money.

Blackflame scowled.

“They know I’m a Player? Even though I mixed real and fake info on purpose?”

“Yes. And when they approach you again, you won’t be able to refuse. Being branded a traitor by *both* sides means certain death.”

“…This is too different from the Reaper Cult’s usual behavior.”

The cult never made contact with sinners.

If they deemed someone a sinner, they either attached a Reaper or eliminated them.

The cult dealing with sinners?

Impossible by their usual conduct.

“They changed their methods. The situation has changed.”

“What situation?”

“Wilhelm is dead.”

“…And what does that have to do with anything?”

At Blackflame’s earnest confusion, the Master clicked his tongue.

“Wilhelm was the only human they couldn’t touch despite knowing he was a Gamer’s avatar. They couldn’t take any action. They couldn’t even approach him. That’s who Wilhelm was.”

“Wait— they *knew*?”

He didn’t bother explaining further.

Unlike Blackflame, the Master knew far more about the circumstances surrounding the Grand Expedition.

The Reaper Cult had identified Wilhelm.

But they could not approach him.

They couldn’t attach a Reaper to him, nor could they brand him a sinner.

*Wilhelm had clearly acted as a kind of limiter on the Reaper Cult’s movements.*

Even the Master did not know the exact reason.

But he was certain of one thing: the Empire’s refusal to participate in the Grand Expedition was tied to Wilhelm. And naturally, the Reaper Cult had been entangled in that reason as well.

However, a “Player purge” of this magnitude had never happened before.

If it had, there was no way he wouldn’t have known.

So why had the Reaper Cult suddenly changed its method?

Did Wilhelm’s death make them believe they no longer needed to hold back?

*And half a year ago lines up perfectly with the timing of Wilhelm’s death.*

There was another reason he believed this.

The moment the Reaper Cult approached Blackflame coincided with the period when the Grand Expedition had failed.

There was no way this was a mere coincidence.

And if it wasn’t a coincidence—

*Reaper Cult. Are you planning to ‘purify’ every last Player in Pangaenia?*

Such malice.

…That was no different than treating them like insects or disease.

 

 

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