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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 41: The Name of the Morning Star (2)
A suffocating tension enveloped Historia's entire being.
Verheim was cold.
As if nothing had happened—or as if it didn’t matter.
But anyone who wasn’t a fool could tell.
“Shall we have a talk?”
He wasn’t truly ignorant.
Historia pretended to be calm.
“Sure.”
“Follow me.”
And so she followed Verheim.
* * *
The place they arrived at was the chapel.
Neither of them spoke a word on the way there.
Historia looked at Verheim’s back as he stopped in front of the pulpit.
Was it a blessing that she couldn’t see his expression?
As she pondered that thought, he spoke.
“Where have you been?”
“Just out for a walk. I had a lot on my mind.”
“So, you’ve got worries. You said before you didn’t.”
“How can anyone live without worries? It’s nothing serious.”
It was a normal conversation.
A peace as precarious as walking on frozen blades.
Anxiety began to swell within Historia.
It was in that moment.
“This reminds me of the past.”
“…What?”
“Our childhood. I was not even five then.”
“Ah…”
Historia’s gaze flickered.
Soon, a faint smile touched her lips.
“…I was seven. Yes, it was like this back then, too.”
The saint and the saintess grow up in the Holy See.
At that time, she had only recently been designated the saintess, and Verheim had just received his divine blessing.
They were both inexperienced.
Back then, everything was new and fun for Historia.
But not for Verheim.
—Hwee-ing…
As a child, he struggled to adapt to the sudden change.
He feared the reverent stares of others and would cry.
On such days, Historia would secretly bring him here at night.
They shared many conversations, and their little escapade would end when Verheim finally smiled.
That memory washed over Historia’s heart.
“You said you wanted to be an adventurer.”
“That was childhood talk.”
“You said you’d uncover the mysteries of the Sacred and become a hero. Do you remember?”
“I remember. I’m still curious about the Sacred.”
“I supported that.”
“Yes, you told me to leave the Holy See to you. That fate would be on my side.”
“Right.”
But why, then…
The question stuck in her throat.
That sense of wrongness soon turned into sorrow.
“…We’ve both changed a lot.”
The child who smiled gently and yearned for mystery was gone.
Now, all she saw from his back was a shadow.
No—perhaps it was because it was his back that she could still see only a shadow.
When he turned his head, Historia felt a sharp ache in her chest.
“Is that the reason?”
Verheim’s face twisted in rage.
“Is that the reason you’ve gotten cozy with the Crown Prince?”
His voice, like the growl of a beast, pierced her ears.
“What did he say? That I’m mad? That I’m up to something vile? Ria, do you believe that?”
It was certainty.
Historia tried not to be surprised.
Of course. Just as she had investigated Verheim, he must’ve done the same to her.
Seen from that context, this was entirely understandable.
‘I should have been more careful.’
…No, even if she had been, she likely couldn’t have escaped Verheim’s eyes.
The Holy See was already in his grasp.
“Ver…”
Historia spoke earnestly.
“Why did it come to this?”
She was sad.
Just… deeply, overwhelmingly sad.
The rising sense of guilt soon turned into regret.
She should’ve watched over him more closely.
Perhaps he still needed someone’s guiding hand.
But it seemed her heart no longer reached him.
“Answer me. What did you talk about?”
Historia clenched her fist tightly.
Her voice grew more pleading.
“Ver, please come to your senses.”
Historia wanted to believe.
If he still remembered their childhood, maybe there was hope.
Maybe he could pull himself out of the abyss.
“She’s a demon, Ver. Rebecca is a demon.”
Historia took a step forward.
She reached out her hand.
She didn’t want to let go of that sliver of hope.
But—
“I know.”
And just like that, it was gone.
Historia stopped breathing.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Words of despair spilled from her lips.
“…What?”
“I said I know. That she’s a demon. What do you take me for? I’m an apostle of fate. I am one blessed by the divine.”
He was calm.
That calmness was utterly chilling.
Her face twisted in horror.
Verheim continued.
“That’s why I needed the forbidden text. Does that answer your question?”
“…What are you trying to say?”
“Ria, you told me you hoped things would go well between me and her.”
Verheim’s gloom deepened.
“Then help me. I intend to ‘heal’ her.”
Historia barely held back a scoff.
But the words that followed made even that difficult.
“I’m conducting research on species transformation. If the problem is that she’s a demon, then shouldn’t we just make her not one? I can do it. With the results of the forbidden text and the divine blessing I carry, surely…”
“Ver…”
“…Just a bit more. It’s almost complete. Only the final tuning remains.”
“Please…”
She shut her eyes tightly.
And in that moment, she realized.
What had gone wrong.
What he had misunderstood.
It was horrifying.
The demon’s corruption truly twisted something fundamental and ruined people.
Historia felt her insides rot as she asked:
“…Ver, do you really think that’s possible? Truly?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Why would he think it’s possible?
Demons aren’t a species—they’re spiritual entities.
They’re not an infection that can be healed.
That should be obvious.
So how could he believe otherwise?
And with that realization, Historia knew.
“…Ah. You’re beyond saving.”
Sorrow twisted her expression.
She looked at him.
