To You Who Will Destroy Me - Chapter 125 (FIXED)

“You can come in now.”

Jin, who had carefully inspected the cave in advance, gave the signal. Irel cautiously stepped inside.

“Hmm.”

Her first impression was, honestly, disappointing. It was too dark to see much, and the place reeked of dust after being abandoned for so long.

“Not much to see, is there?”

Noticing her reaction, Jin rummaged through his bag and pulled out some materials. He had come prepared to make a torch just in case.

Wrapping the oil-soaked cloth around a stick, he lit it, and the torch burst into flames with a whoosh. Surprisingly bright for a makeshift torch, it illuminated the cave clearly, allowing Irel to take in her surroundings.

“It does look like a sculptor’s workshop.”

The old, battered wooden table was covered in deep cuts from carving tools, and various chisels and instruments were scattered nearby.

“Should I remove these covers?”

Jin gestured toward the gray sheets draped over several marble sculptures. At Irel’s nod, her heart pounding with anticipation, he tugged at one of the sheets.

Cough, cough!

“What is all this dust…?”

To their surprise, the sheet had originally been white. It had only turned gray after years of accumulated dust.

“Oh my! These are enormous!”

Jin held the torch higher, marveling at the sheer size of the sculptures. He inspected the rough, incomplete statues with interest.

“Wow… This looks like a mess.”

Irel couldn’t help but chuckle at his blunt assessment. For someone unfamiliar with art, it probably did look that way. Even to her, the roughly shaped statues, with only their outlines barely defined, weren’t particularly impressive.

But what if these were the works of Paulo Christopher? Irel’s gaze sharpened, and she began to carefully examine the statues under the flickering torchlight. Among these, surely one of them must be the sculptor’s final masterpiece.

Why isn’t the quest completed?

Was this the wrong place? Had she stumbled into the wrong workshop? As she mulled over the possibility, pacing around the statues, something unexpected happened.

Thump.

The gemstone in her pocket began to pulse.

“W-what?”

It felt as though an invisible hand was guiding her, pulling her toward something. She had experienced this phenomenon once before, so Irel wasn’t as startled this time. In fact, she welcomed it.

Please, just show me where it is already!

Her feet stopped in front of a secluded wall. It was a rugged stone surface, covered in moss and uneven ridges—a simple rock wall with no sign of any sculptures or secrets.

“…?”

What was this? A bug? Excuse me, game devs? I can’t progress like this.

As Irel stared blankly at the moss-covered wall, Jin followed closely behind and raised the torch to examine the area carefully.

“Please step back for a moment, ma’am.”

Jin’s sharp Masaka vision proved useful even in the dim light. He spoke with a serious air, as if he’d spotted something. Irel stepped aside, watching as he bent down and picked something off the ground.

“There’s a coin here. Hah! Lucky, isn’t it?”

Are you kidding me right now? Irel shot Jin an exasperated glare, her patience clearly wearing thin.

“Just a joke, just a joke,” Jin said with a sheepish laugh, waving the coin playfully. Then, as if realizing something, he grabbed one of the dusty sheets that had been covering the statues and started scrubbing the wall with it.

“Oh my!”

What he revealed made Irel gasp.

As the thick layers of moss were scraped away, the true surface of the cave wall was revealed. For a natural rock wall, it was strangely smooth—unnaturally so. And now, it became clear why.

A massive mural, engraved into the stone, spread out before them.

“This is…”

Jin was visibly astonished. Using his Masaka agility and strength, he swiftly cleared away the remaining moss in just a few minutes. What emerged was a vast, intricately detailed mural that covered the entire wall.

“What exactly is this, ma’am?”

Jin asked, his mouth agape. He seemed to expect Irel to know the answer, but she was just as baffled as he was.

“Not sure… It looks like a kind of legend or myth.”

Irel studied the figures etched into the wall, speaking hesitantly as she tried to piece together the story. At first, she hadn’t noticed, but there was a clear narrative flow to the mural. The same characters appeared repeatedly, as though telling a sequential tale.

“A man and a woman. They seem to be lovers?”

Jin, too, picked up on the thread. Together, they circled the mural, unraveling its story as best they could.

The tale began with a man and a woman deeply in love. Their affection was profound, as evidenced by a scene where the man knelt at the woman’s feet and kissed them, proposing marriage.

“They weren’t just lovers—they were married,” Jin concluded.

After their marriage, the couple shared an idyllic life, lost in their own world of love. Time passed, and they had children—many children. The mural showed the woman cradling several babies, smiling blissfully.

