Episode 170
Elonia felt a complex mix of emotions after hearing Sarah’s story.
Sarah had suspected Philemon, not Elonia, even before Elonia was born. But she hadn’t truly believed it, so she had ignored her suspicions.
“It wasn’t you who killed my mother.”
Chelon was a Sword Mage. She wouldn’t use poisoned arrows.
“I was angry because I thought you hadn’t defied King Felix… I thought you were abandoning Ravanta.”
“That’s impossible!”
Elonia retorted sharply.
Abandon Ravanta? She could never do that.
Sarah wiped away the tears glistening in Elonia’s eyes and gently took her hand.
“Please stay here, Your Highness.”
Elonia’s face clouded with confusion.
“W-why…”
She might not have killed Sarah’s mother, but that didn’t erase the fact that she had killed others.
“I don’t deserve to be the princess of Ravanta…”
Elonia frowned, shaking her head in anguish.
Sarah’s sharp question cut through her self-pity.
“Did you kill civilians?”
“…!”
Elonia froze, startled. Sarah sat up straight and asked again,
“Did you kill unarmed civilians who were trying to surrender?”
“…I don’t know.”
It was an irresponsible answer, but she truly couldn’t remember. She had avoided drawing her sword outside the battlefield whenever possible, but she couldn’t trust her own memories.
Sarah answered for her, her voice filled with conviction.
“You wouldn’t have.”
She gently unfolded Elonia’s clenched right hand.
“The Elonia I know wouldn’t do that.”
Calluses from years of training, blisters that had burst and healed, calluses from diligently holding a pen.
A person’s life was etched onto their hands.
During her ten years as the War Demon, the owner of this hand had committed many sins. But for more than ten years since then, she had wielded her sword and pen, striving to live differently.
“As the War Demon, you were undoubtedly a slaughterer. But you sought repentance through death, and you’re striving to become better.”
Sarah had watched Elonia closely.
After Artius collapsed, Elonia had worked tirelessly to protect Ravanta, waking up at dawn and working late into the night.
“The War Demon is gone, Your Highness.”
Sarah, perhaps knowing Elonia better than even Artius, spoke with certainty.
“If you were truly the War Demon, you wouldn’t have saved me that day.”
Sixteen years ago, when Heilan attacked the Imperial Palace, Sarah had almost died. Elonia’s Chelon persona had been stronger back then.
And yet, she had saved Sarah. Even knowing that using magic in her young body would cause internal injuries, leaving her feverish for days.
“You can use your guilt over being Chelon to do even greater things.”
Elonia, having stood at the forefront of war, understood its pain better than anyone.
She was Philemon’s daughter, the daughter Sarah had raised.
She could undoubtedly become a good Empress.
“Stay in Ravanta and ensure something like this never happens again. Ensure no one loses their family to war. Your Sarah will help you.”
Sarah held out her pinky finger.
“So please don’t leave.”
Sarah’s lips were smiling, but her eyes shone with anxiety.
Elonia’s nose tingled.
She had thought her relationship with Sarah was over, but it wasn’t.
She had always worried Sarah. And yet, Sarah hadn’t let go of her.
She had once asked herself if she could be a good Empress.
‘Nothing has gone smoothly so far…’
Why? Sarah’s words made her believe that she could truly become a good Empress, a good person.
“Okay.”
Elonia slowly linked her pinky finger with Sarah’s.
“I’ll take responsibility and protect Ravanta until the very end.”
Elonia nodded, her eyes filled with determination.
She didn’t want to show tears in front of the person who believed in her.
Lucius paced anxiously in his room, staring intently at the door.
The sun had set long ago. Elonia and Sarah’s conversation was taking a long time.
He hadn’t expected Sarah to be there, and he was flustered. Sarah must know Elonia’s true identity now.
‘Please let things work out.’
Just as Lucius anxiously chewed on the inside of his cheek,
Knock, knock.
“Lucius? Are you there?”
Lucius rushed to the door like an eager puppy and flung it open.
Elonia looked slightly surprised, but then she smiled.
“I’m back.”
Elonia’s worries were usually written plainly on her face. Lucius could guess what she was about to say, but he still asked anxiously,
“Did your conversation with Lady Sardia go well?”
“Yes. Thanks to you.”
Elonia smiled, looking genuinely relieved for the first time in a long while.
Lucius’s face relaxed as well. Elonia asked,
“It’s late, but can I come in?”
Lucius nodded, holding the door open for her.
Elonia sat down on the sofa first. Lucius knelt on the floor instead of sitting on the sofa.
“What are you doing? Why are you on the floor?”
“I came to treat the injury Tristan inflicted earlier. You have bruises on your neck.”
“Ah.”
Elonia touched her neck sheepishly. Right, she had been choked.
“Wait, didn’t you get stabbed in the shoulder earlier?”
“That healed quickly.”
Elonia eyed his shoulder suspiciously, but there didn’t seem to be any lingering injury.
