Chapter 271

270. Divine Leviathan Empire (1)

The Emperor’s death wasn’t dramatic. The moment his body vanished, there was no spectacular magical residue, no noisy flapping of insect wings, no bustling movements—just silence.

-Swish.

A cold sound broke the silence. The friction of a blade sliding back into its hilt. Fernandez, crouched in the rain, watched Zephis handle the blade.

Zephis calmly adjusted his gear and stood up. He looked utterly ordinary, nothing like a man who had just defeated a sovereign-class demon, an apostle of the Great Demon.

-Swoosh…

Rain scattered like a curtain. Splash, splash. With a melancholic sound, Zephis approached Fernandez.

“Take it.”

Zephis shook the rain off his hand, wiped the fluid off the blade, and handed over the Holy Sword. The radiant light of the Keyblade shimmered dreamily among the raindrops.

Fernandez silently took the sword and gripped it tightly. Just holding the blade, he could feel the intense spiritual energy of the Holy Sword. For an ordinary person, merely holding it would cause their heart to burst or their soul to tear apart from the sheer backlash.

And rightfully so. Considering the significance of this sword. The Keyblade was a relic capable of unlocking the sealed halls of the Temple of the Gods, a symbol of divine protection, and a powerful artifact that could summon even an Archangel into the Material World when used as an offering.

“You seem fine?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Holy Sword. You didn’t touch it?”

Fernandez, drenched in rain, looked at Zephis. His complexion showed no signs of abnormality. He looked as calm as if he had just gone for a stroll.

“If divine power harms me, then my life must have been flawed. Fortunately, it seems my life wasn’t wasted.”

“Is that so…”

Could simply living a righteous life allow one to withstand the spiritual energy of the Keyblade? Fernandez hesitated to argue. It might be possible.

After all, divinity is a matter of belief. The mindset when wielding a sword. If one’s heart was pure, without a single selfish thought throughout the entire process of moving muscles to attack an enemy, then perhaps it was possible.

Swinging a sword is the ultimate expression of hostility. A sword strike only has meaning if it intends to kill. The romantic notion of a life-saving sword in chivalric tales is a fantasy.

Attacking to slaughter the enemy, defending to survive—all these actions stem from the desire to defeat the opponent. The urge to survive, competitiveness, bloodlust, and anger. A sword strike devoid of such selfishness cannot exist.

Yet, Zephis’s attack was driven by a single conviction: ‘Purge evil and uphold justice.’ A strike so selfless, even a knight at the pinnacle of their craft might only achieve it a handful of times in their life.

As Fernandez quietly marveled, Zephis chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“Faith is the lamp in my heart, Brother Sernard.”

“Truly, a model for priests.”

“I am no longer a priest. Just a sword-wielding fool, a mere soldier.”

“Who would dare treat you as a mere soldier? Haha.”

Fernandez laughed heartily as he untangled the rosary from Zephis’s sword. He placed the old relic on his palm and wiped away the bloodstains.

“Brother. Calling each other brothers means valuing each other’s lives above our own.”

“And hoping that my death precedes yours, so that those who leave first may become lighthouses for those who remain.”

“Pleased to meet you, Brother. Truly.”

“Likewise, Brother.”

Thud. Fernandez and Zephis firmly grasped each other’s hands and shook them vigorously. After a brief handshake, the two walked together through the rain.

It was time to return.

“Ah, there’s someone I’d like to introduce.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t be too surprised.”

Zephis chuckled as he spoke while walking through the rain. Did Zephis have acquaintances in the capital? His activities were mostly confined to the Eastern Kingdom Alliance, and the capital was too far.

After walking for a while, they reached the ruins of the Imperial Palace’s outer walls. Suddenly, Zephis shouted loudly.

“You can come out now!”

“Yes!”

A cheerful voice called out from the rubble, and someone came running out, dodging the rain. Fernandez froze stiff upon seeing her face.

-Huh?

‘Huh?’

Even Faijashi couldn’t hide his confusion. Why are you here?

“Uh… um…”

“Pleased to meet you!”

A woman with golden hair and blazing blue eyes like a beast’s emerged from the rain, smiling brightly under the flickering magical streetlights.

