Ch.69The Great Sinner (1)

“This can’t be happening.”

Astel clearly apologized to me. This world was supposed to be nothing more than a memory within Nepy’s mind.

Astel’s words and actions resembled those of an otherworldly human with a sense of self in this mental realm.

“Connections are like a net. My friend’s bond reached you, and now it reaches me. You need not doubt.”

‘First Emperor Astelnerca… Is this person some kind of god…?’

“If I were a god… I wouldn’t have forced this eternal fate upon you. How sad.”

Astel removed his imperial crown and bowed his head. I was greatly surprised by his solemn expression of gratitude.

“All I can do is pretend to be a farmer planting feeble possibilities. Truly, again, I apologize.”

Astel apologized sorrowfully. Without a word, he bit his fingertip to draw blood. The precious fluid dripping from his royal body was unmistakably golden.

The released golden blood gradually transformed into an object. The blood twisted and intertwined like threads, taking the form of a chain. Astel held out a small golden chain to me and summoned an intense light.

“I know this is presumptuous. Knowing this better than anyone, I desperately ask you. Please save the connections I loved.”

‘Wait, Astelnerca!’

The golden radiance engulfed the world. Even as my consciousness crumbled under the overwhelming light, Astel’s wish came through clearly.

His final words were as devout as a priest’s mournful prayer.

“May there be peace in your future, I pray.”

◇

After Astel’s one-sided conversation ended, I found myself positioned at a pillar decorated with golden chains. More precisely, I had returned to Nepy’s body, who was touching the golden chain.

“Astel… will die.”

A determined fate. The wise emperor realized his ability was too limited to twist destiny. Astel would die in two years. Nepy decided to accept this premise.

“Death… what does it mean to die? What is breath, that once extinguished, can never be rekindled…”

A void born from the pain of loss dominated his heart. From his youth as a male courtesan through times of war, he had lived a life accustomed to having things taken away.

Yet he hadn’t been wounded by it. There was no impact in losing something he never considered his own to begin with.

Now it was different. He had formed connections, including with Astel. He possessed memories he didn’t want to lose. He wished to share eternity with everyone.

At least until the day he vanished from this world.

Thus he vowed:

“All negativity meant for Lorian shall be redirected to me. All harmful diseases, malicious energies, and human malice. All impure things in this world targeting her shall be directed toward me instead.”

Nepy was the sole master of the chain acknowledged by Astel. The golden chain responded with beautiful light, answering his wish. As long as he stood tall in this world, he would be the master of this eternally binding contract.

If Astel had already been consumed by a fate that couldn’t be twisted, then at least Lorian should be different. As long as he lived, she would never experience the pain of loss.

Nepy’s fist clenched so tightly that blood dripped. He quickly wiped it with a handkerchief and left the hall, looking around as if nothing had happened.

Lorian. Suddenly he wanted to see Lorian. Desperately. Only by confirming her healthy complexion would his frantic heart finally calm down.

He ran without direction. Like a hunting dog that had spotted small prey, he recklessly searched the vast imperial palace. With his rough breathing reaching its peak, he eventually reached the garden and dropped beads of sweat.

His efforts bore fruit.

“Nes.”

She called his name while leisurely strolling through the garden. Those mere two syllables provided more refreshment than ice-cold liquor.

“Lorian.”

Nepy suddenly rushed forward and embraced Lorian passionately. His attitude was that of lovers reuniting after facing life and death.

Though surprised by the sudden hug, Lorian simply placed her arms around his back and stroked his head.

“It’s okay, Nes. I’m right here.”

“Lorian. Lorian… Lorian…!”

“Yes, Nes. It’s alright. Let’s stay like this until you calm down.”

“Thank you. For being by my side.”

“Because I love you.”

Apart from being immersed in Nepy’s emotions, I found this scene awe-inspiring. It literally felt like witnessing adult love, filling me with admiration.

‘It’s like a mature, dry romance between adults. Compared to that, my confession to Irefi was…’

As awkward as a child introducing themselves in a classroom full of strangers. I seemed to have blurted out a jumble of disorganized words.

I could have created a cool scene like a manga protagonist! Somehow I feel sorry toward Irefi.

‘Still, I miss you, Irefi.’

Watching these two made me feel impatient. I wanted to immediately apply the words and skills I’d learned from observing the old man and Lorian’s romance. Surely Irefi would appreciate it too.

The sky of the past was clear, and the people were brave and wise. It seemed like peaceful days would continue under prosperity, with everyone deserving to sleep quietly.

The point where their life trajectories would take a dramatic turn soon revealed itself.

