Transmigration: I Made A Deal With A Man in Yellow

"When our God sent me those visions, He never told me exactly where the cure was. He only showed me its location—a place so dangerous that reaching it could cost the lives of every companion who followed me."

She lowered her gaze slightly.

"So I was left with a choice. I could ask my companions to risk their lives with me in search of the cure... or I could do nothing and stand by as our people slowly died."

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"Our God did not lead us to our demise. We willingly chose to search for the Flame, knowing full well that we might never return. It was our choice whether we followed the visions or ignored them. We were never forced."

She paused again before continuing.

"We could have refused. We could have stayed behind and perhaps avoided the fate that awaited us, but..." Her voice weakened slightly. "We couldn’t. We couldn’t simply stand there and watch our people suffer when there was even the slightest chance that we could save them."

Yet, in the end, that salvation had brought about their own demise.

"But you..." I looked at her. "You killed your own people. That same Flame that was supposed to save them corrupted you and caused you to slaughter everyone you wanted to protect—"

"Shut your mouth."

Her voice was soft, but the anger hidden beneath it was impossible to miss.

She slowly turned her head toward me, and even though I couldn’t see her eyes clearly, I could feel her glare. For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. Eventually, the anger around her seemed to settle, replaced by something much heavier.

"I..." Her voice trembled slightly. "I didn’t want to slaughter them. I had no choice."

I frowned.

"What do you mean you had no choice? From what I know, you were corrupted because of your greed. You wanted the Flame’s power for yourself." I paused before continuing. "The Flame can act as both a cure and a poison depending on how it’s used. You failed to find the cure, and when you returned to your people, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them the truth. So instead, you—"

"You know nothing, child of the future."

She interrupted me again.

This time, there was no anger in her voice.

Only pain.

I raised an eyebrow. "You know I’m from the future?"

"Yes. I could tell from the moment I saw you that you did not belong to my time."

She slowly rose to her feet, gripping her scythe as she turned toward me.

"Whatever you know about our story is wrong. I did not slaughter my people because I was greedy for power. No..." Her grip around the scythe tightened. "I was greedy for salvation. I wanted to save them so desperately that I was willing to do anything."

She paused.

"But in the end, I slaughtered them because someone forced me to."

Someone forced her?

A frown formed on my face.

"Who?"

For a moment, Friede didn’t answer.

"I... don’t remember."

She brought one hand to the side of her head, her expression twisting slightly as though she were trying to force a memory that refused to surface.

"I don’t remember his name. I don’t remember his face. I can’t even remember what he was." Her voice became quieter. "But there is one thing I could never forget."

Slowly, she raised her scythe and pointed its blade directly at me.

"His stench."

I remained silent.

Friede’s grip tightened around the weapon.

"And you..." Her voice grew colder. "You reek of him."

Remembering a man only by his smell was kind of... weird.

But why couldn’t she remember anything else about him?

Was the corruption eating away at her memories?

It was possible. After all, she had been trapped in this place for more than ten thousand years, and corruption didn’t simply drive someone mad. It slowly consumed their memories and twisted their desires until there was barely anything left of the person they used to be.

Still, there was something else bothering me.

The Lion Knight had also mentioned that I served someone. Now Sister Friede was talking about a mysterious man whose stench apparently clung to me.

There was a good chance they were talking about the same person.

But what did she mean when she said I reeked of him?

I bathed every single day, unlike Ezio, so there was no way I smelled like some random man.

Unless...

This had nothing to do with my actual body.

Maybe the ’stench’ she was talking about was something attached to my soul.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

Sister Friede shook her head.

"No. I cannot remember his face at all." She placed a hand against the side of her head again, trying to search through what remained of her memories. "But whenever I think about him, something always appears in my mind."

She went silent for a moment.

Then her expression changed slightly.

"A yellow sign."

I blinked.

"Yes..." she continued with more certainty. "That’s it. Whenever I try to remember him, the first thing that comes to mind is a yellow sign."

"A yellow... sign?"

What the hell was that?

I immediately searched through my memories, recalling the Chapters, characters, artifacts, and lore I had written for this world.

Nothing.

There had never been anything called the Yellow Sign in my novel.

"Do you remember what it looked like?" I asked. "The sign, I mean."

Sister Friede remained silent for several seconds as she tried to remember. Eventually, she shook her head again.

"No. I cannot remember its shape."

That didn’t help at all.

She remembered a sign but couldn’t remember what the sign actually looked like?

That was both weird and completely absurd.

Still, with everything she had told me, I was already ninety-nine percent certain I knew who this mysterious person was.

"I have entertained you enough, child."

Sister Friede’s figure blurred from the altar and appeared right in front of me.

I dodged a kick by stepping backward. Her toes passed inches from my face, and they were actually very clean and pale.

Though I wanted to hear more about her story and that supposed man, I had to try my best to get the dagger somewhere on the altar.

Sister Friede planted her foot against the ground and twisted her body before kicking toward my chest. I dodged by stepping to the side and grabbed her ankle with my left hand.

As a result, frost quickly spread across my glove, so I had to let go if I didn’t want my hand to freeze.

Sister Friede’s scythe was already on its way toward my neck, so I twisted my right wrist, lifted my scythe, and blocked the attack.

I let the frozen glove crumble away and formed a new one.

I clenched that same hand into a fist and punched toward her face.

She had a really gorgeous face, which made me feel a little bad about trying to punch it, but I was trying to survive here, not admire a maiden’s beauty.

Sister Friede slapped my fist away with her hand, stepped into my space, and struck my chest with the back of her hand.

I was sent flying into the wall, shaking the church.

Smack!

"Argh... that hurt," I groaned.

Before I could even push myself off the wall, Sister Friede had already closed the distance and was driving another fist toward my chest.

I infused my body with mana and pushed myself away from the wall just before Sister Friede punched a hole through it.

Bam!

Sister Friede’s fist sank into the wall, and web-like cracks spread across it from the impact of her terrifying strength.

Sweat ran down my face.

"Are sisters supposed to be this violent?"

Sister Friede pulled her fist out of the wall and answered,

"If needed."

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