episode_0052

Two days had already passed since the heroes were confined to the guest chambers.

While I was busy with my duties, I received a report from the Legal Officer and then headed to the audience chamber where the throne was located.

Thud. Thud. I arrived at the audience chamber and came to a stop. Standing before me was a familiar face. Dressed in the unique attire of a Prophet, much like Cerebus, yet appearing almost like royal robes, it was a truly peculiar and antiquated outfit. A distinctive elderly man, with such an appearance and curly beard, greeted me with a slight bow.

“Sargon.”

“Lord Morgoth.”

Sargon. The acting representative of Cerebus, called the Creator of Gram, and the most loyal among the loyal, who had followed Cerebus longer than anyone else in Gram. At the same time, he was an incredibly old man, so ancient that he had seen the Navigator’s face himself, the oldest person I knew.

“The Creator is waiting.”

There was no benefit in speaking at length with this elder. With the wisdom and perceptiveness gained from at least thousands of years of life, even a brief exchange of words meant he would effortlessly see through your true intentions.

So I expressed myself as simply as possible with a light nod, and Sargon, with his characteristic benevolent smile, opened the audience chamber door with divine power.

Screeeech────

Beyond the wide-open door, as I stepped into the audience chamber. Thump── The door closed, and simultaneously, as my gaze slowly lifted, I saw an old man standing before the throne.

It was Cerebus.

“……”

The old man silently gazed down at the throne. Though it appeared simple, he ran his index finger over it as if it were the world’s most precious treasure. He stroked the throne’s surface carefully and gently, as if wiping away dust.

“To get here–” The old man began. “It took decades, Lord Morgoth.”

He had relinquished his position and honor, once revered as a Consul in the Minerva Mountains, the Prophets’ dwelling place. He had evaded the Prophets’ pursuit, as well as the Empire’s, hidden among shadow factions, gathered talent from various places, and built the force known as Gram.

“Nearly a century was dedicated to reaching this position.”

His violet eyes slowly turned towards the knight.

“For you, who are still young, you probably can’t truly grasp how long these decades might have felt like an eternity.”

“……”

I might not know a century, but I understood the weight of several decades to some extent. Though not comparable, I too had the experience of waiting for someone’s return for a very long time.

“…The Imperial Knights Commander was assassinated by Oh Shin, and the capture of all the heroes who set out to retake the five cities has been completed.” I told him that Astolfo, Talfinus, and Bradamante, the remaining three heroes, had been captured and were now being escorted to the capital. He nodded as if he already knew.

“Of course.” With the power of the Golden Bough, he had rendered the Prophets’ foresight useless and made arrangements for only himself to exercise foresight until the coup d’état was over.

“……”

That’s why I couldn’t help but become even more curious. The heroes were the greatest obstacle for us, who had seized control of the Empire, so why had he insisted on keeping them alive?

“Why did you spare the heroes?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You know, don’t you? What I’m thinking.”

Excluding Wezen, where the ancient emperors resided, the five cities had fallen into our hands, and other regions throughout the Empire had already come under our control through covert operations. That meant the coup d’état was nearing its end.

‘The power of the Golden Bough, he said, was only valid until the coup d’état ended.’

If so, the Prophets’ foresight would soon return. Even if it didn’t apply to the heroes currently captured, if the heroes who had finished subduing the Army of Death returned and joined forces with the Prophets residing in the Minerva Mountains…

‘It would be impossible for us to win.’

The might of the heroes led by Orlando, and the unique power of foresight held by the Prophets. If the two strongest forces on the continent united, we would never win against them.

“So you’re asking me about the heroes’ treatment?”

“Isn’t it better to eliminate threats?”

“Unexpected.” He said it sincerely, with a genuine sense of surprise. “Even though the woman you loved more than anyone else is one of those heroes, it’s you, of all people, who asks about their treatment.”

“……”

“Do you no longer love that woman?”

Do I no longer love that woman?

‘……’

I couldn’t easily answer that question. Even I no longer understood my own feelings. When I recalled old memories, it felt like watching a scene from a movie, and when I tried to recall emotions from long ago, they simply wouldn’t resurface. Had I deliberately forgotten, or had time’s passage simply faded them away?

It’s time to wake up from the dream.

‘……’

Or perhaps, as he said, I had simply decided to dismiss it as a dream. While recalling her face did bring an inexplicable sense of frustration, if the question was whether that was love…

“……”

Perhaps… it wasn’t love.

“…That was a long time ago.” It had been a long time since I woke from that dream.

“…Yes, I see.” As if to indicate he wouldn’t say anything further, the old man no longer mentioned Kara.

Instead, to resume the conversation that had been interrupted earlier, Cerebus suddenly began to pose a question to me.

“…Indeed, will sparing the heroes truly only be good for them?”

“?”

