Ch.254Coronation (4)

Once the conversation began, Llewellyn found himself with nothing to do.

The discussion kept veering into areas outside his expertise, and inserting himself with his limited knowledge would be more of a hindrance than help.

So Llewellyn remained quiet, thinking he would step in only if the dialogue between the two groups became too heated.

But that never actually happened.

In a way, it was to be expected. Although the Three Clans had committed evil acts and caused harm to humanity…

Their origin was that of immortals created by the Steward who couldn’t bear to see humans suffering through life and death.

Their superhuman strength and intelligence were originally intended to help humans.

So regardless of whether they possessed such instincts naturally, Llewellyn thought their power, intelligence, and abilities could serve well for protection.

And the attitude of the Pantheon people toward them couldn’t really be considered bad either.

Well, this too was understandable.

Those actively engaging in dialogue with the Three Clans were warriors who had fought for a long time to protect human lands from the Three Clans and to crush their conspiracies.

They had stood up solely for justice, and even if they harbored revenge and ill feelings, they couldn’t just stand by when the world’s existence was at stake.

All of this was obvious even to someone as socially oblivious as Llewellyn.

The world is ending. It’s scheduled to end. It’s a form of destruction no one has ever imagined before, and there’s only one way to prevent it.

Netel becoming the tool to close the world.

Llewellyn, a human who became a god, would fill Netel’s vacancy. It might sound perfect at first glance, but the reality was different.

“If the goal is to drive out the Transcendents, then the Transcendents will interfere.”

“Correct. Monsters originating from the Demon Realm and deranged contractors will arrive at this fortress as enemies.”

At the mention of deranged contractors, gazes briefly shifted. At the edge of that view stood a man.

With red hair and red eyes, someone who was obviously a contractor.

No one addressed him directly, knowing it would be unwise to provoke him, but…

“…You can exclude me and the Star’s contractors from that consideration.”

“Is not the Star also a Transcendent, Blazing Lord?”

Blazing Lord Beliareus, perhaps rightfully called the strongest among known contractors, smiled as he tried to reassure the wary people.

“Of course, the Star is also a Transcendent… but the Star doesn’t oppose this matter.”

“…Doesn’t oppose it?”

The one who questioned this wasn’t the Court Count.

Rather, it was the Inquisitor standing near Beliareus. To this puzzled question, the Blazing Lord nodded.

“The Star may not agree, but at least won’t interfere. The Star isn’t one to strip me of my power or burn me alive just because I personally help the Pantheon.”

The Star is quite magnanimous that way. The Blazing Lord, evaluated as having the greatest firepower among all contractors, answered thus and winked at Llewellyn who was looking at him.

“Even if everything goes wrong, it’ll be fine.”

Only Llewellyn and a select few knew why. The Star had already made an offer to Llewellyn.

A last resort if everything went wrong. Just thinking about it brought an inexplicable sense of peace.

How reassuring it was to have an emergency escape button to press in the worst-case scenario. Llewellyn nodded with a sour expression, and people’s gazes converged on him.

“What will you do, Llewellyn?”

Asked the Inquisitor who had introduced himself as Berben. Behind him were several familiar faces.

Isla, who had been with him since the beginning of his journey, and Melody, who despite having lost her eyes, remained to help Llewellyn.

Lorian, who was neither of the Three Clans nor the Pantheon, but had volunteered to be Llewellyn’s knight.

His sister who had adapted well despite originating from the same world as Llewellyn, and thus was always a great help to him, and the elf resting his chin on her shoulder.

Even Ortemilia, visible from afar, watching Llewellyn.

And that wasn’t all. There was the “Mourner,” Valterok, Lie Hezedia, Knight Arba, and even the Sword Saint.

With even the Sword Saint’s swordsmen standing guard, Llewellyn felt it was worth trying.

Llewellyn’s gaze turned, and the Three Clans looked at their king with unwavering expressions.

Llewellyn spoke.

“Prepare for a defensive battle.”

His gaze turned again, this time toward the people of the Pantheon.

“Let’s fight with the fate of the world at stake.”

A smile that exuded fighting spirit. A smile that suggested he had intended this from the beginning.

*

After that, there wasn’t much else to do.

But Llewellyn wasn’t foolish enough to be mistaken about this, as tensions still existed between the Three Clans and the Pantheon.

He remained poised to intervene if those tensions seemed about to erupt, but…

That never happened.

As Llewellyn had surmised, such behavior would be childish. While humans often act childishly, the kind of person who would do so wouldn’t have become an Inquisitor and traveled to such a distant land in the first place.

