He couldn’t stay still for a moment, pacing around the chair. He gnawed on his nails, crunching them.
Even after taking good medicine, his stomach wouldn’t calm down. Sipping on liquor didn’t help either; he couldn’t even taste it properly. Third Prince Edmund was so tense right now that if someone poked him, he might just wet himself.
Rebellion. Usurpation. Or, to put it in the nicest way possible, a forceful succession to the throne.
That’s what he was attempting. In life, you don’t get many chances to do something like this more than once.
Like all usurpers, Edmund was experiencing this for the first time. Now that he was actually doing it, he realized that sitting around waiting for the results wasn’t easy either.
Even if he stayed still, his legs trembled uncontrollably, and his heart raced on its own. The slightest noise made him jump.
“If this keeps up, I might die from stress before anything else.”
Every time a loud noise echoed from various parts of the Imperial Palace, his heart sank. He couldn’t even check how things were progressing.
The ones carrying out the coup weren’t his close aides but his superiors from the Temple.
Edmund sighed. He couldn’t help but reevaluate his half-sister, Ardein, whom he had secretly mocked as a warmonger.
Facing the battlefield where spears and swords clashed without flinching and wielding weapons was something entirely different from politics.
At least in that regard, Ardein had proven herself. She wasn’t a great general, but she was a fierce warrior. That alone was enough to prove her courage.
Closing his eyes, he still remembered the girl who had been more promising than anyone else when he was just a child.
Though it’s an embarrassing story now, back then, he had admired this half-sister of his.
Even if it was admiration, looking back now as an adult, it wasn’t anything special. Kids that age would get starry-eyed just seeing a display of Power Techniques.
And with everyone around him praising Ardein as the pride of the royal family, it was only natural for a young mind to think that way.
“Who are you?”
When he finally got the chance to talk to his sister for the first time, the young boy was secretly excited. As he pondered what to say, the voice that came back was cold.
“It doesn’t matter. Move.”
He still remembers it. That day was his ninth birthday.
Ardein hadn’t come willingly, but she was there as a guest to celebrate his birthday. Even if enemies attended such events, they would at least exchange pleasantries on the surface.
Even if they were secretly spitting venom elsewhere, once they accepted the invitation to the party, they would at least offer a congratulatory word for the birthday.
Especially if the other party was a child, it was more common sense than courtesy.
But that day, the princess treated him with such coldness for the first time. All the words he wanted to say got stuck in his throat. He was so shocked that his feet wouldn’t move, and of course, he couldn’t step aside.
Slap!
Instead of a gift, the girl pulled out a riding whip, and what happened next… well, sometimes there are things in the world you’d rather not remember. The prince never wanted to recall that incident again.
Even so, there’s a line. Ardein hadn’t whipped him to kill him, nor did she even intend to cause pain. She just wanted him to move.
She knew well that if a situation arose where blood was shed, especially from the young child who was the main guest of the party, it would be hard to handle.
She didn’t whip him with Power Techniques or anything like that. The pain was no different from being hit with a cane. Aside from the red mark on his shoulder, his body was fine.
But that single whip was enough to shatter the prince’s admiration. It wasn’t anything unusual. Back then, Ardein treated everyone like that, even her own brother.
Moreover, she was cunning enough to always skirt the line of punishment. If Edmund had bled, she might have been disciplined, but since he didn’t, the empress simply bowed her head and apologized.
No one compensated him for the ruined birthday party either. The prince’s public humiliation was ultimately smoothed over by the empress’s apology.
He wondered if his sister even remembered that incident now. It wasn’t for nothing that when she fell ill, there was no one in the palace on her side.
It wasn’t because of the prince’s schemes. Even before he could plot anything, people around the princess had already started to desert her. The speed at which they left was astonishing even now.
Thud.
But just as he was lost in these old memories, the doorknob turned without a knock. The door opened, and armed Temple knights rushed into the room. All of them had serious expressions.
“What’s going on?”
The prince’s expression also turned serious. These weren’t palace people wearing stolen Temple knight uniforms. Looking at their faces, he recognized them all.
In other words, his own people had come in. The fact that they skipped knocking meant there was urgent news. The problem was, even if they were on his side before, they weren’t now.
“Your Highness.”
One of the Temple knights, who often spoke with him, couldn’t bear to look Edmund in the eye and turned his head away. But personal feelings couldn’t override orders from above.
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be arrested.”
In the room next door, a middle-aged man with a stern expression sat down. He seemed to stagger slightly, but it wasn’t very noticeable.
Even with his tumultuous life and years of experience, he couldn’t hide his shaken expression. He tightly gripped his left chest with his right hand.
It was heartbreaking, so heartbreaking.
If he could rip out his own heart to turn back the situation, he would have done it. But now that things had come to this, his one life meant nothing.
“Archbishop…”
The envoy sent by the Saint trailed off.
The Archbishop of the Grantea Diocese held a high position even within the Church. Though his rank was below that of a Cardinal in the Church Country, his actual power was considered greater.
But even such a position was far from enough to shield him now.
“Your Excellency. It seems you’ll have to resign.”
“If that is the will of the Saint and the Goddess, then I will gladly comply.”
The Archbishop sighed. The situation had already escalated, and the Three Divine Gods needed reconciliation with the Imperial Family. To bring the Emperor back to the negotiation table, they needed to present suitable conditions.
