Newspapers were published across the continent, including Rederbelk.
On the front page of every paper across all nations, the same event was featured.
[Cardinals and Archbishops of the Theocracy of Bretus Found Dead!]
[The Criminal Is the Illegitimate Son of Bretus, Heathcliff von Bretus.]
[The Heretic King Who Commands Demons? Who Is He Really?]
The story instantly seized the public’s attention.
In an already chaotic time due to recent demonic incidents, a heretic who controlled demons had appeared.
Moreover, since that man was of the late Holy Sovereign’s bloodline, interest burned even hotter.
The newspapers reported that Heathcliff von Bretus had formed a contract with an evil god and slaughtered the Cardinals and Archbishops of the Holy Nation.
Thanks to cooperation with the Empire, the criminal had been captured at once and was being extradited to the Theocracy.
“An illegitimate child, you say? What on earth happened?”
“A contractor of an evil god? Truly horrifying.”
“He’s practically a demon himself.”
“They say he commands demons. That makes him even worse. Pah.”
The people of the world argued endlessly over Ludger’s—no, Heathcliff’s—deeds.
But the so-called debate was little more than collective condemnation.
He was of the Holy Sovereign’s bloodline, yet worshiped a heretical god and even murdered Cardinal Patricio, a man revered for his virtue.
And that was not all. Nearly thousands who had been with him were also said to have perished.
One man killing thousands.
It was a massacre unparalleled in history.
“How could one person do that alone? Isn’t this fake?”
“They said he borrowed the power of an evil god. Long ago, demons destroyed entire kingdoms.”
“Is this really all right? A god of heretics—who knew such a thing even existed?”
“Well, they caught him, didn’t they? They say the Theocracy’s already taking him back for execution.”
“What if he’s the one behind all the recent demon outbreaks too?”
Heathcliff’s infamy spread throughout the continent.
He was blamed not only for slaughtering Bretus’s priests and holy knights, but also for the incidents in Rederbelk and Isla Machia.
As people cursed Heathcliff, they simultaneously praised the Theocracy and its current Holy Sovereign, Salesin.
The Theocracy went even further.
Declaring its intent to eradicate heresy from the continent, it dispatched its priests and holy knights everywhere.
Thirty thousand trainee and common priests.
Twenty thousand ordinary holy knights.
One thousand high priests.
Eight hundred high-ranking holy knights.
Five Archbishops.
And even Priestesses and Saintesses.
It was as if the twenty years of closed borders had been mere preparation for this moment—the Theocracy’s forces spread across the continent in an instant.
Considering that the current Holy Sovereign, Salesin, was staying within the Exilion Empire,
it could be said that the Holy Nation itself now stood nearly empty.
“Has the Theocracy gone insane?”
“When did they even amass such power? Could their numbers of priests and knights really have grown so explosively in just twenty years?”
“And if they scatter their forces like this, what about their homeland? Isn’t it left wide open?”
Contrary to such worries, the Holy Nation’s internal defenses remained solid.
They claimed that those who died alongside Cardinal Patricio were only a fraction of their total strength—proof that they had built up an enormous force over two decades.
“What are they planning? Do they intend to start a war?”
“Even if they did, spreading influence over the whole continent rather than focusing on one nation feels strange.”
“They claim to be purging heresy, and we can’t exactly oppose that. After all, heretics and demons really have appeared.”
For Bretus, this was the perfect time to act.
Anyone who opposed them now risked being branded a heretic.
When there was nothing to justify their cause, shouting about heresy accomplished nothing—no one listened.
But now, demons had appeared, and a man who worshiped a heretical god had been found.
It was a terrible time to argue against them.
“Besides, the Holy Sovereign himself is suspicious. He headed straight for the Empire right after his coronation.”
“Didn’t every previous Holy Sovereign remain in the capital?”
“They say the new one is young, full of vigor. Whether that’s hot blood or some secret deal with the Empire, I don’t know, but we’d better be careful.”
“For now, let’s welcome any delegation they send. Demons, heresy—it’s all just a pretext, but we need to keep up appearances.”
No country dared oppose the Theocracy’s actions.
When the First Princess Aileen received the report, she frowned, visibly displeased.
“Hah. So that’s how they’ve set the stage.”
Aileen thought of the current Holy Sovereign who had come to the Empire—Salesin von Bretus.
Ludger Cherish—no, Heathcliff’s—elder brother. Salesin resembled him in appearance, though their auras were opposites.
Where Ludger was cold, composed, and distant, Salesin appeared warm and affable.
But Aileen had no doubt their hearts were the reverse.
Ludger’s cold exterior hid compassion and empathy.
Salesin’s gentle smile concealed cruelty.
‘Otherwise, he would never have discarded Cardinal Patricio so easily—a man who had followed him with such faith.’
Aileen believed she must be wary of Salesin.
Though he claimed to have come to express gratitude to the Empire, she did not take that at face value.
Surely, Salesin had some ulterior motive for visiting.
And Aileen knew perfectly well what gave him confidence.
‘My weak younger brother.’
Ivelon von Exilion.
Her younger brother, the Empire’s Second Prince.
Gentle-hearted and lacking in political talent.