“I apologize for the lack of etiquette! But since the entire etiquette is buried under that pile of rocks, I hope you’ll overlook it for today!”

Her golden hair shimmered, contrasting with her fierce, burning blue eyes. She was a beauty, bearing the distinct genetic traits of the Tremule family.

“I am Everiz Lis de Tremule. I once held the title of Princess, but no longer. I was also the Foreign Secretary of the Port of Gur, but that’s also in the past. Please consider me just a woman.”

“Uh…”

Fernandez glanced stiffly at Zephis, who nodded calmly.

Of course, it had to be her. I thought she might be somewhere in the palace… but why here?

Except for the color of her eyes and hair, she looked exactly as he remembered.

“To make a long story short, I managed to rescue her during the operation.”

“I’d like to hear that long story, Brother.”

Fernandez sighed deeply and whispered to Zephis. It was a sigh of relief. He had thought they had lost the Archangel of the Imperial Palace for sure.

* * *

Until Fernandez returned, Duke Erbe’s mansion was on high alert. The sudden explosion at the Imperial Palace, coupled with unexpected bad weather, had forced all the mages to seal their gates.

In such a situation, it was nearly impossible for Paltennoia’s only defense force, now leaderless, to remain calm. The fact that they hadn’t immediately marched on the Imperial Palace was a miracle of patience.

By the time Fernandez, half-dead yet walking in as if nothing had happened, arrived, the mansion was in a state of near-paranoid panic.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! It’s Sir Fernin!!”

“Don’t shoot the damn arrow, you idiot! Get a grip!”

As Fernandez approached the mansion’s inner courtyard, a stray arrow flew toward him. Zephis swiftly caught it and chuckled.

“You’ve become quite the joker, Brother.”

“Brother, I don’t want to think so, but now that I’ve left the monastery and am wandering… I’m quite…”





“It feels like I’ve put down a heavy burden.”

For Diemonica, who has spent half his life battling death and demons, wading through blood and mud, excommunication might feel like a kind of discharge from duty.

Fernandez chuckled at his attitude and faced the knights rushing out. They were fully armed, splashing through the rain.

“Sir Fernin! What on earth is going on?”

“The only ones causing a ruckus seem to be you, no?”

Fernandez shrugged as he spoke.

“The real chaos is over now. All that’s left is a bit of cleanup.”

“The Emperor…?”

“He’s dead.”

Fernandez glanced at Everiz, who was swaying slightly. Despite the news of the Emperor’s death and the knights’ joyful sighs, the princess showed no change in expression, only smiling.

“And them?”

“This one here has been of great help in dealing with the Emperor…”

He swallowed hard and scanned the knights. He spoke cautiously, ready to stop them if they charged.

“And this is Princess Everiz.”

“…What?”

“Nice to meet you, everyone!”

Everiz waved her hands energetically, as if she had been waiting for this moment. Panic spread among the knights. They had to consider the implications of the Emperor’s death and Duke Erbe’s demise, and the military forces now occupying the capital.

-Swish.

“Sir Fernin, step aside.”

“Put away your sword.”

“We must kill that woman now to justify our cause.”

Finally, one impatient knight drew his sword and shouted. He was right. Everiz was a ticking time bomb at this moment.

With the Emperor dead, the Elector Council would convene. At this point, with all the electors hostile to each other, the two with the strongest voices were those who had stationed troops in the capital and raised the banner of defending the Empire from the beginning of the war—the Carvelier family of Duke Erbe.

Namely, Rene Philippa. Combined with Tremule’s military strength, her forces, and the troops occupying Bülrang under Kirhas, there was no stronger warlord in the Empire at this moment.

But there was another person—Princess Everiz. As the Minister of the Imperial Household who had managed the palace’s affairs even before the war began, and with the authority to speak on the Emperor’s death, if she spoke out of turn, the Carvelier family’s justification would completely vanish.

For example, it could be said that the Emperor’s tyranny and his death were a political show orchestrated by Duke Carvelier using military force. Whether true or not, it didn’t matter to the electors. They would simply check the rise of an overwhelming power.

