Chapter 82
Chapter 82
Chapter 82.
The original copies of the forbidden texts could not be destroyed by any means. Even if torn to shreds or burned to ashes, they would eventually restore themselves.
But the Azure Flame was different.
The blue fire was thoroughly erasing the history of disgrace.
The priests of the Round Table watched the conflagration in stunned silence.
Grand Archbishop Zirhayen shot up from his seat. Archbishop Garian of the Grand Diocese stammered something incoherent. The six cardinals either froze stiff or turned deathly pale, each reacting in their own way. The heads of the sacred families were no different.
Though all thirty members of the Round Table were paralyzed with shock, Zeras could clearly detect a subtle undercurrent in their expressions.
Even in their panic, there was a hint of relief—after all, the authority of the Church would remain unshaken forever. The eyes of the Flame Demon missed none of these emotions.
Zeras walked toward the Round Table and spoke slowly.
"We are sinners. We have worshipped not the Sun itself, but a false idol adorned with twisted values. I am no exception."
His expression darkened.
"The gods are not perfect."
Wrestle with your torment. The voice of the divine had clearly commanded them to reconsider their faith.
Until now, he had believed without question that the gods were absolute. Every contradiction, every injustice, was merely a trial—even the current phenomenon was to be accepted as a test.
Thus, he had followed without ever questioning. While the others gathered at the Round Table to bind their wounds, Zeras alone had acknowledged Aiden.
Because he had believed even this was a task bestowed by the gods.
But it wasn't. The gods truly desired Aiden. They demanded that the shameful history be burned away.
Wrestle with your torment.
That single revelation had led to this interpretation.
Serve the god of anguish and confront the conflict within yourself.
The dilemma was simple. Was it right to expose their disgrace? He had rationalized it as religious schism, but in truth, he simply couldn't bear to face it himself.
The one who had failed to worship the Sun itself was none other than himself. He had merely convinced himself that he was different.
The gods commanded that he not turn away from his struggle. And the moment he interpreted it as such, the Azure Flame had clung to the forbidden texts.
Only then did Zeras understand the will of the gods.
I am no different from you—ashamed, tormented, and conflicted.
The Sun, who had prostrated himself at the feet of the Demon God to beg for humanity's survival, finally seeped clearly into his heart.
The gods were not perfect. And that was what made them beautiful. At least, that was how Zeras felt.
His gaze swept over the bewildered priests as he spoke.
"The ones who will perfect the two gods are none other than ourselves."
The Grand Archbishop scowled.
"The gods are singular and absolute. To speak of them as two is to diminish them. Watch your tongue, Inquisitor."
The Flame Demon shook his head.
"Do not distort the divine revelation any longer. The Sun seeks to correct His mistakes—we need only obey."
The Grand Archbishop slammed his fist on the table.
"Mistakes?! You dare blaspheme the gods! An omnipotent being does not err!"
Zeras met his gaze squarely.
"Do you truly believe that?"
"What?"
The Flame Demon's eyes flickered.
"Are you not deluding yourself with the justification of survival and pragmatism?"
In truth, it wasn't even self-delusion. They already knew the truth—they simply couldn't reveal it. For them, the Church was an institution they had a duty to protect.
Zeras continued without pause.
"At the very least, the Sacred Council must acknowledge the contradiction. Though we cannot reveal it to all, we must share our true convictions among ourselves. This era is the starting point where we perfect the gods."
Tegan, who had remained silent until now, slowly spoke.
"Inquisitor, these words do not align with your usual religious stance."
Zeras nodded.
"I have let go of everything. Until the gods are perfected, I am prepared to discard anything. And once my wish is fulfilled, this Flame Demon's fire will consume me."
And it wouldn't stop there—it would burn every priest at the Round Table along with him.
Zeras' eyes calmly swept over them before he took his seat and spoke again.
"Now, let us begin the proper discussion."
### Vacheksar Empire, Imperial Palace - First Princess's Chambers
As usual, Princess Raphelia began her day by reflecting on her own atrocities.
The records of the vanished First Prince—her brother, whom she had killed, yet could no longer even remember. The words on the page were all that remained.
For about an hour each day, she devoted herself to this time of repentance. No other thoughts intruded. She considered it the bare minimum of courtesy.
But lately, things had changed slightly.
Because now, aside from the Assassin-Saint of the Levana Grand Temple and the princess herself, there was one more person who knew of Prince Raphaile's existence.
Aiden la Valenstahl.
He now held the empire's darkest secret.
The princess had already received the report.
However, the Assassin-Saint had not disclosed how Aiden had come to the temple. There had been an agreement between them—in exchange for Aiden not revealing the imperial disgrace, he had promised not to mention the kumiho or Fenrir.
The Assassin-Saint had no choice but to comply.
And so, the princess found it difficult to shake her doubts. How had he known of that place? Why had he taken the coffin? And what reason did he have for declaring he would conceal her sin?
He must want something. But she couldn't pinpoint exactly what.
Still, she had stopped sending him summons. She judged that he would come to her on his own.
