Chapter 220
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 220
Chapter Title: The Secret of the Violin
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*Crunch.*
The moment he took a light bite.
The chocolate coating shattered, revealing the pure white marshmallow inside.
The slightly firm chocolate and the soft, chewy marshmallow tangled on his tongue, melting sweetly.
Then, washing it down with warm milk tea chased the lingering sweetness down his throat, warming his body.
"Tata's crembo really is delicious. It's on the level of a cultural treasure."
Only after rinsing his mouth with tea did the white-haired girl finally speak, looking a bit revived.
Rimon nodded as he watched Aynsha.
"Seeing you enjoy it like that makes bringing it worthwhile."
"If you'd like, have some tea too. As thanks for bringing Tata's crembo. One... no, I'll even give you two."
As if making an exception just for him.
Rimon chuckled at Aynsha, who gulped down her saliva while pulling two crembo from the basket and holding them out.
"I'm good. Eat as much as you want."
Aynsha blinked blankly, never imagining someone would refuse Tata's crembo.
She hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth, then spoke again.
"Tata's crembo is really delicious. You'll regret it if you don't try at least one."
"Hm, is that so?"
Perhaps respecting her sincerity.
Rimon leaned in and took a bite straight from the crembo she held between her fingers.
He nodded in approval.
"Impressive... I thought it'd just be sweet, but the chocolate's bitterness balances perfectly with the cream."
Definitely worth bragging about.
Aynsha couldn't say a word as she watched Rimon calmly share his thoughts.
She just stared blankly, alternating between his lips and her own fingers, then her face flushed bright red.
Instead, it was Yuna Kyung who spoke up, her expression utterly displeased.
[...Team Leader, are you doing this on purpose?]
"What do you mean?"
[Wow, this old man lives up to the 'no-chin-ne' stereotype, pulling off outrageous stuff like taking candy from kids...]
Baffled by the incomprehensible remark for a moment.
Rimon brushed it off as her usual nonsense and turned back to Aynsha, asking bluntly.
"Now that you've filled your stomach a bit, care to explain?"
"I don't know. The crembo recipe is Tata's secret."
"...I meant why you're here."
"Oh, that. Easy."
Aynsha nodded.
She rose from the mat spread on the floor and spun around.
"Follow me. I'll explain on the way."
A short while later.
Leading the way down a dimly lit passage with a lamp in hand, Aynsha briefly explained how she'd ended up in Tartarus.
"I investigated the saint who made Ri's violin. I even went to the Muse Temple. But there were no records of the saint."
"I heard about that."
"It's strange. That shouldn't be possible."
It wasn't just the Muse Temple without records.
The White Dragon Clan's archives, which held detailed accounts of every god and denomination, had absolutely nothing on Muse's saint either.
As if someone had erased every trace from existence.
And as far as Aynsha knew, only one being could pull off such magical feats.
"You think a god intervened directly?"
"Most likely."
"Hmm. Then it was probably Muse herself. At least she turned a blind eye to it."
Rimon nodded.
Unless it was a god who could directly manipulate providence, even a saint or grand witch couldn't erase the White Dragon Clan's records.
One problem remained.
Why would Muse wipe her own saint's records?
"To find out why, I searched the Muse Church's archives myself. And I found a suspicious record."
"Suspicious record?"
"A record of the Muse Church hiding something in Tartarus."
Of course, that alone wasn't unusual.
As Rimon had called it the Holy Alliance's dumping ground, Tartarus was stuffed with every denomination's curses and scandals.
But if the Muse Church's use of Tartarus coincided with the saint's records vanishing?
That was plenty suspicious.
"So you came straight here from the Muse Temple to check it out?"
"Yes."
"But you triggered something, demons came swarming out, and now you can't escape even if you wanted to?"
Rimon nodded.
That's why he could take them down so easily.
Each of those six demons had power comparable to a demigod or lesser god.
Plus Tartarus's curse meant they revived almost immediately after death, so even Aynsha must have been stuck here for days.
"Half right, half wrong."
"Why half?"
"I didn't touch anything. I'm innocent. Pure victim."
"...So no traps triggered, no curses stirred, and yet six ancient demons came bursting out one after another?"
"Yes. Totally bizarre."
Rimon wore a peculiar expression.
Even in Tartarus, demons didn't overrun the place.
Most were either felled in battles with dragons or lay in pieces from Rimon's hunts of fallen gods, yet to revive.
So six powerful demons appearing all at once was undeniably weird.