Her position now was like a double-edged sword. Whoever wielded it, someone would die. It was the most powerful and threatening weapon—’justification’ and ‘face.’ In noble society, sometimes these were stronger than swords.

“I am the one who killed the Emperor, and it was my power that solved the problems ahead of you. I sacrificed my own justification to lead you to this moment. And now you draw your swords before me?”

-Thud.

As Fernandez took a step forward, the knights flinched and stepped back. It wasn’t submission to his strength. It was respect for everything he had done for the Carvelier family and Ribue.

With both the Duke and Duchess absent, Fernandez was the only one who could control Carvelier’s forces. At least, all the high-ranking knights respected his achievements and authority.

“But, sir. If you’re as wise as you seem, you know that if that woman misspeaks, we’ll all die, and the Empire will burn in pieces!”

“Think the opposite.”

She is a double-edged sword. Whoever wields it, someone will die—it’s the strongest justification. So, what if she declares her support for the Carvelier family?

The Carvelier family’s authority comes from power. With at least three electorates united under their banner, no warlord in the Empire can oppose their might.

But the electors do not want an overwhelming power to emerge. If it comes to the Elector Council, it would be impossible to ascend to the throne without civil war. That’s the limit of authority derived from power.

But if Everiz supports Rene Philippa, the story changes. By acknowledging the Emperor’s tyranny, yielding the authority of the Tremule family, and declaring the Carvelier family as the Empire’s protectors, Rene Philippa’s authority would skyrocket from mere strength to prestige and reputation.

The pro-Emperor electors are now exhausted from the war with the Eastern Kingdom Alliance and the Vaitas Church. The only way to resolve this situation is through the Empire’s unification. With Everiz’s support, Rene would undoubtedly achieve this feat.

“But what can we trust about that woman? Her father assassinated His Majesty King Carvelier! Are we to conspire with her without even avenging that blood?”

“She will not inherit the throne. Nor will she inherit any evil deeds.”

Fernandez spoke to the knights gathered in the courtyard. His voice was calm and low, but it carried a powerful resonance.

“No one’s evil should be transferred to another. No evil, no good. An individual’s actions cannot exceed their own scope.”

“You speak like a priest.”

“Indeed.”

-Clink.

Fernandez pulled out a rosary and let it dangle as he spoke.

“As a second-class Inquisition Officer of the Vaitas Church, a monk of the Religiosa Diemonica and St. Bartholomew Monastery, and a bishop with the authority of the Papal See, I declare that from this moment, the Church recognizes the authority of Duke Carvelier…”

He looked at the stunned knights one by one with a firm gaze.

“And the Papacy will gladly praise Rene Philippa de Carvelier as the King of Ribue and the Empire’s protector, the vanguard of justice and banner. May the Divine Leviathan Empire last forever. This is not just my personal opinion but also the will of His Holiness the Pope.”

“So, the Pope has declared his support for the politics of a secular kingdom?”

“No. Duke Erbe’s sacrifice will be beatified as martyrdom, and this will be a tribute to that.”

Duke Erbe was assassinated by the Emperor, who had been corrupted by demons. He had tried to defend the Empire with his limited forces to prevent the spread of war and the sacrifice of innocent lives.

Those who believe in Vaitas, the god of war and justice. The Vaitas Church will officially proclaim the above and declare the end of the holy war.

The end of all the atrocities committed by the Emperor and his death will be attributed to Duke Erbe’s efforts. The Duke will be beatified as a martyr, and Rene Philippa will publicly convert to the Vaitas Church.

She will become the Emperor, the Empire’s state religion will return to the Vaitas Church, and the Pope will hold authority over the entire Empire. This is the history made by the victors.

The struggles built in the shadows and the resulting corpses will serve as the pillars of that history. As one such pillar, Fernandez smiled faintly at the shocked knights.

‘I’m exhausted…’

-You’ve worked hard. Rest today.

Faijashi’s voice faded away. Fernandez felt the ground approaching as he collapsed. His body was battered from the signature spells of his prime, endless battles, contamination by the Great Demon’s power, and forced awakenings.

But the deep sleep that followed the successful conclusion of his work wasn’t bad. It wasn’t a waste of time but a kind of recharge. Fernandez closed his eyes, consoling himself with that thought.