* * *
So that was what had felt off.
After possessing Karon Luavis’s body, Kim Minsoo had all but severed ties with the Luavis family.
He was horrified by the life Karon had lived, but more than that, he realized it was the entire Luavis household that had shaped him into that kind of person.
A father who treated his son as nothing more than a subordinate, a mother who was no better, older brothers who found entertainment in suppressing their sibling, and a nanny who was far from normal.
‘Kim Minsoo, who grew up in a normal household, couldn’t accept that kind of treatment.’
I wondered if I was misremembering, so I used my quest reward to reread the original novel.
If anything, my memory had been too forgiving.
Kim Minsoo despised the Luavis family even more than I recalled.
‘Normally, when someone achieves great merit, they’d want to receive a new surname.’
Even from the emperor’s perspective, leaving things as they were would only strengthen the Luavis family’s power.
It would have made sense to grant him a separate title.
But there was no such scene in the novel.
I had reread it multiple times since arriving in this world—I was certain of it.
‘So in the end… the Luavis family became the imperial family.’
My initial doubts upon arriving in this world had been right.
In the novel, I could gloss over details like this, but this was the actual world inside that story.
The only major difference was the addition of the omega and alpha dynamics.
‘Then… what was the novel I read? Is this really the same world?’
My mind grew even more tangled with questions.
Then, Duke Pantheon’s voice broke through my thoughts.
“Sei.”
“Yes…?”
When I hurriedly met his gaze, I found his crimson eyes weighed down with emotions.
“So, what would help ease your mind? I could formally protest to the Luavis family. That way, Karon Luavis would have to apologize to you in person.”
“But… that would just be for show, wouldn’t it? I doubt he’d come willingly, no matter what.”
“……You’re right. He’d avoid it, and his family wouldn’t force him either. They always find ways to slip out of things. But…”
Duke Pantheon trailed off, running a hand through his hair with a bitter laugh.
“There are so many problems in this world that can’t be solved with just the righteous path.”
That was exactly the answer I had been hoping for.
“That’s why… I’d rather let it be. I want this incident to remain a scandal for Karon Luavis and a lasting tale of my brother’s good deeds.”
“……You really are…”
The duke’s voice was rough, cracked with emotion.
“You really take after your father.”
That felt like an insult to the late Marquis Kreveta, but I swallowed the words and let them sink deep inside me.
For a long moment, Duke Pantheon simply looked at me.
I couldn’t even begin to guess what unspoken thoughts flickered through his crimson eyes.
At last, he parted his lips, only to close them again.
With a small shake of his head, he let out a quiet sigh.
“…It’s nothing. You must be tired. Go and rest.”
“Yes, I understand.”
I bid him goodnight and left the office.
As I walked down the dimly lit corridor, my thoughts swirled.
The truth about the novel I had read, its connection to this world—none of it made sense.
And among those countless uncertainties, one suspicion emerged.
‘Could it be…?’
That the Luavis family was behind the carriage accident that killed the Marquis and Marchioness of Kreveta.
The Manifestation ceremony was one of the empire’s grandest events, held with great splendor each year.
But this time, it carried a special significance.
The heir to the throne would be attending, along with two young dukes believed to be his future pillars of support.
Of course, not everyone saw it as a moment of unity.
Many noticed the hidden political implications.
The decision to delay the Pantheon heir’s Manifestation ceremony from last year to this one was a deeply strategic move.
Some criticized the emperor, saying that despite his outward emphasis on harmony and balance, he was ultimately afraid of the Pantheon family.
Others speculated that the Pantheons’ willingness to comply showed that their influence had waned.
A particularly bizarre rumor even circulated that the unusually keen-eared crown prince had overheard palace servants gossiping and was deeply shaken.
But all of this was just background noise.
For most citizens of the empire, the Manifestation ceremony was simply a festival to enjoy.
And at last, the long-awaited morning arrived.
The Karaka Outdoor Hall, the largest venue in the empire, was packed inside and out.
Seating had been arranged in a circular pattern, with families and guardians of the participating youths taking their places.
At the center stood a raised platform, positioned so that it could be seen from afar.
Between the platform and the seating area, the young participants sat, their anticipation thick in the air.
As the ceremony began in earnest, the Pope appeared on the podium.
