Chapter 214
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 214
Chapter Title: Tartarus
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The strongest in the Seven Dragon Society was the Gold Dragon Princess.
Likewise, the most threatening enemy had always been the Black Dragon Princess, while the most annoying and persistent foe across generations was the Azure Dragon Princess.
The hardest to kill was the Verdant Dragon Princess, the most exhausting to deal with was the Crimson Dragon Princess, and the most distasteful to even associate with was the Silver Dragon Princess.
But who was the trickiest one to catch?
Rimon could declare it without hesitation.
The White Dragon Princess.
With her precognitive abilities, playing a game of hide-and-seek against someone from the White Dragon Clan—who had unparalleled crisis detection—was no easy task.
Just look at her record of evading him for centuries.
'What kind of joke is this?'
That was why.
The moment Rimon heard that Aynsha had gone missing, that was his first thought.
But even he had to admit now that it wasn't a joke.
"She went to the Muse Temple to settle things and still hasn't come back?"
"Yes."
"And all contact has been completely cut off?"
"That's correct."
Rimon furrowed his brow.
After assigning Aynsha to investigate the Muse Saint—the origin of the Heartblack Violin.
It had already been several days since he'd heard she'd personally gone to the temple to confront the uncooperative Muse Church.
And now, no contact since then.
This was nothing short of a genuine disappearance.
"But why are you so calm about this?"
"Because Tata foresaw that you would safely bring Her Highness back."
"...Then it's not a disappearance, is it?"
"The future aside, right now we don't know where she is, and there's no contact. So yes, it is a disappearance."
The woman in flowing, ethereal robes answered his question with unflinching confidence.
Rimon shook his head as he looked at Tata—elder of the White Dragon Clan, and Aynsha's attendant and nursemaid.
'This is why the White Dragon Clan is like this.'
Any other clan would have been in an uproar the day their princess vanished, but here they were, utterly nonchalant because their foresight showed her safe.
It was exasperating.
But also fortunate.
If Aynsha had foreseen something ominous, the White Dragon Clan would have stormed the Muse Temple by now and massacred everyone.
"So, according to your foresight, I'm the one who finds your missing idiot princess and brings her back, which is why you contacted me?"
"Yes."
"Tch. What do they say at the Muse Temple?"
Tsking his tongue, Rimon first checked for any clues about Aynsha's whereabouts.
If contact had suddenly been lost during what should have been a simple temple visit, something was clearly wrong.
"They say they don't know what happened after Her Highness left."
"And?"
"That's it."
"...You didn't do any further investigation?"
"Of course not."
Why bother investigating when Rimon would handle it anyway?
Rimon fell silent at Tata's brazen response, while Yuna Kyung muttered in disbelief.
[I've thought this before, but the White Dragon Clan's way of thinking is truly fantastical...]
'This isn't fantastical; it's just idiotic,' he wanted to say.
For a moment, he considered ditching the whole missing person nonsense and leaving.
But in the end, Rimon sighed and spoke.
"Then I guess we start by checking the Muse Temple."
Regretting his decision to assign the task to Aynsha of all people, but resolved to find her nonetheless, Rimon turned on his heel.
That was when a basket was suddenly thrust before him.
"...What's this?"
"Tata's homemade cream puffs. I added milk tea and lemonade as well."
"Why are you giving this to me?"
"Her Highness has been missing for days, so she's probably been skimping on meals. Please pass it along when you see her."
"..."
[...]
In the heart of Jerusalem.
A beautiful woman in the towering Muse Temple there was racking her brains.
'What do I do about this?'
Lact let out a sigh.
Unlike her youthful appearance, she was in her seventies. As high priestess, she'd skillfully led the Muse Temple for years based on vast experience.
But this time, even she couldn't find an easy solution.
"Muse, please watch over and protect your faithful."
In the end, like a true priestess, Lact resorted to prayer to navigate the crisis.
But moments later,
she had no choice but to abandon her prayer.
"You insolent...! Gah!"
"You bastard, aren't you afraid of divine punishment, guk!"
"Wait! Let's talk, talk it out, grk!"
The temple suddenly grew rowdy, and hearing the successive screams from outside, Lact's eyes flashed with fury.
'Heretics?'
Such disturbances weren't uncommon in the Sacred Federation.
In Jerusalem—where even gods brawled over excessive holiness due to overflowing divinity—religious conflicts were routine.
But even so, it depended on the church.
For the Muse Temple, a power in the Sacred Federation, this kind of riot was unprecedented in over a decade. Lact was enraged.
That was why, kicking open the door to the prayer room, she bellowed the moment she saw the intruder.
Bam!
"Tch, these damn fools. Talking about the will of the gods or whatever, they never listen, same as always."
"You scum! Who dares riot in the sacred Muse Templ iiiiiik!"
But the next instant,
Lact paled in horror.
