I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 546: Johanna’s judgment (2)

Meanwhile Nathan stood there in the stillness, the street now deathly silent save for the faint crackle of frost along the stones. His crimson eyes, devoid of warmth or pity, were fixed upon Johanna’s frozen form.

Johanna trembled uncontrollably, her lips quivering as she tried and failed to hold his gaze. “P…please…wait…” she whispered, voice brittle and soaked in despair. The defiance that had once defined her was gone — replaced by pure, animal fear.

Behind them, the door of the hidden house burst open. Ameriah stumbled out, her face pale and eyes wide with panic. The distant noise had drawn her out despite Auria’s desperate attempts to keep her inside. When she saw Nathan — and the tableau of frozen soldiers and bloodstained snow — her terror surged. Without thinking, she rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his side as if clinging to the only thing keeping her anchored to reality.

“Lord Nathan…” Her voice trembled, muffled against his coat.

He looked down at her with fleeting softness and brushed a hand through her hair, his touch gentle despite the cold fury still emanating from him. Then his gaze flicked toward Auria, who stepped forward silently.

“Come, Princess,” Auria said softly, taking Ameriah’s hand and guiding her away. Her eyes, though calm, betrayed understanding — she knew what was about to happen.

Nathan turned back to Johanna, his face hardening into something colder than stone.

“You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side until now,” he said, his tone low, almost conversational — which made it all the more terrifying. “I would have let you live, had you stayed silent. But you…” His gaze sharpened, a flicker of red glinting in his irises. “You dared to touch — and try to kill — my woman.”

Those last words struck like a verdict from the underworld.

Johanna’s knees buckled. “S..sorry… please… I…I just obeyed Caesar! That’s all! I had no choice!” she sobbed, her tears freezing against her cheeks.

Nathan’s expression did not shift. He reached out and took the sword from her stiff, trembling hand — not with urgency, but with the slow, deliberate motion of a man claiming something that already belonged to him.

Behind him, Servilia stood, arms folded, her eyes cold and unreadable. “Don’t look,” she said quietly, addressing the three girls huddled nearby — Freja, Elin, and Ida. Her voice carried a calm finality that brooked no argument.

Freja’s breath caught in her throat, but she nodded. She could endure it, but Elin and Ida… they didn’t deserve to see this. Servilia’s tone told her exactly what was coming next.

Auria, too, turned Ameriah’s head away gently, shielding her eyes.

Johanna tried one last desperate plea, her voice high and raw with terror. “W…wait! Please! I’ll do anything you want! I swear, I—”

The sound that followed wasn’t a scream. It was the sharp, wet crack of steel cutting through flesh.

SPATTER.

Nathan’s sword moved faster than the eye could follow. For an instant, Johanna didn’t even realize what had happened. Then her world tilted — the cobblestones spinning — and her vision went dark as her head separated cleanly from her shoulders.

It hit the ground with a heavy thud and rolled forward until it stopped at the boots of a trembling girl.

Karine.

She had been paralyzed, watching everything with wide, unblinking eyes. But when the severed head — the lifeless, glassy stare of her teacher — came to rest at her feet, something inside her broke.

“HYAAAAA!!” Her scream ripped through the cold night, raw and piercing. She stumbled backward, collapsing onto the frozen stones, her whole body shaking violently.

Nathan’s crimson gaze fell upon her next. He stepped toward her slowly, the blood still dripping from the blade in his hand.

“So,” he said, his tone quiet, almost curious. “You’re the one who tracked Freja.” He stopped in front of her, towering over her trembling figure. “No need for Demon Kings when trash like you are eager enough to betray your own classmates.”

Karine’s breath came out in ragged sobs. “N…No… please!!” she whimpered, crawling backward on her hands. Her face was pale as ash, her eyes red and wet.

“W..wait…please…” Freja’s voice came softly from behind. She hesitated, her steps slow as she approached. Before moving closer, she turned and gestured for Elin and Ida to keep their eyes closed.

Nathan turned his head slightly toward her, his expression unreadable. “You want to spare her?” he asked. His tone was calm, but the chill beneath it was unmistakable. He had every intention of killing Karine — unless Freja’s next words changed his mind.

“I…” Freja swallowed hard. “I just want to know why.” Her voice broke. She turned her gaze to Karine, who had shrunk into herself. “Why, Karine? I thought we were friends.”