Those with Holy Power were generally resilient. And Lucius, having awakened twice, would be even more so.
Lucius looked at Elonia’s neck, his expression pained as if he were the one who had been choked, and asked cautiously,
“May I touch your neck?”
Elonia couldn’t help but laugh at his overly polite tone.
“Are you getting back at me for calling you frail earlier, now that you’re healed?”
“N-no!”
Lucius quickly denied it. Elonia chuckled and tilted her head towards him.
“Just kidding. Heal me.”
“…Yes.”
Lucius looked slightly sulky at being teased, but his expression quickly turned serious as he gently touched Elonia’s neck.
A soft Holy Power enveloped her neck like a scarf, and the bruises vanished into the air.
She hadn’t realized how much it hurt until the bruises were gone. It felt much better.
She was about to thank Lucius, but he bowed his head first.
“I apologize for speaking so presumptuously earlier.”
What words? Elonia tilted her head, then remembered.
Lucius’s reckless declaration about the massacre being the last one.
Elonia narrowed her eyes and placed her hand firmly on Lucius’s head.
“If you know better, don’t do it again.”
“…Yes.”
“And thank you for saving me and healing me.”
Lucius’s neck and ears turned red at Elonia’s thanks.
He looked flustered, averting his gaze and fiddling with his collar as he bowed his head again.
“N-no. I was just doing what I had to…”
Sometimes, Lucius showed glimpses of the boy he was.
Was it because they shared the experience of being deprived of a normal childhood? Elonia found his boyish side endearing.
She chuckled softly at his cuteness, and Lucius’s ears and neck turned as red as his lips.
“How long are you going to sit on the floor?”
“Ah.”
Lucius sheepishly moved to the sofa opposite Elonia. Elonia found it amusing that Lucius, who was usually so meticulous about cleanliness, would kneel on the floor without a second thought.
She had only seen the Asta brothers, who were obsessed with cleanliness.
Of course, Elonia didn’t know that Lucius was also quite fastidious. Anyway, Elonia asked,
“Tristan said you awakened, right?”
“Yes.”
“How did that happen?”
She had been curious about it since earlier. Lucius hesitated, then reached into his inner jacket pocket.
He pulled out a familiar silver ring.
“This is…”
“Yes. It’s the ring where Lady Philemon rests.”
How did Lucius have it? Elonia had definitely put the ring inside Philemon’s keepsake box.
Elonia stared at the ring, her eyes wide. Lucius slowly began his explanation.
“Sir Ricardo brought me the box. He said it kept rattling when Tristan started rampaging.”
Lucius had thought it was a sign that Philemon was waking up.
He had deduced the password based on her personality and opened the box, but the ring inside remained silent, just as it had before.
Philemon hadn’t awakened after all. Disappointed and puzzled by the rattling, he had picked up the ring to examine it.
“The power Lady Philemon had left in my body returned to the ring, and instead, the Calamity God’s power she possessed flowed into me.”
The power Philemon brought down was special.
It was a power normally reserved for Tristan during his time as an apostle, but Philemon had also been temporarily granted it solely to capture Tristan.
However, even with that power, Philemon hadn’t been able to defeat Tristan and had fallen victim to him.
“But you subdued Tristan.”
“It’s because I had awakened before.”
This was news to Elonia. Lucius shared the story he had only told Valerian.
“I awakened the power of foresight in Heilan.”
As Tristan tortured him, Lucius had grown stronger. To prevent this, Tristan had brutally suppressed him.
But Tristan had overlooked one thing.
“I studied how he wielded his god-like power and made it my own.”
Lucius already possessed exceptional talent as an apostle.
During his three years of captivity in Heilan, Tristan, the first apostle, had tortured and experimented on him. Tristan hadn’t realized it, but he had inadvertently helped Lucius awaken.
“My body had become accustomed to divine power, so the power Lady Philemon brought resonated within me and amplified significantly. That led to my second awakening.”
Elonia was stunned.
She considered herself knowledgeable about theology for a Sword Mage, but awakening, divine power… it was all unfamiliar territory.
An apostle was a human granted a portion of a god’s true power.
‘But Mother never used apostle powers.’
She had never even seen her use Holy Power. She hadn’t known apostles could be like this.
A glimmer of hope began to shine. Hope that they could finally defeat Tristan.
Lucius, as if sensing her thoughts, smiled and held out his hand.
“Shall we go then?”
“Where?”
To kill Tristan already? Just as Elonia reached for her weapon, Lucius quickly shook his head.
“To heal His Majesty.”
Elonia stopped, her hand hovering over her subspace.
“You can heal Dad?”
Neither the court physician nor the High Priest had been able to heal Artius.
Lucius conjured Holy Power, his eyes crinkling.
“Yes. With this power, I should be able to heal His Majesty.”
The chimera that injured Artius was created by Tristan, not a god.
And the power Lucius possessed was divine power.
Elonia’s heart pounded wildly.