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Chapter 74
Today, a strange and awkward event took place in the imperial palace.
It was none other than the gathering of two princes who seemed desperate to kill each other, brought together in the same room.
“Have you come, brother?”
Luschel greeted Calix with exaggerated warmth. His overly cheerful smile made him look as though he were in high spirits.
“Just to make it clear, this time it wasn’t my doing.”
He added with a sly grin, not out of guilt but simply to mock.
“Still, it is a shame their attack failed.”
Though Luschel spoke as if joking, his voice dripped with malice.
The subordinates they had brought along were utterly loyal to each of them, so revealing bits of truth like this mattered little.
“Thanks to you, brother, who devours every corpse whole, things have become rather inconvenient for us.”
His words implied that Calix had made it impossible to trace the attackers.
Calix sighed as he looked at his unchanging brother.
He knew now was not the time to clash head-on, but he was not one to simply let provocations slide.
“Here.”
Calix placed a handkerchief on the table in front of him.
“Lily said this was for you.”
At those words, Luschel’s mocking smile instantly froze. Such a trivial thing, yet it was the perfect counterattack.
Calix gazed at his brother’s reaction with satisfaction. It was as if receiving two handkerchiefs from Lily was a victory in itself.
“The attackers… on the surface, they were from Vistad.”
Calix leaned back leisurely, crossing his legs. But his gaze, unlike his relaxed demeanor, was sharp and dangerous.
“But Vistad can’t use magic, can they?”
“That’s why I said ‘on the surface.’”
Calix recalled yesterday’s skirmish. The enemies had relied more on magic than swordplay.
“It wasn’t me, so then… who else could it be?”
Luschel smirked crookedly, almost amused.
“Who else, indeed?”
Calix’s question was rhetorical, as if to confirm Luschel’s own suspicion.
The truth was obvious, but neither brother said the name aloud.
The Temple.
The only power arrogant enough these days, and the only one capable of orchestrating such a massive scheme.
Besides, everyone knew the Broque family’s Thane—patron of Vistad—was receiving aid from the priests.
“No need to bother sending an investigation squad, then.”
Luschel seemed eager to raid the Temple immediately. Calix felt the same.
The two spent a long time afterward discussing how best to capture the insolent forces of the Temple in one decisive strike.
Since the brothers had never once been on good terms, such a sight would have shocked anyone.
By the time Calix finally returned to his palace, the sun had already set. For the first time in his life, he sat in a chair without the threat of assassination looming over him.
On his desk lay dozens of sheets of clean, white parchment, along with four ink bottles.
Calix picked up his quill and, without hesitation, began to write.
“…Your Highness, are you truly going to send that?”
Allen, peeking over his shoulder, blanched at what he read.
The letter was overflowing with flowery words, the sort only a suitor would use.
“Why? Is it bad?”
“Yes. Absolutely not.”
Allen’s firm reply made Calix rest his chin in his hand, frowning in dissatisfaction.
Allen had never once stopped him, even when Calix had launched reckless strategies on the battlefield. The fact that he was interfering now troubled Calix deeply.
“Tsk.”
He crumpled the finished letter and tossed it to the floor. The paper landed with a faint rustle.
Even when Calix wrote another version, Allen still shook his head.
“Why not just write as you usually do?”
He risked Calix’s anger to give honest advice.
“The Lady doesn’t even like you, Your Highness. Writing like that will only backfire.”
At those blunt words, Calix tore up the second letter as well. He was about to write again but paused.
“…How did I usually write, again?”
At that mutter, Allen rubbed his forehead. He figured his master had finally gone mad, realizing feelings he had long been blind to.
It took Calix until morning to finally complete the first page.
And that meant the letter wasn’t finished—it was only the beginning.
“What would be good to send along with it?”
He now pondered what gift should accompany the letter.
Flowers, he had sent too many already. Jewels, she might be sick of them by now. He needed something different, something new.
“Did she once say she wanted to visit Waynes…?”
Calix struggled to recall.
It had been so long that he wasn’t sure, but since Waynes was a famous resort, it seemed plausible.
Waynes didn’t entirely belong to him, but several luxury villas there were his private property.
“Call Baron tomorrow. I’ll need to prepare the deed transfer papers.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Allen doubted Lady Lilith would appreciate being given a building, but if he objected to everything, this would never end.
Better she receive something than watch Calix struggle endlessly.
“If she doesn’t like it, she can always send it back.”
As if reading Allen’s thoughts, Calix offered a flimsy excuse.
But contrary to that, he carefully added three long lines to the letter: “Even if you don’t need it now, someday it will be of use, so keep it with you.”
“Hm…”
At last, Calix completed his letter and admired his work.
A casual greeting as usual, a gift that wouldn’t feel too heavy by his standards. Not perfect, but not bad either.
He imagined Lilith either smiling happily as she read it or blushing red in embarrassment.
A faint smile spread across his lips.
Though he liked it when she grew flustered and angry, Calix wanted her to genuinely like the gift this time.
“Milady has finally returned to our hands.”
Flood delivered the good news with a wide smile.
But across from him, the High Priest sat trembling, drenched in cold sweat, as if under threat.
“As expected of the one and only Messenger of God.”
The High Priest clasped his hands tightly, flattering Flood. Though tea had been served long ago, Flood hadn’t touched it even after it had gone cold.
“I thought you would be happier. Are you displeased?”
“N-No, of course not.”
Though Flood’s eyes were blind, the High Priest forced a smile, terrified of offending him in the slightest.
“How many priests do we still have left to use?”
Flood wasn’t referring to ordinary clergy, but fanatics—those whose faith surpassed everything, who would gladly lay down their lives.
Their numbers had never been high, but reckless use during balls, hunts, and other events had depleted them severely.
“About… six remain.”
“That should be enough.”
Flood smiled in satisfaction, and the High Priest finally breathed in relief.
“Just a little longer, and we will welcome the future God has promised us.”
Flood raised both arms toward the heavens, his face shining with rapture.
The High Priest echoed his exclamation, tears streaming as he recited prayers.
“…I did not expect it to be so troublesome, though.”
Flood leaned back in his chair, his expression turning cold as quickly as it had brightened.
It took far too long to subdue her.
He reviewed the deeds of the false Lilith in his mind.
Before the world had rewound, Flood had completed the divine mission perfectly.
Though he didn’t know why time had reversed, he assumed repeating the task would be easier. But the interference had far exceeded his expectations.
It was to be expected that Olivia, the protagonist of this world, was untouchable. But Lilith—Lilith was an unforeseen variable.
Why two souls resided in her body, why mental manipulation failed on the imposter—Flood could not say.
But ultimately, it didn’t matter.
“Victory is ours regardless.”
His voice brimmed with conviction.
“Now that the real one has returned, the flow will restore itself. No matter how much the protagonist struggles, she is still within the palm of my hand.”
Flood leisurely lifted the cold teacup. The bitter, astringent taste did nothing to dampen his good mood.
“Then, shall we take our time recalling old memories?”
For him, reliving the glory of victory was always a delight.
And revisiting the past was essential for ensuring a perfect triumph.