For a moment, I didn’t understand his words.

“All twelve heroes must be alive to win this war.” To perfectly subdue the Army of Death.

“Buried in the prophecy shown by fate, the Prophets shed more blood than necessary to protect it.” Very much so. Terribly much, to an unimaginable extent.

“The Prophets couldn’t even foresee the birth of the Army of Death.” Despite their duty to foresee great disasters, they failed to predict that the Elven Empire’s crown prince would transform into a disaster at his coronation.

“Because of that, the Prophets began the war with their prestige severely damaged, and to fulfill their prophecies, they incurred the resentment of countless people.” Starting with the kings of nations. Monarchs, nobles, politicians, mages, knights.

“And even the countless masses who make up most of this world.”

Yet, the reason they could remain unharmed, despite drawing resentment, was that countless people believed in their prophecies and had no doubt that victory would be achieved.

“But you know.” Why was it? His faint smile, accompanying those words, strangely reminded me of Roland, the Prophet of the Moon.

“What would happen if the heroes who headed to Numenlora failed to subdue the disaster, even though all twelve heroes were alive?”

At his words, a chilling sensation instantly ran down the back of my neck.

“Surely not…”

“Yes.” In contrast, he smiled as if greatly amused.

“Orlando is dead.”

***

Mount Minerva Summit The Prophets’ Dwelling

“…What did you just say?” The Prophet of Harmony. While the Prophet of Light’s position was vacant, he, representing all the Consuls, questioned the messenger who had entered the conference room, his voice trembling.

“Is that… true?”

“……” Instead of answering, the messenger bowed his head deeply, as if in grief.

“Haaah…”

“Elder Chairman-nim!”

Thump. And the elderly Prophet, upon hearing those words, slumped weakly to the ground, forgetting his dignity despite the many eyes watching him.

Other Consuls beside him briefly helped him up, while several others, having heard the messenger’s report, began discussing amongst themselves, their faces pale.

“If this is true…”

“We’re finished.”

“……”

Of course. They had so boldly boasted that they could subdue the disaster, and during the war, they had expended human lives as if they were ants, so if this news spread across the continent…

‘It’s ruin.’

Their prestige as Prophets, the power they had amassed in the name of Prophets, and even their very lives. The countless people whose trust had been betrayed would undoubtedly try to kill them at once.

“More importantly… Roland, no. The Prophet of the Moon, where on earth did he go?”

At one Consul’s words, the gazes of others turned towards him.

“Common sense dictates we should find him first! Even if Cerebus rendered our foresight useless with the Golden Bough, everyone here knows that he, who possesses the Moon’s foresight unconstrained by the Golden Bough, couldn’t possibly be unaware of the coup d’état!”

“Even if we try to find him, will the Prophet of the Moon be found?” The Prophet of Harmony said, staggering to his feet. “From the outset, just before the coup d’état, he vanished completely without a word to the Emperor. If a Prophet, especially the Prophet of the Moon who possesses foresight akin to the pinnacle of our Prophets, deliberately conceals himself, do you think he’d be found no matter how long we search?”

“Then what can we do now?”

……

At his words, a chilling silence began to settle within the conference room.

“First…” the Prophet of Harmony said. “We must conceal all information.”

“All information, you mean…”

“Everything, from start to finish.”

What they had done to the black-haired orphan from the Fallen. What proposals the Prophet of Light and the Prophet of the Moon had made, and what actions they had taken, to solidify the Prophets’ precarious position later. Lastly…

“……” At his last words, the Consuls’ expressions truly turned grim.

“Everything we’ve researched since the early Golden Age, we must completely eradicate.”

“Elder Chairman-nim, that’s…”

“This is our only way to survive.”

His gaze swept across the room.

“If you wish to somehow preserve even the faintest glimmer of hope for survival, we must burn all records of our past actions… completely.”

“That’s…”

“Otherwise, we are dead. You don’t want to die, do you?”

“……”

Who could say yes? The people of the continent viewed the Prophets as superhumans with near-omniscient intellect, but deep down, they were merely ordinary humans with divine power. Even though they had treated countless lives like flies during the war to realize the future they had seen, committing all sorts of atrocities in the name of the greater good, without valuing human lives…

They too were human, and just like any other ordinary person, they terribly feared death.

“We will incinerate everything within a day.” At one Consul’s words, the Elder Chairman-nim nodded.

Following his words, the other Consuls also began to move busily, and countless stacks of documents began to be pulled out from the restricted archives, located deep within the Prophets’ dwelling.

‘Gram will arrive here soon.’ When that happens, all the disgraces they had hidden would be revealed.

‘So, no matter what…’ All records in the restricted archives must be erased. At least to prevent the heroes, who would protect their lives, from turning their backs on them.

…

The subjugation of the Army of Death had failed.