The princess glanced at the clock before her. Her hour of repentance was nearly over. Lately, she had been too preoccupied with her thoughts, but regardless—
Right on cue, heavy footsteps echoed outside the door.
The princess smiled faintly in amusement.
A knock followed.
"Your Highness, it is Knight Geybol."
"Enter."
The door to her study opened. Her knight bowed in salute.
"I greet Her Highness."
The princess rested her chin on her hand and studied him, a trace of amusement in her gaze.
"You're as punctual as ever."
"How could I be otherwise? Please change your attire."
It was time for her morning audience—to visit the ailing emperor in his sickbed and pay respects to the empress.
"Not today. I feel unwell, and I fear I might spread illness to His Majesty."
"Then, at least to Her Majesty the Empress—"
The princess cut him off with a laugh.
"You don't spare a thought for my condition?"
The knight lowered his head.
"I failed to consider it."
"Enough. Sit down. Since we have time, let's talk for once."
The princess rose and moved to a pristine white sofa, reclining against the backrest.
Her crimson hair spilled over the pale leather, the stark contrast making her presence all the more vivid.
She crossed her legs and gestured to the seat opposite.
"Come."
The knight bowed once more before sitting.
The princess spoke first.
"How are the preparations coming along?"
Soon, they would depart for the Kingdom of Trapelga—to break the Demon God's curse that bound the imperial family.
"Within the next year, you will achieve your long-cherished wish."
The princess exhaled softly.
"'Wish'—be precise."
There were two.
Freedom from the curse. And ascending the throne.
The curse was directly tied to why the imperial family's firstborns were born incomplete. And the moment that chain was broken, the princess would seize the right of succession—acknowledged by the gods themselves.
Thus, the two wishes were intertwined.
The knight answered.
"You will sit upon the throne."
"And?"
"The rest is merely the process to reach it."
The princess's gaze grew slightly heavier.
"So that's how you saw it."
"Your Highness has not elaborated, so I had no other basis for judgment."
She tapped the armrest with her fingertips.
"Are you asking for an explanation?"
"For your sake, elites have gathered from across the land. As the plan nears, it is time to give them a cause."
Raphelia's lips curled faintly.
"You're unusually talkative today. I'm curious—what is your stance? Would you follow me even if I remained silent?"
"My oath remains unchanged."
"Recite it."
The knight immediately knelt.
"Dawn that swallows the dark, descendant of the Sun, the most rightful—"
The princess listened quietly. Not a single word differed from the vow he had sworn in the past.
"Enough."
The knight fell silent. The princess looked down at him.
"I'm bored. Stop it."
When no response came, she narrowed her eyes slightly.
"I said, take off the mask."
The knight slowly raised his knee. Then, he gripped his own hair—and tore it away.
Aiden stood there.
Their gazes met in the air. Neither was surprised. Aiden spoke first.
"I greet Her Highness."
His voice had returned to normal.
"Where is Geybol?"
"With the Saintess. He is unharmed, so do not worry."
It had been a lifelike mask crafted by Gort. The knight had been anesthetized during the process, and Yuriel's healing had followed, so there would be no lasting harm. He would only need to regrow his hair and eyebrows.
Aiden felt slightly guilty, but there had been no other choice.
He continued.
"Though I must say, you're sharp."
The princess had known from the start. The rhythm of his footsteps had been different, and the eyes that met hers had not been those of the same man.
She hadn't been entirely certain who it was, but she had a rough idea.
After all, there were only so many people who would need to infiltrate the imperial palace in such a manner.
The princess smirked.
"I read about it in the scriptures. You did the same when infiltrating the duchy, didn't you? Garush, was it?"
For a moment, Aiden was confused—then it vaguely came back to him. The sadistic nobleman of the duchy who had delighted in torture.
"Garvue, Your Highness."
"Ah, Garvue. Hearing that worm scream was refreshing, but now it's just unpleasant."
"I will formally apologize to Sir Geybol."
The princess gestured for him to sit.
Once Aiden did, she spoke again.
"So, why have you come?"
There were many trivial reasons, but ultimately, it was to make the princess emperor.
In the process, he needed to gauge her intentions, assist her plans, and tighten the leash around her.
Aiden had actually planned to impersonate Geybol for several days, waiting for the princess to speak of the curse herself.
Of course, he knew more about it than she did—but to discuss the subject, the taboo had to be lifted first.
But things had gone slightly awry. He had been discovered before he could even listen.
Still, he was satisfied.
The princess didn't seem hostile, and she appeared ready to talk.
She was exactly the woman he had known.
Aiden spoke.
"I've come to help you. You may have your own plans, but you can discard them all."
Even the elite forces she had gathered would not be needed this time.
He continued without pause.
"If you follow me now, you will sit upon the throne not next year—but immediately."
The princess wore an odd smile.
"This is strange. Weren't you trying to pry information from me? That implies you don't know my plans, yet now you act as if you do."
Aiden nodded.
"Think of it as similar to the Levana Grand Temple. I knew of that as well. But I cannot speak of it—my own circumstances. More importantly, what will you do?"
The princess laughed as if exasperated.
"Are you always this unreasonable?"
"Usually, yes."