Chapter 133
“God has finally looked upon Hebaton with favor.”
“The prince is truly the hope and light of Hebaton.”
“The cardinal himself will personally guide the prince! What joyous news…”
“Remil, my proud son.”
“If it weren’t for the prince, what would have become of us? Truly, it’s all thanks to him.”
The pouring voices mingled chaotically.
Voices of various colors tangled and intertwined, eventually turning into a muddy black like haphazardly mixed paints.
In the darkness, Remil cried out alone.
“I want to stop.”
But there was no reply.
Remil pleaded again.
“It’s too hard… I want to quit now.”
“I really can’t go on. It hurts…”
Words that no one heard scattered into the empty darkness.
As always.
“…”
Awakening from the dream, Remil wiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand.
Ever since his talent for divine power was revealed, he had shuttled between Hilderd and Hebaton for education.
He had been coming and going to the Holy Empire since a childhood he could barely remember, so it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call Hilderd his second home.
Yet Remil could never think of Hilderd as home.
With small hands, he clutched the blanket tightly, wrinkling it.
‘I want to go back to Hebaton…’
He knew full well that even if he returned, he wouldn’t be welcomed.
What the Hebaton royal family wanted from Remil was for him to rise to a high position in the Holy Empire.
They hoped he would succeed Cardinal Milliord and become a cardinal himself.
He should be striving even harder, yet here he was with such weak thoughts.
Remil thought of the expectations the Kingdom of Hebaton placed on him, and his mother’s fervent wish for him to become the next Holy King.
“My son, Remil. I want to see you standing above all others. Mother believes it’s entirely possible.”
He steeled his resolve and briskly wiped away his tears.
Sniffling, Remil got out of bed, opened the window, and let the cool outside air hit his face.
‘But if I win at the Little Saints’ Prayer Assembly…’
Then maybe things would change a little.
He didn’t know what or how, but he just wanted to think that way.
If he didn’t cling to even a futile hope, enduring each day would be too hard.
Especially the ‘education’—he hated it so much.
It was absolutely necessary for someone as woefully inadequate as him, and he should be grateful that the Holy King was paying him special attention…
“…Hic.”
Remil swallowed the rising tears again and bravely began his day.
He dressed neatly and stepped out to offer his morning prayers.
In the Hebaton palace, there would have been attendants, but in Hilderd, Remil held no official position, so he had to fend for himself.
It was while he was hurrying alone toward the prayer room, taking quick steps.
To get there faster, he chose a different path than usual, passing through the courtyard, when Remil’s eyes widened.
A man with dazzling silver hair stood in the garden.
‘It’s Sir Hailon!’
Remil gazed at him with eyes full of admiration.
The living proof of divinity.
The one who wields the ‘Chains of Condemnation,’ which had long sought its master—the possessor of the greatest divine power in the history of the Holy Empire of Hilderd.
He had risen to the position of First Order Holy Knight solely on his own merit.
Remil thought that someday, he too wanted to be called a proof of divinity like Hailon.
As he looked at Hailon with respect, something strange caught his eye.
Hailon was holding a flower.
It seemed plucked from somewhere, a stemless bloom unlike any flower Remil had seen in the Holy Empire.
‘It looks like it was just picked.’
The flower, brimming with moisture, was so beautiful it seemed it would never wilt.
Hailon lowered his long eyelashes and quietly gazed down at the flower in his hand.
His steady gaze was almost blind devotion.
As if that flower were his god…
‘Ugh!’
He had unwittingly thought something so blasphemous.
Now he had one more thing to atone for during today’s prayers.
Remil hid behind a pillar and lightly slapped his own cheek.
‘Come to think of it, Sir Hailon is Cheshire’s escort knight. Temporarily, at least.’
Hailon and Cheshire seemed close.
The icy holy knight always melted for the tiny baby.
‘…Me too.’
Remil bit his lip.
He remembered the baby winking at him with one eye.
‘I want to get close too…’
Sometimes, the power inside his body felt really strange.
Whenever that happened, Remil would lose his memory.
He’d fall into a brief darkness, and when he woke, a chunk of memory would be gone, as if cut out.
There had been a moment when it almost happened again.
It was when he displayed his divine power in front of the Basilian siblings, on Cardinal Milliord’s orders.
‘But Cheshire stopped it.’
The soft, warm energy infused by those small hands.
It had been ecstatic, like being in the midst of a splendid flower field.
If not for Cheshire, he would have ended up with another unpleasant blank in his memory.
“…Gasp!”
Remil, who had been blushing while thinking of Cheshire, flinched in surprise.
Before he knew it, Hailon was looking at him.
“S-Sir Hailon. Good morning.”
Gathering his courage to greet him, those cold blue eyes indifferently swept over Remil.
He said shortly,
“You’re going to be late.”
“Ah!”
Morning prayer time was approaching.
“Th-thank you.”
Remil dashed past the courtyard in a hurry.
He ran diligently and arrived just in time for prayers.
“Remil!”
At the piercing voice, Remil’s shoulders jerked.
Cardinal Milliord, waiting in front of the prayer room, hurried over and grabbed his arm.
“Follow me.”
“Yes? But morning prayers…”
“This is no time for prayers. On the third prayer day, you must display your divine power.”
His small body was roughly dragged along.
Remil’s face turned pale.
Today was an ‘education’ day.
His heart raced, making it hard to breathe.
Remil gasped for air, trying to calm himself.
He was still far too lacking, an unfinished being.
He deserved to be educated.
That way, he could possess outstanding divine power like Hailon.
But even though his mind understood, every time he received education, Remil trembled in fear.
Biting his dry lips, he descended with Milliord into the temple’s basement.
The dim basement had an atmosphere completely opposite to the pristine temple above.
Walking along the underground passage that felt like a wine cellar, the damp and chilly air raised goosebumps on his skin.
After navigating the maze-like corridors, Remil arrived at the deepest space in the temple’s basement.
The wide, empty room was peculiarly all white.
It was covered floor to walls to ceiling with a mineral unique to Hilderd.
The sacred white mineral used to forge holy knights’ swords.
Surrounded by a mineral blessed by God, he should feel holiness.
Yet every time he came here, Remil felt an instinctive revulsion and nausea.
The strange blue patterns densely drawn on the floor contributed to his unease.
They weren’t patterns of the Holy Empire.
He had asked what they were once, but no one answered.
“Sit down at once.”
Following Milliord’s command, Remil sat in the center of the pattern.
As his skin touched the cold, icy stone, his already trembling body shook even more violently.
To find even a bit of warmth, Remil wrapped his arms around himself.
Milliord, now fully outside the pattern, saw this and clicked his tongue in disapproval.
Noticing the look, Remil eventually lowered his hands.
“Begin!”
Milliord commanded toward somewhere.
Wooong.
A deep, low sound echoed.
It came from the pattern on the floor.
The blue pattern began to turn red from the edges.
Confirming the color change, Milliord left.
“See you tomorrow.”
With those final words, thud, the iron door closed.
In the white space, only Remil was left alone.
“Haa, haa…”
Remil panted heavily, watching the red color approaching him.
He wanted to flee right away, but in this sealed place, there was no way out.
Driven to extreme tension, Remil was on the verge of fainting.
“Hi, Remi.”
With a refreshing floral scent, pink eyes filled his fading vision.
It was Cheshire Basilian.