Regret washed over her once again.
“You don’t intend to stop, do you?”
“You don’t intend to help me, do you?”
“I can’t. Because I know it’s wrong.”
“Then will you stand in my way? You, against me?”
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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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“Yes. I will.”
She reached for her communicator.
Verheim’s eyes narrowed.
But Historia’s hand did not stop.
Beep—
The communicator sent out a wave of mana that swiftly left the chapel.
“The prince and Lord Pharos are on their way here. You can’t do anything anymore.”
She had no foolish plans to resolve this alone.
Historia always looked on the bright side, but she wasn’t blind to reality.
Verheim let out a low sigh.
As if none of this really mattered.
“Then I suppose I’ll just gather my research and leave. Rebecca doesn’t seem to be in the capital—I’ll have to find her.”
“You can’t go.”
“I can go.”
“No, I won’t let that happen.”
I would buy time.
At least until Yuren and Callios arrived.
To that, Verheim responded:
“Ria, I never wanted to hurt you.”
He formed a sign with his hands.
But instead of divine energy, a different force began to emanate from him.
Historia stared blankly at the dark purple magic.
“Blossom.”
Fwoooosh—!
The energy surged toward Historia.
But—
“……”
Nothing happened.
Verheim raised an eyebrow.
Historia let out a deep breath and said:
“The tea you gave me. I knew it was a trap.”
Her voice sank with regret.
“Do you know why I let it happen? Because I had the power to stop it. And because I hoped you wouldn’t actually go that far.”
The moment she drank the tea, she realized something was wrong.
She gathered the divine energy within her and sealed it inside her body.
That’s why the trap didn’t reach her.
And yet, Historia couldn’t bring herself to smile.
“So this is how far you’ve come, Verheim.”
Ssshhh—
Golden divine energy wrapped around Historia’s body.
It was faint, but undeniably unwavering—the divine light of hope.
Verheim looked annoyed.
“You’re really forcing my hand.”
He tried to unleash his power.
But even that could not intimidate Historia.
She raised her arm.
Piiing—!
Divine Law No. 7, Divine Spear.
A golden flash grazed Verheim’s cheek in a straight line.
His eyes widened.
Historia said:
“What? Surprised? Because the blessing didn’t protect you? Verheim, how long are you going to keep deluding yourself?”
Wasn’t it obvious?
Even Verheim had forgotten it.
Historia felt a pang of sympathy for him.
“When was the last time you even used a blessing?”
“…!”
A god does not grant blessings to those who no longer believe.
Blessings are borrowed power—they can always be taken away.
For the first time, Verheim showed raw emotion.
“…You damn bitch.”
It was fury.
KWAANG—!
Red divine energy engulfed Verheim’s body.
The ground beneath his feet began to crack with a thunderous noise.
The intensity of his power was enough to suffocate.
“No blessing? Doesn’t matter. I still have divinity. That’s something fate can’t take away.”
“I know. It’s innate.”
“Which is why, Ria, you will never defeat me. Hope has always been a mirage before fate.”
He knew that, too.
It was why the balance between fate and hope had never shifted in the last thousand years.
A god that truly exists, versus one whose existence is uncertain.
Wasn’t the difference obvious?
But there was something Verheim didn’t know.
With a sorrowful sense of inevitability, she began to summon her power.
The radiance swelled.
It expanded beyond her surroundings—beyond space itself, engulfing the entire Papal Palace.
Faced with that immeasurable divine force, Verheim’s expression hardened.
Historia glared at him.
“Verheim, remember this.”
What is hope?
From the moment she found the answer to that question, hope was no longer a mirage to her.
“Hope shines brightest when fate is at its cruelest.”
Her hair turned a brilliant gold.
Her pupils vanished from her eyes.
A holy halo rose behind her.
A power nearing that of divine authority swept through the space.
And then—
THOOM—!
A golden judgment fell from the sky, tearing through the chapel’s ceiling.
Dust scattered like a storm, and when it cleared, Verheim stood in a crimson veil.
He scowled.
“So divine power isn’t your limit. Are you planning to burn your life away?”
“If that’s what it takes to stop you.”
It was a sin she hadn't foreseen.
She had been so close, yet failed to stop it.
So she would bear the responsibility herself.
That would be the only atonement.
Tears streamed down Historia’s cheeks.
She smiled sadly and said:
“Let’s die together, Verheim.”
Once again, divine power surged.
* * *
The communication signal came just as I arrived at the mansion and entered my room.
I was immediately struck with confusion—this wasn’t the time for it to go off.
‘Why now?’
It couldn’t be a mistake.
This thing doesn’t go off by accident.
Was something wrong?
Had the secret meeting been exposed?
Or did Historia act out on her own?
There wasn’t even time to think.
—L-Light…!
The distant uproar of the mansion rang in my ears, and moments later, a golden flash shone through the curtain’s gap.
I rushed to pull the curtain open.
What I saw was a single beam of light, like a bolt of lightning, descending from the sky.
The direction was…
‘…The Papal Palace.’
The moment I realized it—
Crash!
There was no time left for hesitation.
I bolted toward the Papal Palace.
My heart pounded with dread.
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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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