Halonen, Arice, and Armata. The three Archbishops, as the chief responsible parties, had to take responsibility.
It was too big of a mess. No one could just let it slide without consequences. If such a failure was ignored, it would set a precedent.
Above all, the Three Divine Gods themselves were furious. The three Goddesses were enraged to the core.
Now that things had come to this, he would have to step down from his position as Archbishop and spend the rest of his life tending to vineyards in some remote monastery.
“Duke Valder. He might have been right.”
The Archbishop sighed as he recalled one person. At least Armata was a man of the Church Country, and he didn’t need to atone with his life for his failure.
He would just lose all his standing. The one who really needed to offer his neck was Third Prince Edmund.
“Let me go! I need to see the Archbishop! I need to see Archbishop Armata!”
The Duke, who had refused to come here under the flimsy excuse of a severe illness and had instead lain down in bed, was indeed a crafty old fox. Outside the bed was truly dangerous.
If he hadn’t been resting in his soft bed but had participated directly in the coup, he would have been shouting alongside them. The Archbishop tried to ignore the noise coming from the next room.
The Temple knights were arresting the Third Prince under orders from above. What could he possibly say?
He couldn’t even take care of himself now. He had no way or reason to help the prince. Whether the prince cried out in betrayal or not, he quietly leaned back in his chair.
“Ugh!”
Until a pig-like scream erupted. He opened his eyes at the sudden noise.
And then he jumped back in shock. The chair falling and breaking was the least of his concerns now.
Crunch.
The envoy sent by the Saint fell slowly, his neck completely snapped. Beyond him, a creature with black wings spread wide glared at him.
How could he not recognize it? Archbishop Armata broke out in a cold sweat. His back was already soaked.
“Ultimate Chimera!”
The unholy divine power mixed with magical energy. Feeling the power of Oberta, Armata sprang to his feet. Fear vanished from his eyes, replaced by intense anger. The Archbishop shouted.
“You’ve joined hands with the Evil God! Blasphemous creature!”
But even as he tried to mask it with anger, he was terrified. He was truly afraid. It wasn’t the power of Yanid that scared him, but the fact that everything he had pushed for had turned into a disaster for the Church.
Both the plan to overthrow the Emperor and the Ultimate Chimera had backfired in the worst way possible. Armata had a significant stake in both.
Tears streamed from his eyes. Then, with a resolute expression, he clasped his hands together.
“This foolish servant offers his life to the Goddess.”
The mistakes he had made were too great to ever be forgiven. Even if the Goddess forgave him, Armata couldn’t forgive himself.
Just like Bishop Reinhaim of the Nemi Church had done before the Demon King, Armata clasped his hands and offered himself to the Goddess. A Self-Sacrifice Spell, Oberta muttered.
“The high priests of the Three God Faith are always like that. Their own lives aren’t important to them. They’ll throw themselves at a rock without hesitation, shattering themselves.”
Even if the egg is thrown a little faster, it’s still an egg. Even if they burn their own lives to charge forward, they can’t overcome the fundamental difference in power.
Moreover, the Archbishop had almost no combat experience. That position was reached through faith and politics, not strength.
Crunch.
Yanid’s hands, filled with divine power, dug into the Archbishop’s shoulders. The fingers pierced through flesh and reached bone, and the Archbishop screamed. But he didn’t retreat and kept charging forward.
The girl gritted her teeth. She wanted to see this man scream in terror. But Armata didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so.
Squelch!
The nails on the embedded fingers popped out. The Archbishop’s arms were severed. Even protected by divine power, human flesh couldn’t withstand dragon claws.
Yet there was no fear in his eyes. Though he felt the pain, the Archbishop simply muttered.
“Just a scratch.”
Then he charged forward again, kicking. How many times had he ever kicked someone? And now, without arms, his balance was off.
The kicks were clumsy. But they were desperate. The girl smirked, grabbed his foot, and dug her nails in, tearing it off.
“Just a bit of skin torn off.”
But with his remaining leg, he didn’t lose his fighting spirit and kept hopping forward. Even the girl was getting tired.
What kind of person is this? Even if he was an enemy, his mental strength and tenacity were undeniable.
Like melted cheese, Armata clung stubbornly, but he finally collapsed before reaching Yanid. His life had run out.
A smile lingered on his face as he fell. At least in his own mind, he hadn’t died in shame.
He had died calling out the Goddess’s name against her enemy, so he had no reason to be dissatisfied. Yanid gritted her teeth and stomped on his smiling face.
“Truly, this is something to envy. Among my followers, there’s no one like that…”
Oberta muttered softly as she watched the girl trembling with unspent rage. The faith of those who served her was light, not heavy.
Most of her followers were fluid, easily switching their allegiance like reeds.
That was Oberta’s concern and the main reason she was always running around. Her stable support base was almost nonexistent.
“What, what’s going on?!”
A Temple knight, hearing the commotion, opened the door and entered, only to be horrified by the blood and the Archbishop lying with his limbs severed. He wore pure white armor but wasn’t a Holy Knight.
A Temple knight. Roughly equivalent to a regular priest in rank. Naturally, his skills were only at that level. He was no match for Yanid. The girl’s eyes flashed.
The frustration she couldn’t vent on the Archbishop had to be taken out on someone. The other followers of Hilrae became unfortunate targets.
Flap.The girl spread her wings.
Now, no one could escape.
