—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Humans learn from their mistakes.
Of course, most humans repeat the same mistakes regardless.
Where did Ludmilla fall on this spectrum? The Imperial Princess displayed her usual composure, even as Edanant and Zebeline departed for the Sanctuary as if embarking on a honeymoon.
“The reconstruction of the Imperial Palace is finally complete.”
“The restoration of the fire-ravaged city streets is also proceeding smoothly.”
As the Imperial Capital gradually regained its vitality, the scars of the recent disaster began to heal. The scorched city walls and the domino-like collapse of buildings were being reversed, new structures rising from the ashes.
The situation was progressing smoothly.
Completion within the year seemed likely.
Shelter was needed for the citizens before the harsh winter arrived. Therefore, Ludmilla was busier than ever, personally overseeing the reconstruction efforts.
“Princess Ludmilla is remarkably composed. Unexpected, isn’t it?”
“Indeed. Edanant might have eloped with the Saintess, yet…”
“How long will she maintain this facade?”
“She’s playing the role of the heroine who’s eliminated early in the typical ‘wife-competition’ trope of these novels.”
The Imperial Princess was twenty-eight years old, a spinster.
In contrast, the Holy Kingdom’s First Saintess was a youthful maiden.
The odds were stacked against her.
Would the young lord of House Hohenberc, in his right mind, choose the stoic spinster over the youthful and charming maiden? Surely, he would choose the younger woman as his bride.
Ludmilla’s aides sighed as they watched their superior diligently attending to her duties. The Saintess was likely charming Edanant with her sweet demeanor, yet their Princess, who should be fighting for his affections, was engrossed in paperwork.
“Ahem!”
The Second Imperial Princess of the Valtarian Empire was one of the continent’s Seven Strongest.
And she had awakened as the Apostle of Tyranny.
Naturally, the whispers of her aides reached her ears as clearly as if they were shouting right beside her.
Unaware of the truth behind her departure to the Hohenberc marquisate, her aides were misunderstanding the situation. Ludmilla smiled serenely, ordering them to don full armor and run laps around the training grounds until sunset.
‘Edanant went to the Sanctuary to thwart the Holy Kingdom’s sinister plot. A love affair with that sly and uncouth Saintess? Preposterous!’
She had received the Hohenberc family’s wedding ring.
And they had promised to wed next spring.
Though the proposal had involved a rather… forceful exchange, it didn’t change the fact that he had proposed.
-I fail to understand your hesitation. If you desire something, take it. If someone defies you, kill them. Isn’t that simple enough, even for a child?
The monstrous voice of the Red Dragon echoed in her mind.
The full-length mirror adorned with gold trim reflected a horrifying visage.
Ever since her rampage in the Hohenberc marquisate, the monstrous voice, accompanied by the grotesque image, would occasionally appear whenever Ludmilla was lost in thought. The Calamity of Tyranny sought to seize control of Ludmilla’s body, its vessel.
“I warned you not to appear without my permission. If you continue this insolence, I will shatter every mirror in this palace.”
-An empty threat. Do you believe mirrors are the only vessels through which I can manifest?
“Your manifestation requires a vessel. Therefore, I will simply remove all potential vessels.”
-Hmm.
Ludmilla had won the argument.
The Calamity of Tyranny, faced with Ludmilla’s unwavering resolve, was forced to retreat.
“I am busy with official duties. I have no time for your childish games.”
-Childish games… How disappointing. I was merely going to share some good news.
She responded coldly.
The Calamity of Tyranny let out a meaningful chuckle, continuing its taunts.
-Famine has been resurrected. Finally freed from that wretched Earth Mother’s shackles.
“…What?”
Famine.
The Harmless Calamity sealed within Zebeline’s body had been resurrected.
Ludmilla was stunned by the shocking news, rising abruptly from her seat.
Disbelief was etched across her face. The Calamity of Tyranny cackled, relishing her reaction.
-Has that boy who embraced the Calamity of War awakened another Calamity? Truly remarkable. A most worthy apostle of the Harmless Calamity. Where did the Calamity of War even find such a vessel?