Exactly two years later, as Astelnerca had prophesied.

The first emperor passed away. The corpse, which “died naturally” with an extremely peaceful expression, had such good color that the person who discovered him didn’t realize he was dead.

Nepy was twenty-four. Lorian was twenty-six when this major event occurred.

◇

The newly enthroned second ruler was an empress. Astel had passed away, and her mother had died after 14 years as regent due to deteriorating health.

The young empress was a child who had inherited Astel’s brilliance. Though backed by the support of the ducal houses, her dignity in commanding the palace ministers in an instant showed the qualities of one born to rule.

Upon her enthronement, she declared:

“I hereby prohibit marriages between the founding nobles and the four ducal houses.”

The empress was well aware of the Eldchain contract. This was merely an example to show that the ducal houses must submit to imperial authority by restricting their rights.

Surprisingly, Nepy and Lorian did not express opposition. This law was established on the premise that their common-law relationship would be overlooked.

They cared for Astel’s descendants and the empire as much as they loved each other.

“Godfather, are you alright?” the empress asked.

“Do as you wish, Your Majesty.”

“When it’s just us, couldn’t you call me Yernie like when I was little?”

Yernia Euglinas. The name of the empress of that era. The founding heads of houses often called her by the nickname Yernie.

“Ahem.”

“Hehe.”

“You’ve become quite cheeky.”

“I wonder who I learned it from.”

“Heh.”

Nepy smiled gently. In his late thirties, Nepy was still young. One might mistake him for an older brother looking after his niece.

“By the way, how is Duchess Lorian these days? I understand her due date is any day now.”

“Such a young child, concerned about such matters.”

“Well, I’ll experience it myself someday.”

“Yernie?”

“I know. I’ve accepted my fate to die young like Father. Before I leave this world, I must find a husband and bear an heir. That’s my duty.”

“Yernia… you…”

“Don’t feel bad, Godfather. I’m not saying this for sympathy. But… no, never mind.”

The girl spoke decisively. It was hard to believe she was only fourteen, given her detachment.

It was sad to see someone with a girl’s appearance who had shed her childlike nature too early. Even Astel’s childhood wasn’t as mature as hers.

Yernia and Nepy’s footsteps reached the main gate of the imperial palace. More precisely, their destination was the splendid carriage of the founding nobles.

Just as the coachman opened the carriage door, tiny hands wrapped around Nepy’s waist.

“Godfather.”

“What is it?”

“Thank you always. For the grace of caring for me when I have no father or mother. I’ll never forget it. And I’m sorry for forcing you to be unable to become a proper married couple. You and the duchess always cherish and protect me… yet I repay your kindness with harm.”

Yernia’s voice was trembling. Tears flowed down her back, wetting his shirt with the girl’s emotions.

Nepy gently called her name.

“Yernie.”

“Yes, Godfather.”

“No father turns away from his daughter’s circumstances.”

“Godfather…?”

“I am your other father, aren’t I?”

“Ugh, uuuu…”

“If it still bothers you, think of Astel. I received lifelong grace from your father. This much is hardly something to feel sorry about.”

“Thank you, Godfather. Really, really, truly… thank you… ugh, sniff.”

Nepy forgot his dignity and stroked the head of the girl who had collapsed in tears.

It was the first time the empress, who seemed born an adult, took steps as a child.

The sunset scorched their cheeks as it sank below the horizon. Only then did Yernia abruptly stop crying and return to being an empress.

The red sunset hid the empress’s reddened eyes as she saw off the carriage, maintaining an appearance of calm.

At this point, a warm heat still filled my chest. It seemed like Nepy could overcome adversity and achieve a bright future.

After all, he had everything needed to be a protagonist.

The one premise I misunderstood was assuming that Nepy’s perfect abilities and conduct guaranteed a happy ending.

However, the apparent stability was actually a fragile worldview. It was merely a pile of straw built on a patched-up tent.

Time did not stop, bringing a black curtain as the wheels of the carriage rolled on. A dark night sky settled over Nepy as he arrived at the Feita manor.

‘Something feels off.’

The guards didn’t dare look at him directly and kept their eyes down. The exterior of the mansion was too quiet, and the interior lights were excessively bright.

It might be my imagination, but this scene felt like the calm before a storm.

When he opened the door of the mansion, sensing something amiss…

“Lord Nepy!!!”

A woman came running frantically, abandoning all dignity. She was the head maid of the Feita manor. This normally dignified woman was now pale and shouting.

Nepy’s heart pounded with anxiety.

The head maid fell to her knees, her legs giving way, and pleaded:

“The Duchess… the Duchess…!”