So the concerns Llewellyn had didn’t materialize, and he retreated with an inexplicable sense of disappointment.

‘I don’t know much about defensive warfare anyway.’

If this were a game, he could have helped with brilliant control and initiation, but what they were discussing wasn’t that kind of problem.

Issues like supplies, shift rotations, formation and maintenance of defense lines—even if Llewellyn participated in the discussions, he could only offer yes or no answers, so it was better to step back and hear everything after the discussions were complete.

So Llewellyn unintentionally left the conversation. Naturally, the most nimble person among the Pantheon’s core leadership welcomed him.

“Sejin!”

The name called out wasn’t unfamiliar. A name used longer than “Llewellyn.”

Llewellyn saw his sister quickly approaching and throwing herself into his arms.

He liked the warmth spreading from her embrace and her distinctive scent. Llewellyn could finally breathe a sigh of relief, escaping the feeling of wearing ill-fitting clothes.

“Noona.”

“Are you okay? Did they do anything to you? And why is Lorian in tatters again?”

His sister asked various questions while checking her brother’s body.

If it had been the old Yoon Sejin, he might not have understood, but Llewellyn knew this was a form of “affection.”

More precisely, it was closer to jealousy, but it was something he had to endure having accepted his sister as both sister and lover.

And… there was also an issue that couldn’t be overlooked. Llewellyn looked at Lorian’s appearance as his sister mentioned.

Clothes that had been practically torn apart from excessive excitement while rolling around in bed.

Some parts had been torn off to serve as tissues for Llewellyn, leaving the outfit in a state too radical to be called clothes.

The skirt was short, and the top barely covered her. The exposure level was extremely high, but rather than frowning, it was a sight that naturally drew exclamations.

No wonder his sister was suspicious.

“Well…”

But that wasn’t all.

Lucilla briefly froze when she saw the figure walking behind Lorian.

“Emperor.”

The figure approached, undeterred by Lucilla’s cold voice.

Lucilla straightened her back and stared directly, ignoring the illusion that she was looking into a mirror.

They were the same height. Same build. The differences were in their facial expressions, hair length, and attire.

Unlike Lucilla, who preferred neat, simple attire with long flowing hair and a gentle, caring expression, the Emperor was the opposite.

Her short hair, cut for practicality, swayed lightly in the breeze, and her expression was enigmatic, almost mocking.

It was a different feeling. Llewellyn watched as the Emperor and his sister faced each other.

He would have preferred them to stand even closer together, but he had no intention of voluntarily becoming trash by suggesting it. It wasn’t the right situation anyway.

“What nerve do you have to come here after driving me out?”

Lucilla’s eyes darkened. Only her gray pupils shone like the moon at night, and the magical power flowing from her body distorted the space.

Yet the Emperor neither cowered nor hesitated, silently gazing at Lucilla.

It wasn’t a glare but a gaze with slightly raised eyes, causing Lucilla to hesitate.

Perhaps it would be better to deal with this quickly, she thought.

After all, Lucilla knew herself well.

Not in the sense of “know thyself,” but rather…

She had come to understand how her brother saw her, how he had been looking at her all this time.

Could appearance truly have had no influence on that fact? Lucilla knew it had.

She believed her brother, Yoon Sejin, could also desire the Emperor. It was almost like an imprint she had left on him for life.

So Lucilla was wary. She didn’t welcome the addition of another love rival.

Although her brother wished for everyone to get along like one happy family, that was only because Lucilla’s position was unique.

But the Emperor looked exactly like Lucilla.

In fact, she was created in Lucilla’s image.

And being modeled after Lucilla, she could be considered a “relative.”

Though it was close to a misunderstanding, Lucilla thought that being a relative had significantly influenced her winning her brother’s love, so…

Lucilla felt threatened.

The Emperor smiled as if reading that threat.

Her mouth opened. What seductive words would come out, what temptation…

‘No, that’s not it. It might be something that affects Sejin’s plan.’

Lucilla was about to take action with that compromise in mind, but…

Faster than all of that, words were heard.

“It’s been a long time, little sister.”

The Emperor’s words. As Lucilla froze, about to take action, and as Melody and Eshatherna, who had caught up, tensed at the magical power they sensed.

Lucilla tilted her head.

“…Who are you calling little sister?”

Since their family tree hadn’t been properly sorted out yet.

While Llewellyn and Lorian, who hadn’t had a chance to say anything, watched cautiously, the identical faces glared at each other.