Gifted in painting, music, and the arts—talents he himself admitted made him unsuited to rule.
And yet now, Ivelon had stepped to the front, welcoming the Bretus delegation personally.
‘So the meek act was all a lie?’
Aileen had long suspected that Ivelon hid something in ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) his heart.
He had been wise enough never to show it openly, and so she had left him alone.
But now—
Ivelon moved openly, as if to reveal that his meekness had been nothing but a façade.
“Your Highness, what will you do?”
Passius asked her.
In terms of succession, Ivelon’s actions looked like a direct challenge to Aileen’s authority.
And indeed, they were.
Otherwise, the quiet prince would never have begun moving like a fish set free into water.
“We must stop the Second Prince at once.”
“I agree. But it’s easier said than done. The real problem is Salesin, the Holy Sovereign.”
“......Indeed. As long as he’s involved, we can’t easily touch the Second Prince.”
Even if Ivelon acted out, without support his voice would echo in vain.
Aileen’s power within the Empire was secure; Ivelon should have been unable to stir anything.
The crisis began when Salesin von Bretus openly sided with Ivelon.
For the Holy Sovereign himself to favor the Second Prince—it left many bewildered.
“I had only just managed to bring the Lumos family to our side, and I thought I could finally relax.”
“Flora Lumos, was it? Remarkable. Such fierce ambition for her age.”
“‘Illegitimate child’ is just a label. What matters is that she pushed out Cayden Lumos and even surpassed her siblings to become acting head of the house. I lent her a hand, but without her charisma and talent, it wouldn’t have been possible.”
Even with such good news, Aileen lightly rubbed her forehead, as if from a headache.
“The problem remains—the Holy Sovereign.”
The fortress she had built so carefully was now shaking because of one man’s move.
“He was right. I should have cut off my brother sooner.”
It was too late now to debate Ivelon’s fate.
Aileen reproached herself for her leniency, but Passius did not agree.
‘Your Highness... you always knew the Second Prince was dangerous, but your compassion as family made you ignore it.’
Though Aileen appeared cold and merciless, she was not.
Her affection for her younger sister Erendir proved that.
‘You pretend to be unfeeling, but your heart is warm. That’s why I serve you.’
Passius’s eyes hardened with resolve.
“I’ll continue to watch the Second Prince. Even if he’s allied with the Holy Sovereign, he won’t be able to act immediately. We’ll wait for an opening.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sir Passius.”
The door opened suddenly, and the Second Prince Ivelon stepped inside.
Passius narrowed his eyes.
There had been guards outside—how had he gotten past them?
Had he overheard their conversation?
While Passius stood in confusion, Aileen rested her chin on one hand and regarded Ivelon calmly.
“So you appear now... it seems my suspicions were correct.”
“Sister. Please, give up.”
“Give up? That’s a grand statement from someone putting his faith in a newly crowned Holy Sovereign.”
“You cannot stop him, Sister. No one in this world can.”
“You would defy the international order?”
Even if Bretus held moral justification now, it had not yet recovered enough to dominate as before.
The world had long since learned to function without it. For the moment everyone acted compliant, but that could change quickly.
“You think the Theocracy still holds its ancient authority?”
“Of course not. But Sister, do you believe that’s all the Theocracy possesses?”
“You speak as if you’ve seen something.”
“This is the mercy I can offer you.”
“I’ve heard enough. Be grateful that I’ve spared you this long out of family affection.”
“And because of that affection, Sister—you’ve been cornered.”
Ivelon drew something from his robes: a small golden-bound scripture, no larger than a hand.
When he opened it, radiant light burst forth, swallowing the entire room.
Passius immediately drew his sword—
—but hesitated for an instant.
No matter that Ivelon was the enemy, he was still of royal blood.
To wound royalty was a forbidden act for the Royal Guard.
That single moment of hesitation created an opening.
The light from the scripture engulfed both Passius and Aileen.
“You should have realized why I was able to reach this place unopposed.”
The light faded from Aileen’s eyes.
The same happened to Passius.
Both stood motionless, blank and hollow, like dolls whose souls had been stripped away.
Ivelon gazed quietly at Aileen.
“Excellent work, Brother Ivelon.”
Clap. Clap. Clap.
From behind, the sound of applause echoed as Salesin entered the room.
Ivelon turned and bowed deeply to him.
For a royal to bow to the Holy Sovereign meant acknowledging the Empire’s submission to the Theocracy.
Yet Ivelon’s expression showed no trace of humiliation.
“You have arrived, Your Holiness.”
“You truly carried out my instructions.”
“How could I not? This is my role.”
“Well done. Thanks to your righteous choice, Brother Ivelon, the Empire will not perish—it will continue its line.”
Arrogant words, perhaps, but Ivelon knew they were true.
“The Empire will be remembered in history—unlike five hundred years ago.”
“Yes. I am grateful for your grace.”
“The same will happen with every nation. Soon, the priests we dispatched will begin the grand ceremony.”
Salesin smiled as he looked at the motionless Aileen.
His crescent-shaped crimson eyes gleamed with a sinister glow.
“Across the continent, we shall scatter our divine authority.”