“F…friends…” Karine stammered, covering her face with trembling hands. “You… you were always better! Everyone liked you more, they always chose you! I—I just wanted to take revenge… I didn’t think it would go this far, I swear!” Her voice dissolved into sobs. “The professor said to just… help her find you… I didn’t know… I didn’t know it would turn into this!”

Her words echoed weakly in the frozen street — excuses, regrets, and the faint rustle of snow settling on the bodies of the fallen.

Freja’s lips parted, but no words came out at first — only the faintest sound of breath trembling against the cold air. Her eyes darted between Karine’s crumpled form on the ground and Nathan’s unmoving expression. The plea that formed in her gaze was faint, almost uncertain, as if her body acted on instinct rather than conviction.

She didn’t truly beg — not the way someone would to save a friend. There was something muted about her, restrained. Nathan saw it instantly.

He understood why.

This wasn’t mercy — it was guilt. The entire chain of events that led to Ida’s capture, to Servilia’s near execution, to Johanna’s death, had started with her. It was Freja who had been tracked. Freja who had been the target. And Freja who now stood before him, shoulders slumped, crushed beneath the weight of that truth.

Nathan’s gaze drifted from her to Karine, who lay in the dirt, shaking like a child. He raised Johanna’s blood-slick sword and leveled it toward her throat. The blade gleamed in the torchlight, crimson streaks dripping down to the frost-covered stones.

“NOOO!” Karine shrieked, eyes wide, her back arching as if she could somehow crawl away from the inevitable.

“Shut your mouth.” Nathan’s tone was quiet — too quiet — but it cut through her scream with lethal precision. The force in his voice made her flinch and clasp her trembling hands over her mouth, stifling another cry.

“I’ll ask you one question,” he continued, stepping closer, his boots crunching over the frost. “Did you betray them knowing that any one of those three could die — or worse?”

His voice carried no anger, only cold interrogation.

Karine’s body shook. “N…No! I swear it! I didn’t know they’d hurt anyone! I just… I didn’t know what to do when they took Ida! I was scared!” Tears streamed down her face, hot against the freezing night.

Nathan studied her for a moment, the silence heavy and suffocating. Then, with a slow exhale, he stabbed the sword into the ground before her. The blade sank into the stone with a sharp crack, quivering upright — close enough that she could see her own terrified reflection in the blood-streaked steel.

He turned his gaze toward Ida, who had been standing quietly nearby, clutching her arm.

“Take her back to the Senate Castle,” Nathan ordered. His tone was final, leaving no room for argument. “Now.”

“Y…Yes!” Ida stammered. She hurried to Karine’s side, helping her shakily to her feet. Their eyes met — Karine’s filled with shame, Ida’s with pity — before the two hurried away down the path. Freja and Elin watched them leave, neither speaking.

Nathan then turned toward Medea, who had silently materialized from the shadows, her crimson hair glinting faintly in the pale moonlight.

“Clean up the bodies,” he said. “Then take the five of them to the other hidden house. The one Crassus and his family lives. They stay together. No need to separate them now. It’s almost over anyway.”

Medea inclined her head, eyes glowing faintly. “Understood.”

Nathan’s gaze shifted again — this time toward the remaining three girls. “You’ll stay together in another house. Medea will take you there. Don’t do anything foolish until I’m done.”

Freja’s voice broke the silence. “S…sorry…”

Nathan turned to face her fully.

She stood there, trembling, eyes glistening under the faint moonlight. Her voice was small when she spoke again. “I… I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been so useless, if I’d done something… none of this would’ve happened.” Her words came out in gasps as tears spilled freely down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault…”

Nathan looked at her, then stepped closer until his shadow fell over her. “It’s not your fault,” he said evenly. “Did you predict that girl would betray you? That she’d have the skill to track you like that?”

Freja shook her head weakly, still unable to look at him. “B..but if I had stayed—”

“That woman would have found another way,” Nathan interrupted, glancing briefly toward Johanna’s severed head lying motionless nearby. “If not through Karine, then through someone else. Her obsession made it inevitable.”

Freja bit her lower lip, guilt still gnawing at her chest.

Nathan regarded her in silence for a moment, then said quietly, “If you really want to make things right — if you want to save your classmates — then deal with the man who forced you to stay here.”

Her head snapped up, realization dawning in her tearful eyes. “A..Axel…”

Nathan nodded slightly.

“I… I will,” she said, voice trembling but resolute.

“Good.” Nathan’s tone was final — a judgment passed and done. He turned slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked toward the darkened horizon. “As for me,” he murmured, “I’ll take care of the other one tonight. The one who plays gladiator.”