'Because of dragon blood?'
The most plausible guess was Aynsha herself triggering Tartarus's curse.
Tartarus was a fortress against dragons, and dragons had slain the demons who were once gods. It made sense they'd go berserk.
Aynsha added one thing as Rimon nodded in agreement.
"And I wasn't unable to leave. I just didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see."
With her curt words, Aynsha stopped before a door.
It bore Muse's emblem and layers of seals—now broken—and she flung it open without hesitation.
The moment he saw inside.
Rimon narrowed his eyes.
"...I see."
A bizarre room lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves like a library.
A few White Dragon clansmen looked up from books and scrolls, greeting Aynsha politely. Rimon nodded.
Their presence was expected.
The White Dragon Princess wouldn't wander alone without at least minimal guards and attendants.
What mattered were the documents they were reviewing.
"The missing saint's records were hidden here? That's why you haven't left Tartarus, investigating all this time?"
"Yes. It was extremely tough."
Aynsha nodded blankly.
Finding this sealed secret room based on the Muse Church records wasn't hard.
The problem was the sheer volume of material—and the demons.
The six demons kept attacking relentlessly, forcing Aynsha to repel them multiple times herself.
"But I foresaw Ri coming to slay the demons. So I held out stubbornly and kept investigating."
"Must've been rough."
For a moment, he nodded at Aynsha, who beamed proudly with her whole body, as if begging for praise for her efforts.
Then Rimon asked suddenly.
"Why didn't you call for backup? Bringing in the Divine Dragon Corps would've let you crush the demons without waiting for me."
"...!"
"...Never mind, I get it."
As if she hadn't foreseen that future.
Rimon sighed at Aynsha, her blank face twitching with pupil earthquake.
'The White Dragon Clan stays true to form.'
Aynsha suffered needlessly because her foresight showed no issues, and her attendants didn't call for aid just because the princess said so.
Gazing sympathetically at them—so characteristically White Dragon Clan—Rimon asked bluntly.
"So, what did you find?"
"...Of course I did."
She sulked briefly over her needless hardship.
But deciding to wash away the shame with results, Aynsha extended a hand.
She took a parchment scroll from a White Dragon clansman and walked deeper into the secret room, continuing.
"The reason Muse hid all records of the saint here is clear. It's the church's scandal."
"The saint was the scandal?"
"Yes."
Saints were the pinnacle of priesthood.
Alongside grand witches, they ruled the Silver Age as absolutes—figures any denomination would proudly pass down as greats.
Of course, that made apostasy or corruption an even greater disgrace.
One incomprehensible point.
"Didn't that saint make this violin and then kill herself? Hardly scandalous if she couldn't do much."
"Correct. The records confirm the saint remained a devout Muse follower and priest until death."
It was natural.
She'd devoted her life solely to offering beautiful music to Muse, crafting a divine artifact.
And with fanatic faith strong enough to suicide over failure, she wouldn't betray her beliefs.
"At least in life."
"...In life?"
At that moment.
Rimon furrowed his brow.
He caught the subtle implication in her words.
Guiding him deeper, Aynsha explained calmly.
"The trouble started after the saint's death."
Though suicide ended her life, she'd lived devoutly.
Muse's doctrine had no suicide taboo, so the church mourned her tragically and planned a grand funeral.
If not for the eerie events at the temple.
Prayer voices from empty chapels.
Faint ghostly figures at night.
Objects moving on their own.
The Muse Church flipped out over the temple hauntings. After thorough investigation, they uncovered the culprit...
The answer was chillingly simple.
"The saint became a ghost and appeared? So the church panicked and sealed all her records?"
"Yes."
Perhaps too absurd.
Aynsha spun around as Rimon's face hardened.
She pointed curtly at the deepest part of the secret room.
A small stone coffin and an empty spot beside it.
"This isn't some secret archive. It's a tomb sealing the saint's corpse and a cursed divine artifact."
"...I have a feeling I know what that artifact is."
"Correct."
Aynsha unrolled the scroll in her hand.
She pointed to a drawing of a pitch-black violin—terribly familiar to Rimon—and quietly concluded.
"Ri, your violin was originally buried here with the saint as a grave good."
Rimon unconsciously pressed his temple.
Not a priest or mage, but he'd seen countless funerals over long years.
And as far as he knew, there was only one reason to bury a cursed grave good with a ghost-haunted tomb.
"...In short, that saint's ghost is possessing my violin?"