The next mont, a black mist swirled behind him.
Faint golden branches began to weave behind him, forming a throne constructed of golden boughs.
Shiayar sat atop the throne woven from branches, lost in thought.
So, am I truly the master of this world?
According to the Knowledge Holy Chalice, this black mist should be the gathering place of the ancient organization, Golden Dawn.
And now, it's been usurped by ?
Shiayar experinted for a mont.
This was not a physical world, but rely the source of Spirituality itself.
Yet, he truly existed within it, wielding a great deal of Authority.
After a long while, Shiayar finished experinting and lightly tapped the armrest of the golden throne beneath him with his hand.
In that case, my plans in Escarnia might just beco a lot more convenient.
From beginning to end, Shiayar had not forgotten that he was still caught within a twisted history.
And now, his primary goal was to correct that erroneous history.
Kingdom's Bane... Cain.
Shiayar's eyes narrowed slightly, recalling the current historical account's evaluation of Cain.
Very well then. Let Cain, and Daybreak too, truly beco the Kingdom's Bane for once.
「Fresta Empire, Empire Capital.」
「The Throne Room.」
A silver-haired woman stood alone in the deserted palace.
Before her was an enormous canvas.
This artwork was nearing completion, with only the finishing touches left.
The silver-haired woman held no brush. She rely extended her pale fingers, lightly touched The Void, and brilliant strokes were drawn one by one on the canvas, vividly lifelike.
It was a grand painting.
On the canvas was a slender figure in a black robe with red clouds, wearing a whirlpool mask.
The background was a huge valley in the night.
Across the valley was a horde of monstrous demons, dark as ink.
And that slender figure faced the legions head-on, its back turned to all living beings.
Above the night sky, the Sacred Spear pierced through the darkness, sending endless, brilliant starlight falling from the heavens to the earth.
Cold moonlight filtered through the windows of the Throne Room.
It fell on Isadella's lovely face, illuminating her beautiful eyes, as serene and deep as a forgotten well.
A dark shadow wove itself into a hazy, phantom-like figure in a black dress, quietly erging beside the Throne. "Your current appearance is quite unfamiliar to ."
"Black Princess, do I know you well?" Isadella's gaze did not shift from the painting, her cold voice resonating within the Throne Room.
The figure in the black dress let out a chuckle, "In the correct history, I had so interactions with you."
"I have long since forgotten." The Silver-haired Empress's expression remained unchanged, not a flicker of emotion visible even in her serene eyes. She didn't even turn her head.
"Even though I can't rember what relation I had with you in another history... here and now, between you and , we're nothing more than pure enemies."
"Do you want this shadow body of yours to be trapped here forever?"
Golden brilliance manifested. The pressure from the Sacred Sword erupted suddenly—a pressure unique to the Throne, powerful enough to severely injure even a Legendary.
But, in the mont before the Sacred Sword manifested, the figure in the black dress had already turned into flowing shadows, dissipating into the night.
"Cooperating with Crimson Moon in exchange for immortality... the price is forgetting humanity, forgetting past mories, forgetting worldly emotions.
"It ans becoming sothing hideous, unrecognizable even to your forr self.
"If I were to tell you that everything you are doing now is actually a misunderstanding, that your perseverance is a aningless, futile effort...
"And that your current appearance, even if Cain were to truly return, would only make him find you twisted and hideous, filling him with disgust for you...
"Would you regret it then?"
The shadow dissolved, leaving only that bell-like voice echoing in the Throne Room.
Isadella's gaze remained fixed on the painting, or more precisely, on the slender back of the youth depicted within it.
"No regrets."
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