But then, things took a sinister turn. While the woman was depicted laughing joyfully with their children, the man’s expression began to darken. Over the course of three mural panels, his once-loving gaze turned icy, his smile vanishing entirely. The transition was so vivid and unsettling that it sent chills down Irel’s spine.

Then came the night.

The mural depicted the couple in bed after an intimate moment. The woman, visibly pregnant, slept peacefully, her happiness radiating from the scene. The man, however, lay awake, his eyes wide open. Beneath the bed, he retrieved a sharp dagger.

“No way…”

Irel’s stomach churned with dread as the next scene unfolded. The man raised the blade against his wife. A violent struggle broke out on the bed they had just shared. The mural vividly captured the betrayal in the woman’s wide, desperate eyes, her flailing limbs as she tried to fend him off.

Though she fought desperately, the man overpowered her. He pried her mouth open and cruelly cut out her tongue. The mural depicted her bloodied mouth and her trembling hands covering it, as she fell off the bed and wept. Yet, the man showed no mercy—he dragged her out and threw her away without a second thought.

Thud.

The final panel showed the woman, abandoned and alone, with her heart falling to the ground and splitting in two. And with that, the mural ended.

“What… is this?”

Irel stood frozen, overwhelmed by the horrific tale. The silence was broken by the familiar ding of a system notification ringing in her ears.

[Hidden Quest: ‘Following the Footsteps of Moonlight’ has been completed. Meet the Prophet to receive your reward.]

The sound jolted Irel back to reality, and she quickly realized what it meant.

“Ah… This entire mural… It’s Paulo Christopher’s final masterpiece.”

The scale of the work was staggering. She had imagined discovering a single statue or two at most, but instead, here was an extraordinary mural that dwarfed anything she had expected.

Still, something felt off. Paulo Christopher had been a sculptor renowned for creating serene religious icons. Why, then, had his final work been this disturbing, ominous mural?

“And who is this Prophet I’m supposed to meet for the reward? What does that mean?”

As Irel stood dazed, her mind swirling with questions, Jin suddenly stepped forward, his demeanor tense.

“…Lady Irel. Please step back.”

“Why? Did you find more coins?”

Still annoyed by his earlier antics, Irel glanced down at the ground near her feet. All she saw were the moss and dirt Jin had scraped away.

“Who’s there!”

Instead of answering, Jin shouted toward the entrance of the cave, his eyes sharp. He drew his sword and moved to shield Irel behind him, his stance serious. Realizing something was amiss, Irel quickly ducked behind cover.

“Reveal yourself, or I will attack immediately!”

“…Attack?”

The reply came in a remarkably calm voice.

“What could a third-rate Masaka, who only knows cheap tricks, possibly do to me?”

The voice was sharp, precise, and elegant, as if a graduate student were presenting a paper under a professor’s watchful eye. The refined tone clashed with its cutting words.

Masaka with innate strength were often likened to wild animals, driven by primal instincts. Their abilities were designed for combat, so their value was tied to their effectiveness in battle.

But not all Masaka were born with such gifts. Those on the other end of the spectrum were often dismissed as…

“Weaklings who are useless for grander purposes, relegated to guarding some criminal’s mistress. An empty threat, really.”

Such words were a deep insult to the prideful Masaka. Jin, however, was unbothered.

“Unfortunate for you, this so-called ‘third-rate Masaka’ happens to excel at cheap tricks,” he retorted with a sly grin, his eyes glinting. It was clear he had already begun weaving illusions to disorient his opponent.

“So, I suggest you reveal your identity willingly—unless you want to look pathetic.”

Jin raised the torch higher, illuminating the figure standing at the cave’s entrance.

The man was slender and dressed in a dark brown robe, the kind often worn by pilgrims. His features were mostly obscured by the brim of a hat pulled low over his face, but glimpses of golden hair and a sharp jawline hinted at an attractive visage.

“I didn’t expect to find guests here before me.”

The man tilted his head, a crimson smile curving on his lips. Contrary to Irel’s expectations, he removed his hat without hesitation.

Swish.

His slender face was pale, almost unnaturally so, as if he had never been touched by sunlight. His golden hair fell gracefully to his shoulders, and his clean, well-groomed hands betrayed a life of privilege.

As the flickering torchlight danced across his face, Irel scrutinized him closely, a strange sense of familiarity gnawing at her.

Where have I seen him before?

Something was different back then—his nose, the curve of his eyes, and those mismatched irises didn’t seem as pronounced. But still…

“Leonardo?!”

The name burst out of Irel’s mouth like a lightning strike, shocking even herself. The moment she said it, she realized her mistake. That was his alias.

Damn.

Why had she forgotten? This man was none other than Archbishop Ramon.

What the hell are you doing here?