MILWTG 54

~Chapter 54~

The Empress didn’t even glance at Baroness Florence as she stood and made brief eye contact with the noblewomen who rose with her. Without a word, she left the salon.

The other ladies followed suit.

Baroness Florence reached out to stop them, one by one, but was met only with cold rejection.

“See you next time.”
“I guess we’ll meet again at the ball.”
“Leaving already?”
“I need to shop to calm down after this ridiculous event.”
“Shall we go together, then?”
“Sounds good.”

The women grouped up and left, chatting among themselves.

Riden quietly slipped away with them.

She turned back once to glance at Baroness Florence, who was staring blankly at the fireplace with a dazed expression.

‘People like you are so easy to read…’

Riden had met many like her in her past life. She turned and walked away.

The salon was now empty.

Baroness Florence sat, dazed, among the mess of half-cleared tables and scattered chairs. A maid approached her.

“Ma’am, shall we clean up now that all the guests are gone?”

“Clean up?”

Finally noticing the state of the room, she glanced around.

Off to the side, the musicians she had paid dearly for were still sitting with their instruments.

Hiring musicians wasn’t unusual for nobles, but for someone with debt, it had been a big expense.

Baroness Florence approached them. Her cold gaze made the musicians shrink.

“Um… should we leave now?”

“Leave? It’s not over yet. You were paid. Do your job.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am. What should we play?”

“Listen carefully.”

Her eyes looked slightly unhinged as she began to sing a tune the musicians had never heard before.

“Life is hard for everyone, no one gets everything. Got it? Play that.”

They tried to follow the melody. Then she sang the next line:

“Don’t be upset that you’re not the main character in a novel. The moment you think you are, then you are the star.”

Then came the chorus—something like a catchy pop song:

“Dream of a better future than today, life starts now. Amorang Party, Amorang Party.”

The musicians clumsily played along.

Baroness Florence began to move with the music, her shoulders bouncing.

“Amorang Party!”

The grand salon of the Florence estate turned into something resembling a tourist bus with blasting music on a road trip.

This was her way of coping. When her husband left her, when she heard he had died—she danced it out.

‘I’ll forget it all again today! I still have two sons!’

“Amorang Party!”

Maids entered to clean but left in horror after seeing her wild dancing.

Meanwhile, the Empress had already vanished.

Outside, the noblewomen were fuming.

“I thought this was a wholesome event, but it was outrageous.”
“I feel tricked by a con artist.”
“Honestly, even a con artist wouldn’t be this bold.”
“Who says a bride doesn’t need a dowry? Of course the groom’s family considers it. At least be subtle!”

Riden walked behind them through the garden.

‘That’s why I sent the letters. No one should send their daughter into a house like that!’

As she followed them, the group slowed. Voices could be heard nearby.

“What’s going on?”
“What’s all that about?”

Just outside the estate, unfamiliar flyers were scattered across the walkway.

Riden picked one up. Her face turned pale.

[Possessed Ones Must Be Reported to the Temple! Report to the Church!]

It said to contact the church if you found a dangerous possessed person.

‘Possessed…? Me?’

Was there someone else like her in this world?

And if they’re encouraging reports, that clearly meant people didn’t view possession kindly.

But as she read on, she felt relieved.

It specified: “Report only evil god possessions.”

‘Evil god? Ah…’

She remembered a part of the original novel.

At the beginning, the author mentioned Ethan’s curse and explained that followers of the evil god Berbeth sometimes created possessed vessels to spread the god’s influence.

‘That scared me.’

She had imagined herself being dragged into a dark underground prison.

Just then, a carriage from her family arrived, and Corel, already seated inside, waved.

“My lady!”
“Hey.”

Once inside, Corel asked:

“How was the salon? You seem dazed—was it really that fun?”

“Yeah. It was shockingly fun.”

While the salon went on, Corel had waited with other servants. She said the refreshments were poor, especially by capital standards—but for her, a countryside girl, it was still fun.

She glanced at the flyer in Riden’s hand.

“Looks like another possessed case popped up.”

Riden widened her eyes.

“You know about possessed people too?”

“Of course. Everyone talks about it.”

They left the noble district, and Corel pointed out the window.

“Oh, look! That’s the checkpoint.”

At the entrance to the upper-class district, some people had set up tables. White-robed figures—clearly from the church—stood among them.

Corel stared out, reminiscing.

“Remember when a possessed person showed up in our region?”
“Yeah, I do.”

“It’s rare in noble lands, so they usually cover it up. But the capital is different. With nobles and even the imperial family here, they try to prevent problems before they happen.”

She looked at the checkpoint.

“This is my first time seeing one, though.”

Riden listened quietly as their carriage slowed.

The coachman called back:

“My lady, we need to pass the checkpoint. It might take a while.”

Riden looked out and saw a long line of carriages.

Knights were checking each one carefully.

“There will be a special inspection. For your safety, please cooperate.”

‘So they’re checking for evil god possessions…’

Riden frowned.

Ethan’s curse was known as the “Blood Curse,” caused when the first Duke of Kenwolf drank the blood of the evil god Berbeth.

But why did he drink it?

The story went back to when the Eastern Empire was under attack from monsters.

The emperor was desperate and the church offered a solution: drink Berbeth’s blood to gain power and destroy the monsters.

Two benefits were promised:

1. The drinker would gain superhuman strength.

2. They would earn the god’s favor and receive divine blessings.

But the downside was the chance of losing one’s sanity.

Afraid of the side effects, the emperor made a loyal servant drink it instead—the first Duke of Kenwolf, who was secretly ordered to keep it quiet, even from his family.

‘Could a checkpoint really detect something like that?’

Even the cursed duke’s descendants didn’t know.

Their carriage rolled forward slowly.

“How do they even find a possessed person? Do you know, Corel?”

Corel tilted her head.

“I heard the priests can just sense it when one is near?”

‘Sense it? Sounds like a perfect excuse for a witch hunt…’

In the original novel, despite the elaborate worldbuilding, the plot focused mostly on romance. Riden had enjoyed those parts.

‘The heroine is taking too long to appear. Maybe I should stop waiting and start investigating myself.’

“Thank you for cooperating.”

The carriage ahead was waved through.

Now it was Riden’s turn.

A knock. She opened the door. A man peeked in with sharp eyes.

“Please step out for a moment.”

She stepped down, and another man approached her.

His face looked familiar.

He was one of the Florence family’s young masters—someone she briefly spoke with before the salon.