Cerista’s entrance, which drew unintended attention, was followed by her treating McHart’s injuries. This set the stage for the confrontation, led by Seraphine, regarding the conflicting claims of McHart and Ethan. Ethan insisted that McHart had used demonic power and threatened my life, justifying his death. McHart, on the other hand, accused Ethan of fabricating the demon accusation as an excuse to kill him.

With both sides presenting their arguments, it was clear that words alone wouldn’t resolve the issue. This was where the "Mirror of Truth," one of the Saintess’s powers, needed to come into play.

Using the Mirror of Truth would reveal the true nature of anyone hiding their demonic identity. However, McHart hadn’t fully transformed into a demon yet, so it was unlikely that the mirror would reveal him as one directly. But I had a plan. Since McHart had already fused with dark magic to such an extent that it was nearly inseparable from his essence, the Mirror of Truth would expose his connection to demonic forces by revealing this dark magic.

"Cerista," Seraphine called, "Could you use the Mirror of Truth on my brother, McHart?"

"Y-yes…!" Cerista stammered, clearly flustered, but nodded reluctantly.

As someone who knew Cerista was a false Saintess, I understood her reaction. She wouldn’t be able to successfully use the Mirror of Truth on her own. Cerista’s title was "False Saintess," which meant she couldn’t wield the powers of a true Saintess. Perhaps in a few years, she might awaken to her true potential, but that time hadn’t come yet. For now, she lacked the pure faith required for such a role.

Even McHart and Seraphine seemed aware of this, judging by their confident and uneasy expressions, respectively. After all, in the original game, Seraphine never addressed Cerista as "Saintess" until she fully awakened, a subtle detail that could be noticed from the third playthrough onwards. McHart, through his connection with Evelyn and the demons, likely had information about Cerista’s true nature.

"Huu, hoo… Huu, hoo…" Cerista tried to steady herself, visibly nervous.

"Cerista, are you ready?" Seraphine asked, her tone patient but firm.

"Y-yes… Just a moment… It’s been a while since I last used this, so I’m a bit nervous…"

Cerista was struggling even to pretend she could use the Mirror of Truth. My plan had been to secretly cast the spell in her place, making it seem like she had done it, but it appeared Cerista was too nervous even to go through the motions.

Clearly, her gentle nature made lying difficult for her. The pressure of being falsely promoted as the Saintess for years had only worsened her timid personality. If things continued this way, not only would we fail to expose McHart’s demonic ties, but Ethan could be charged with attempted regicide, and Cerista’s identity as a false Saintess might also be revealed. I couldn’t let that happen, so I quietly stepped behind Cerista and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

-Tap.

"Eek! I’m s-sorry…"

‘Lady Cerista, calm down.’

"Y-yes…?"

‘I’m going to whisper the incantation for the Mirror of Truth to you. Just repeat after me slowly.’

"Y-yes, I under—"

‘Don’t respond out loud. People are watching.’

Cerista needed to maintain her role as the Saintess until we defeated the Demon King. If her true nature were exposed now, everything would fall apart.

‘If not, I’ll be running around like crazy after graduation.’

This was an important issue for me. I had enrolled in the academy with the hope of living an easy life after graduation, and if my plan went awry, all my efforts to alter my fate by entering the academy would have been in vain.

"Cerista?" Seraphine called again, noticing the delay.

"Princess Seraphine, Lady Cerista seems a bit nervous. May I hold her steady for a moment?" I asked, trying to sound calm and composed.

"…Yes, go ahead."

Whether Seraphine knew about my true identity as a Saintess or not was unclear, but with her permission, I began to quietly whisper the incantation into Cerista’s ear.

‘Let the false mask be removed, let the veil of delusion be lifted, and let the power of the Mirror of Truth descend upon this place.’