The young priests guarding outside might not have recognized him, but as someone born in the Heroes' Age, she identified the intruder instantly.
"Ri, Rimon Asfelder?!"
White hair, scar by the eye, sword at the waist.
Unmistakable features.
Rimon didn't flinch at Lact's ghost-like gasp.
He simply strode forward, stopping right before her, tilting his head cockily in a nonchalant pose, and opened his mouth.
"You're the one?"
"No!"
"...Do you even know what I'm asking before saying no?"
"Anyway, no! Our Muse Church is a clean, moral religion certified by the Sacred Federation! We don't do human sacrifices, adultery, or drugs!"
An instinctive honorific slipped out.
Embarrassing for a high priestess over seventy, but unavoidable.
Her opponent was a millennia-old monster.
Especially since Lact had grown up in an era when, as a young acolyte, they'd scared crying kids with tales of the Sword Duke coming to slaughter corrupt churches.
Rimon frowned at the nostalgic reaction and pressed on.
"Forget that crap. Did you meet Aynsha last or not?"
"...Why are you asking about the White Dragon Princess?"
Even amid her panic, Lact instinctively grew wary.
Well aware of Rimon's old notoriety, she knew all about his grudge with the Seven Dragon Society.
Rimon replied coldly.
"Cut the chatter. Yes or no. Did you or didn't you?"
"Th-that's..."
Lact's pupils shook, torn between the White Dragon Princess—one of the Muse Church's top patrons—and the Sword Duke before her.
Rimon made her choice easier.
"Should I ask your goddess directly?"
"Yes, it was me! I saw her last! So please, spare our goddess!"
At that moment,
Lact prostrated herself immediately.
Not just from the threat.
The moment Rimon spoke, the Muse statue she'd been praying to began trembling violently.
Humans might forget what happened to gods and corrupt churches that defied Rimon in the past.
But the gods remembered vividly.
Thanks to her voluntary cooperation, Rimon got straightforward answers.
"You really don't know where the idiot princess went?"
"I can swear it on our goddess!"
"Hm, really?"
Rimon glanced sideways.
Instead of nodding, he eyed the Muse statue bobbing frantically like it was in an earthquake and asked again.
"Then let's try something else. Why did you dodge questions about the Muse Saint?"
"Well, we don't have any records either."
"You lost the records of a saint? Not some ordinary priest? Are you messing with me?"
Rimon was dumbfounded.
Blushing with shame yet desperately defending herself, Lact insisted,
"It's true! Not just me—the White Dragon Princess herself checked our temple archives directly, but found nothing."
"...Aynsha checked personally?"
Rimon narrowed his eyes.
Even in this Iron Age of decline compared to the Silver Age, a saint's status in any religion was weighty.
A saint was practically a god's proxy.
Missing records of one was more bizarre than erasing an entire nation's royal history.
Why would that happen?
Pondering briefly, Rimon decided to resolve it through deduction.
Shing!
"Kyaa?!"
Ignoring Lact's near-fainting expression,
Rimon drew his sword and strode to the statue, pressing the blade against it.
"Records might be gone, but a god's memory shouldn't be. Especially of a saint they blessed."
Looking at the statue frozen stiff like a sculpture, Rimon smirked coldly.
"What do you say? Want to test if I can behead this and kill you? Or will you spill it obediently?"
Spill about the saint,
or Aynsha's location.
Anything—or die.
The Muse statue trembled briefly,
then wept blood tears, writing a few characters in response.
【Τάρταρος】
"Tartarus?"
The moment he saw the letters,
Rimon furrowed his brow unwittingly.
Not because he didn't know why the Muse statue mentioned the Greek underworld.
Quite the opposite—he knew the implications all too well.
"...So the idiot princess is in that catacomb knockoff the Sacred Federation calls a dump?"
"As expected, the Sword Duke headed straight for the Sacred Federation, I take it."
"Yes."
"Good work, Chao."
"No, merely doing my duty."
On the top floor of the Hotel Leviathan.
Li Chingwei, processing paperwork in the penthouse as usual, smiled faintly at the reporting Wayling.
"You may go rest for today. The Guardians must have backlog piling up—you need at least a day off."
"...Thank you for your consideration."
Grateful for the kindness,
or depressed at the impending overtime hell.
Wayling replied in a subdued voice and melted into the shadows.
Gazing at the empty space she left behind for a moment, Li Chingwei sighed lightly and returned to her documents.
Or tried to.
Swish.
The air around her rippled faintly—or so it seemed—when a blade suddenly materialized at her throat.
"Starting with a sword out of nowhere? That's uncharacteristically rude of you."
A situation that would terrify even seasoned masters.
Yet Li Chingwei didn't flinch.
Instead, she lifted her head with a welcoming smile, as if greeting a pleasant guest.
Staring straight at the one who'd teleported in and pressed a sword to her neck, she called out their name.
"Rose."