“Sister!”
Sylvia, advancing toward the Emperor, was clearly visible to everyone present.
Though the battlefield was full of enemies too formidable to cut down recklessly, and the steam billowing from the equipnt she wore obscured the view, there was no doubt she was the centerpiece of the confrontation. Not only was Sylvia the Emperor’s target, but she was also the only one with a complete grasp of the situation. After all, the entire group had co this far with the singular purpose of supporting her.
Even the Emperor had tacitly acknowledged it. Though he hadn’t said it outright, it was evident that Sylvia possessed so power connected to the “goddess.”
Claire, too, had intended to rush to Sylvia’s aid—
“—Ugh!”
—but she was forced to retreat abruptly, swinging her sword in a sharp arc.
A whoosh cut through the air—a sound more akin to a whip crack than the swing of a sword. In truth, the motion of the blade was so unnatural that it didn’t resemble a sword at all.
“I saw it last ti, but I still can’t figure out how you move that sword like that.”
“Oh?”
The tip of Claire’s blade, as she retreated, was laced with a blue energy that writhed unnaturally. Unlike the straight lines of conventional sword auras, hers bent and curled like a whip or a snake. This wasn’t the sword acting on its own—it was Claire exercising precise control over her sword energy.
“Strange to hear that from you,” Claire said, her tone tinged with irony.
Bella, her opponent, smirked in surprise. With a flick of her wrist, her curved saber snapped back into a more traditional sword form, like a coiled snake relaxing.
“Your way of wielding sword energy is similar to mine. Who taught you that?”
“Grace.”
Claire’s grip tightened on her sword as she answered.
“The Grace family? They don’t seem like the type to teach such unorthodox swordsmanship. Weren’t you scolded when you first showed those moves?”
Bella spoke casually, but her focus never wavered as she slowly circled Claire.
Tsk. Claire clicked her tongue quietly, noting that Bella wasn’t taking her lightly. On the surface, Bella seed relaxed, but in reality, she was deliberately blocking Claire’s path to Sylvia. Bella clearly judged that letting Claire join Sylvia would tip the balance in their favor.
“What about you?” Claire countered. “How did you get that blade of yours?”
“The palace has all kinds of weapons. I just picked the one that suited best.”
“Sa here. I simply chose the best way to utilize my skills.”
“Hmm~”
Bella’s eyes narrowed slightly at Claire’s response.
“Maybe we think alike. Perhaps it’s because we both grew up in orphanages?”
“…”
“I heard you call Sylvia your sister. Did she rescue you from one of those places?”
“…Yeah.”
“I see.”
Bella nodded calmly. For a mont, her expression softened—a flicker of sothing like bitterness crossed her face. It was a rare departure from the artificial smile she usually wore.
“Lucky you. I never had soone like a sister.”
Claire couldn’t bring herself to respond.
“Is that why you’re helping the Emperor?”
“Hmm?”
“Because he saved you? Took you in?”
“Well, maybe,” Bella said with a shrug. “He did take in. But that’s not why I follow him. It’s more that, if not here, I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do.”
Bella spun her blade effortlessly, then looked directly at Claire.
“And, well, if Father gains the power of the goddess…”
Her gaze was piercing.
“Don’t you think he’d grant at least one wish?”
For example, granting her a past that wasn’t so dark.
Being reborn—not as a counterfeit child the Emperor picked up, but as a true, legitimate heir.
“…”
If Claire told Bella the truth here—that she was the Emperor’s real daughter—how would Bella react?
But before she could speak—
“Claire, watch out!”
—she was interrupted by a sharp warning.
A thwack followed, the sound of sothing solid being struck hard.
Turning, Claire saw Leo had intercepted soone rushing toward her, using the hilt of his sword to knock the attacker unconscious.
The cathedral was now teeming with civilians who had fled inside, and it seed soone had managed to approach while Claire was distracted by her conversation with Bella.
“Claire!” Leo shouted again.
Claire ducked instinctively. A split second later, Bella’s blade sliced through the space where her head had been, cutting a few strands of her blue hair that fell to the ground.
Pivoting quickly, Claire retaliated with a wave of sword energy aid at Bella.
“What a sha,” Bella said, gracefully leaping backward.
“It’s always the sa. Whenever people hear about my past, they all react like you just did. But it’s all in the past now. It’s over.”
Bella’s swirling laughter was enough to help Claire refocus.
She steadied herself. If this could have been resolved with words, they wouldn’t have co this far. Sylvia would have solved it without a fight.
“Claire.”
Leo spoke quietly.
“I’ll hold her here as long as I can. The mont you see an opening, go to Sylvia. …You still have what Sylvia gave you, right?”
“…Yeah.”
Claire nodded firmly.
“Good. Let’s do as she instructed before we ca here.”
At his words, Claire nodded again, determination gleaming in her eyes.
“Antonio!”
Sophia’s voice rang out, hoarse and jagged, unlike her usual high-pitched tone.
Sophia wasn’t an emotionless person. On the contrary, she was deeply emotional.
It was precisely because of this that she was struggling to process everything now.
She was acutely aware of her identity as a follower of the goddess, a mber of the cathedral knights, and a citizen of the Holy Nation.
But—
Sophia had trusted Antonio.
He was a man who had suddenly appeared in the Holy Nation years ago and risen to knighthood through sheer skill. Among the knights, he was admired for his diligence and prowess.
He had even refused to swear by the goddess’s na, saying it was not sothing to invoke lightly.
“I’m sorry,” Antonio said, easily parrying her strike with his sword. “But ‘Antonio’ was just a temporary na.”
His voice was calm, even as he continued, “My real na is Damien. Damien Fangryphon.”
“…!”
Sophia let out an inarticulate cry and swung her sword again.
Sophia, too, was highly regarded within the knightly order. Though still growing, she had been praised for her rapid progress and was expected to beco an exceptional knight with more experience.
But she wasn’t yet a match for Damien.
“Ugh…!”
Sophia staggered backward as Damien’s casual swing forced her off balance. Her boots squeaked against the smooth marble floor, the sound grating.
There was no room for conversation now—nor any need for it.
Before news of his "death," Antonio—no, Damien—had been considered the strongest knight in the cathedral. The sword he wielded now, Jericho’s Blade, was a sacred relic known for its unmatched sharpness.
The irony was infuriating.
If soone so entrenched within the cathedral had been a traitor, what was the cathedral even fighting for?
Tat-tat-tat!
The sound of gunfire snapped Sophia out of her spiraling thoughts.
“Focus,” a voice said calmly.
As Damien took a step back, reloading clicks echoed behind her.
“Distracted thoughts are dangerous on the battlefield. I’ll cover you from the rear; just keep his attention on you.”
Sophia turned to see Lena, thodically readying her firearm.
“You—”
“This isn’t the ti for questions,” Lena interrupted. “Don’t worry, I won’t shoot you in the back. As long as Her Highness trusts you, so will I.”
“….”
For a mont, Sophia was at a loss for words.
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