“Silence! Is it true that the Calamity of Famine has been resurrected?!”
-If you doubt my words, see for yourself.
“Kgh!”
As the mocking laughter faded, the grotesque monster reflected in the mirror vanished, leaving only Ludmilla’s distorted reflection.
The full-length mirror, restored to its original state, reflected her troubled expression.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
The incident at the Sanctuary had seemingly concluded with the defeat of the Seraphim Bellatiel, the leader of the Archangels.
However, it was far from over.
The Holy Kingdom’s forces would soon converge upon the Sanctuary, alerted to its fall. Edanant, having exhausted most of his energy in the battle against the seraph, knew he had to escape.
‘I hope Zebeline’s family managed to escape…’
The Russell family, having arrived from Veruso, were currently staying at Februa Cathedral. He had taken precautions to ensure the cathedral wasn’t caught in the crossfire.
As if to prove this, most of the structures in the northern part of the Sanctuary remained intact, a stark contrast to the utterly devastated central area.
Edanant glanced at Zebeline. Her blue eyes, blazing with jealousy, met his gaze.
“Ariel needs to arrive soon… if we’re going to escape safely.”
The apostles of the Disaster Gods, currently engaged in skirmishes with the Holy Kingdom forces attempting to enter the Sanctuary’s central area, would soon regroup and join them.
Edanant waited for the apostles’ arrival, cautiously observing Zebeline.
“To think he actually defeated the Seraphim… He’s more formidable than I anticipated.”
He expected the vampire, whose devotion bordered on fanaticism, to rush to his side like a loyal puppy the moment the battle ended. Lost in thought, gazing at the sky, he suddenly noticed a figure descending.
A woman with flowing emerald green hair.
The only one eccentric enough to fly around on a broomstick was the Master of the Tower. Edanant, suppressing his unease, calmly observed the Mistress of the Red Tower.
“Congratulations on your victory, Edanant von Hohenberc.”
“I don’t have time for an old hag.”
Fighting a mage who had reached the pinnacle of her magical prowess, while in a weakened state, was practically suicidal. Even with Zebeline’s assistance, the Master of the Tower would be a formidable opponent.
Damn it.
Preoccupied with the Black Cardinal and the Seraphim, he had momentarily forgotten about the Master of the Tower.
Edanant cursed his oversight, swallowing a groan. If Querisa unleashed another large-scale magical bombardment like she had in the city streets, escape would be impossible.
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of fighting. In fact, I’d like to propose a deal.”
“…A deal?”
Had she sensed his unease and fear?
Querisa smiled sweetly, her words a stark contrast to her menacing aura.
“I want you to sign a contract with me. Become my new patron.”
“…”
A dubious proposition.
Surely, it wasn’t driven by altruism.
Edanant hesitated, his suspicion evident. Querisa, as if anticipating his reaction, produced her leverage, pulling it from a subspace.
“Pr-Prophet!”
“…”
A spatial rift opened, and numerous figures tumbled out.
They were the apostles of the Disaster Gods, led by Ariel.
Captured by the Master of the Tower while engaging the Holy Kingdom’s forces. Edanant, quickly assessing the situation, realized he had walked right into Querisa’s trap.
“What do you want, Master of the Tower? Looking for a handsome grandpa, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.”
Querisa gave a vague answer, turning her head. Something far more intriguing had caught her attention.
A beautiful woman bound by gleaming chains.
The woman with vibrant orange hair was undoubtedly the Seraphim, the leader of the Archangels. But why was the celestial being bound in such a… suggestive manner, reminiscent of something from a lewd magazine?
The chains tightly constricted her ample bosom.
And they delved even further, tracing the contours of her intimate areas.
Every struggle, every attempt to break free, only tightened the chains, exposing her slender figure. She had clearly been struggling for quite some time.
“Quite the captivating sight. To have the busty Seraphim as your personal slave.”
“…”
Naturally captivating.
Who could possibly dislike ample breasts?
‘Especially when they’re not yours.’
Edanant swallowed the words rising in his throat, warned by Zebeline’s sharp glare. He knew that any careless remark would invite the wrath of the Calamity of Famine.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
