The Holy Knights who had followed Remria reacted imdiately to Ludger’s killing intent.
“How dare you!”
They wore pure white coats fastened tightly to their collars, with silver armor layered over their shoulders, forearms, and shins.
Seeing the situation as their chance, they drew their swords—thinking inwardly that it was a welco opportunity.
They had followed the priestess because she said she had personal business to attend to, but standing around here wasting ti had been testing their patience.
Now that the man before them had conveniently shown hostility, giving them every justification to act, they had no reason to hold back.
“How dare you speak such blasphemy to the priestess! I’ll carve repentance into your tongue myself!”
“Repentance? Did you just dare speak that word in front of ?”
Ludger fixed his gaze on the knight who had shouted.
The instant their eyes t, the knight felt his breath seize in his throat.
‘What... what is this?’
He couldn’t breathe. His lips trembled, and cold sweat broke out on his palm gripping the sword.
Facing Ludger’s murderous intent, he felt as if he had co face to face with sothing indescribable, sothing far beyond human comprehension.
He was supposed to be a sword serving God, protector of the priestess—yet he was afraid of this re man?
Impossible.
Crack.
He clenched his hand tighter around the sword, trying to shake off the feeling, but the more he fought it, the deeper he sank—like being swallowed by a bog.
His face flushed red, and the whites of his eyes filled with crimson veins. Just then—
“That’s far enough, if you would.”
“....”
The suffocating aura °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° suddenly dissipated.
Ludger turned his cold gaze toward Remria.
The priestess smiled faintly.
“They stood up for , after all. I couldn’t just let them suffer.”
“Remria, Priestess—”
“Stay still, both of you. Until I say otherwise. I don’t want you rampaging around here.”
“But—”
“Oh, I an this: even if the two of you tried, you wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on him anyway.”
The knights bit their lips hard.
Their faces twisted with humiliation, but they couldn’t refute it.
They had just learned, all too painfully, the vast gulf between their power and Ludger’s.
“Let’s continue. Permission to transport the relic has been granted, and it’s already on its way from the Holy Nation. It should arrive at the destination soon.”
“So, I’m just supposed to sit here and listen while you tell they plan to kill my teacher?”
“Of course not.”
Remria tilted her head slightly.
“I told you—I ca because I want to help you.”
“Help. Is that what you call it?”
Murmuring coldly, Ludger slowly rose from his chair.
Thud!
The air itself grew heavy, pressing down on Remria’s shoulders.
Her body wavered where she sat, nearly losing balance.
For the first ti, her ever-smiling face hardened.
Ludger looked down at her with frozen eyes.
The Holy Knights, who should have moved to protect her, couldn’t. They were already on one knee, crushed beneath his oppressive aura.
“When,” Ludger said quietly, “did I ever ask for your help?”
“T-that...”
“You co here trying to gain my favor, but your manner is unbearably stiff and arrogant.”
Remria tried to pull the corners of her trembling lips into a smile, but it didn’t co easily.
“If you truly wished to help , you should have begged for it. ‘Please, let assist you,’ sothing like that.”
Such arrogance.
The knights thought Ludger had lost his mind.
To speak that way—to a priestess of Bretus Theocracy? Did he not fear the consequences?
But what ca next shocked even them.
“I... I am sorry.”
Remria—
Priestess of Bretus, sister of the Saintess—
apologized to Ludger.
“I spoke thoughtlessly.”
“......”
When she offered her apology with genuine sincerity, only then did Ludger withdraw his aura.
Pale and breathless, Remria steadied herself and drew in a trembling breath.
Ludger, still watching her coldly, sat back down.
“Speak. What exactly are you people planning to do?”
* * *
Grander stood at the mountain’s summit.
Beyond the ravine stretched a vast crater, like the remains of so ancient cataclysm.
The surrounding forest was dense, yet within that crater there was nothing—as if sealed under so invisible barrier.
Not even weeds or insects existed there.
“Isn’t it fascinating?”
A man approached and spoke to her.
Cardinal Patricio.
Wearing a benevolent smile befitting his station, he continued,
“Even after all these centuries, no life has ever taken root within that crater. It’s as though only death itself reigns there.”
“And what of it.”
“Does it not strike you as the perfect place for the ending you so desire?”
Grander let out a sharp laugh.
“You think I don’t already know that? Even a land of death like that couldn’t grant peace.”
“Yes. On its own, perhaps not. But with a sacred relic from the Holy Nation—everything changes.”
The Stake of God.
That was the reason Grander tolerated even looking at Patricio’s smug face—because she believed in the relic’s power.
“Long ago, that place overflowed with life. You can tell just by the surrounding forests. It’s also where Saint Arkenis fought her final battle against the great demon Surna. Though she defeated him at the cost of her life, the demonic taint left behind turned that land into death itself.”
“Heh. ‘Defeated,’ you say.”
“Why do you laugh?”
“Never mind. It’s fine if you remain ignorant.”
“Heh. Worry not. Your death is sothing even our Holy Nation has awaited. The Stake of God—tempered through prayer to Lunis himself—will finally grant it to you.”