"Let the false mask be removed, let the veil of delusion be lifted…"

Cerista repeated my words slowly and carefully. She stumbled over some words, but it didn’t matter. The power of the Saintess wouldn’t falter due to a few minor errors. As long as I chanted the spell correctly, the Mirror of Truth would activate, regardless of what Cerista said.

‘When all illusions are revealed as false, the truth of the world will be unveiled through the holy power.’

"When all illusions are revealed as false, the truth of the world…"

Though Cerista was clumsy, she was trying her best to follow my lead. It was an admirable effort, considering this was her first time hearing the incantation. It wouldn’t hurt for her to memorize it now; after this event, she would eventually awaken as the true Saintess.

As our synchronized chanting reached its conclusion, the incantation echoed through the courtyard, and Cerista’s final words resonated quietly.

"When the Mirror of Truth is complete, all illusions will converge into a single vortex."

-Bwoom!

As Cerista finished her chant, the Mirror of Truth I had secretly cast illuminated McHart, and a small, circular holy sigil appeared in the air, bathing him in a pure white light.

For about five seconds, McHart was enveloped in this light, and when it finally faded, the results of the Mirror of Truth were revealed.

…There were no visible signs of demonic transformation—no horns, no discolored skin, no altered eyes.

"Is it over?" McHart asked, his voice filled with smugness.

"…"

"Nothing seems to have changed. I don’t feel any horns on my head, and my skin color hasn’t changed either."

"…"

"A person calling themselves the Saintess wouldn’t use a mere light spell to pretend they were using the Mirror of Truth. So, the fact that I haven’t transformed into a demon must mean that you were lying, Ethan."

Confident in his apparent victory, McHart approached Ethan, taunting him. He believed that because he hadn’t undergone a physical transformation, the Mirror of Truth was a sham, a mere trick.

But everyone except McHart already knew that the Mirror of Truth had worked perfectly. McHart was displaying undeniable evidence of dark magic right on his "face."

"Regicide… No, more precisely, attempted regicide is a serious crime. You may be in trouble, Ethan, but at least it’s not as severe as the actual crime. You might lose your head, but your family and fiancée will be spared."

"…"

"Of course, the Blackwood family will no longer be a ducal house, and your fiancée will lose her noble status. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her after you’re gone—"

"Who are you?! Where is Prince McHart?!" A voice suddenly cried out from the crowd, cutting McHart off.

"W-what?"

McHart’s smug expression froze as he realized that one of the nobles he had considered an ally was now accusing him. The woman’s reaction left him stunned; she had no idea what kind of "face" he was showing to the world.

McHart, still oblivious to the change in his appearance, confidently approached the crowd, but the young noblewoman who had spoken backed away, a look of disgust on her face.

"What are you saying, my lady? I’m right here, your beloved—"

"Don’t lie…!! There’s no way the prince could look like… like such a hideous beast…!!"

"…Hideous?"

McHart was taken aback by the young woman’s harsh words. As he hesitated, others in the crowd began to hurl similar insults at him.

"Where did you hide the prince?! Give him back!"

"Don’t pretend to be Prince McHart with that grotesque face! It’s revolting!"

"Stay away! You monster!!"

"W-wait… What are you all talking about…?"

The nobles, who had once shown unwavering loyalty to McHart, now turned against him. Their voices, filled with anger and disgust, overwhelmed him, causing him to stumble backward and fall to the ground. He had never experienced such collective scorn, and it showed on his face, which contorted with disbelief.

One of the more observant noblewomen finally seemed to grasp the truth, murmuring aloud, "Could it be… that this is the true face revealed by the Mirror of Truth…?"

With that realization, the crowd began to murmur among themselves, their suspicions growing. A small hand mirror suddenly fell at McHart’s feet, thrown by Seraphine.

"Brother McHart, why don’t you take a look at your face?" Seraphine suggested with a tone of disdain.

"…"

McHart hesitated, but he eventually picked up the mirror. What he saw reflected in it was the distorted, ugly visage of a man who looked like he had been crudely sculpted out of clay.