The moment he emerged, most of the attendees clasped their hands together in prayer to the god Sinoa.
As always, the Pope wore a benevolent smile, but his gaze, sweeping over the crowd, was filled with greed.
On the altar atop the podium lay something covered with a white cloth.
The Pope wiped away his kindly expression, replacing it with a solemn one, and slowly pulled the cloth away.
At that moment, a radiant light spread in all directions.
“Ohhh!”
“Is that the holy relic left behind by Saint Shailot?”
“Ah, Sinoa be praised!”
As the light gradually faded, an old, cracked, and broken statue of the Holy Mother was revealed.
It had originally been called the Statue of the Praying Woman, but over time, people had simply begun referring to it as the Holy Mother Statue.
Regardless, it was said to be a relic personally blessed by Saint Shailot.
Soon, three boys stepped onto the podium.
In the center stood the platinum-haired Crown Prince Hamuel, with the black-haired Raizen to his left and the red-haired Karon to his right.
However, for some reason, none of the three boys looked particularly happy.
The Pope, still maintaining his benevolent smile, attempted to meet each of their gazes in turn. Internally, he was perplexed, but he made sure not to show it.
The Pope then stretched both arms wide into the air before clasping his hands together.
Closing his eyes, he recited the representative prayer of the Sis religion, the faith devoted to Sinoa.
His voice, imbued with a sacred resonance, was amplified by magic, carrying through the open-air hall of Karaka and beyond.
‘What a clown.’
Raizen summed up his thoughts on the Pope succinctly.
No matter how much he tried to suppress his cynicism, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this entire scene was an elaborate farce.
His gaze shifted to the relic before him.
The brilliant light that had spread when the cloth was removed—if he had known nothing, he too would have believed it was divine power.
That is, if he had never experienced true divine power himself.
But from that light, he felt nothing.
Absolutely nothing. It was nothing more than an empty glow, like the magic he had used at the New Year’s banquet.
This… could it be an exceptionally well-crafted magical artifact?
Raizen pondered.
A magical artifact so meticulously designed that even its inherent magical energy had been concealed—perhaps it was crafted with that level of precision.
Just then, the sky suddenly flashed.
A bolt of lightning struck down in an instant, and screams erupted from all directions.
Raizen instinctively started to turn toward where his family was seated but hesitated.
His gaze slowly shifted toward the Pope.
The Pope looked utterly possessed. His eyes, now empty voids, overflowed with blinding white light.
His mouth opened—slowly, unnaturally wide.
[Here, in this very place, the seed of disaster lies hidden.]
[Disaster shall awaken the oldest of evils.]
[This is an unchangeable and ever-repeating fate.]
[It cannot be altered by any means!]
Though the words came from the Pope’s mouth, they did not sound human.
Just hearing them evoked an overwhelming sense of dread.
The language spoken carried a weight so immense that it felt as if it was being engraved directly into the minds of those who heard it.
A prophecy.
‘This is a divine prophecy!’
Everyone present had the same thought.
The moment the lightning ceased, the sky cleared as if nothing had happened.
The light in the Pope’s eyes faded, and he collapsed on the spot.
The Emperor’s voice, echoing beyond the open-air hall, worked to calm the panicked crowd.
Karon Luavis had already fled from the podium.
Crown Prince Hamuel, without realizing it, had grabbed Raizen’s arm in shock before hastily letting go.
“……”
In the midst of the chaos, Raizen remained motionless.
As he watched the priests carry the Pope away, he reached into his inner pocket.
His trembling hand barely managed to clutch onto the lucky stone.
A gift from Sean—one he had infused with divine power that very morning.
A warmth spread through his fingers, yet Raizen couldn’t shake the feeling that he was frozen to the bone.
‘No.’
He denied it with all his might, but it was no use.
Any hope that this prophecy wasn’t real, or that, even if it was, it had nothing to do with him, was soon swallowed by a massive darkness.
He felt as if the ground beneath him was giving way, his vision growing dim.
And then… a familiar voice.
[Ki, kihihi. Poor little Rai~]
A chilling, mocking voice, as if it had been waiting for this moment.
For a brief second, Raizen was tempted to let himself be consumed by the darkness forever.
His eyelids were about to close completely when—
[Hey!! Raizen!! Snap out of it!!]
* * *