“That’s why you’ve gathered those wretches, then?”
Her gaze dropped toward the slopes below.
There, at the mountain’s base, a sprawling encampnt stretched across the plain—thousands of people assembled.
Those who had answered the Lunis Church’s summons from across the world.
Each one an elite. Among them, two held the rare titles of Color Mages.
To anyone else, that would have been an awe-inspiring sight.
But to Grander, they were all nothing more than vermin.
For she was the living legend of all magi—the pinnacle of the magical world, an Eighth-Circle sorceress.
“No matter how many of those you gather, it ans nothing to .”
“I know. But we have our own motives. There must be both aning and spectacle in what we do. Don’t you agree the story looks better if there’s a fierce battle before the end?”
“And you’ll use that as pretext to glorify your Church.”
Patricio rely shrugged.
“Well, if we’re already doing it, it may as well benefit us both, don’t you think?”
“......”
Grander found the thought that her death would further the Church’s power disgusting.
But she wasn’t going to stop now.
She had longed for this death too much.
She had wandered the world for centuries searching for it.
That foolish disciple of mine... he still weighs on my mind.
By right, she should have died by Ludger’s hand.
That was why she had raised him—why she had made him strong.
But sowhere along the way...
She had begun to enjoy their days together.
Like the morning mist slowly seeping into one’s clothes—by the ti she realized it, her heart was already soaked through.
Poison, she thought coldly.
To have grown attached to the very disciple she’d trained to kill her.
For one who had lived an eternity alone, she had sworn never to form ties with anyone again—not humans, not even elves.
They all lived and died, generation after generation.
But she remained alone. Always.
It has to end here.
She had once ant for Ludger—the vessel of God—to beco her dagger and grant her death.
But she couldn’t do it anymore.
As she watched him grow, learn, and mature, sothing had blood within her.
Maternal affection.
How absurd.
An ancient vampire of the True Blood line, feeling motherly love for the descendant of a Holy Sovereign.
A monster raising the child of God.
If it had been one-sided, it might have been easier.
But that foolish disciple... he too had a tender heart.
They had ford feelings where there should only have been death.
It was wrong. Unforgivable.
And yet, the heart has no rules.
Even she—who stood at the apex of magic—had been brought this far by such a fragile emotion.
She wasn’t afraid of dying.
What truly frightened her was having to ask her disciple, now like a son, to kill her.
Perhaps what pushed her to this point was when Ludger had taken Rine’s mother’s life with his own hands.
The terror of the Theocracy, an immortal monster, trembling out of concern for one re human. How laughable.
But it would soon be over.
She would finally die.
The divine power of the Stake of God—
Even within the confines of this world’s laws, it could erase an immortality like hers.
My disciple must be busy collecting the Relic fragnts he sought. Even he won’t have ti to co here. And with this many troops gathered, not even he would dare intervene.
That was enough.
It was enough.
Grander finally let go. She was ready to accept death.
* * *
Ludger stood silently in Grander’s room.
It was a pretty, dainty place, matching her outward appearance—but without its owner, it felt hollow, as if a crucial gear had gone missing.
She’s gone.
Her purpose had always been to end her eternal life.
That was why she had gone to the Theocracy—and why she had taken in the abandoned Ludger, raising him instead.
To forge him into the dagger that would one day kill her.
Ludger had always known.
She had never hidden her intent; she had always told him openly—
“I will et my end soday.”
And now, she had left, saying the promise no longer mattered.
Had she changed her mind?
No.
She had always longed for death.
But now a new path had opened—one where her beloved disciple didn’t need to stain his hands with her blood.
Ludger closed his eyes and let the mories flood in.
—You dull-witted boy. How many tis must I tell you not to draw your circles like that?
—Precision is life in alchemy. Get one ratio wrong, and you start over.
—Think while you move. Are you a slug? Actually, a slug might be better.
—Don’t get arrogant. There are countless mages better than you. At best, you’re average.
His mories of learning from her weren’t fond ones.
She never praised him.
Even when he exceeded expectations, all he got was scolding and criticism.
And yet—
He still rembered.
—Ha. You fool.
That exasperated smile, the faint pride and warmth in her eyes.
Her harsh words always carried a touch of gentleness.
The way she’d demand he cook for her all the ti—yet when he fell ill with fever, she stayed by his side, nursing him, making him porridge herself.
And when he recovered, she’d berate him furiously, embarrassed to have shown such care.
Ludger left the room silently.
Outside, leaning against the wall, Alex looked up.
“So. You’re going.”
“Did Hans tell you to stop ?”
“As if. He practically said he was sure you’d go.”
“And you? Are you going to try?”
“Well, your plan’s finally near its end, the goal’s in sight...”
Alex smirked faintly.
“But sticking too closely to logic isn’t really my style. Do what you want.”
“Not even a token offer to tag along?”
“You wouldn’t let anyway. So why bother? Just—co back, all right?”
“I’ve never once gone anywhere intending not to return.”
“Confident, aren’t you.”
As Ludger walked past, Alex called out behind him.
“Why go this far?”
Without turning around, Ludger answered,
“...Because she gave too much.”
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