Chapter 90
As soon as the Pope finished speaking, a warm stream fell down Elia’s face. The meaning of those tears seemed both regretful and strangely joyful at the same time.
Nielsen and the Pope looked on silently, unable to utter another word.
“To turn everything back…”
Elia murmured the words with her eyes closed. If she were to sum up all the years she had endured, that would be it, a fate she never wished for.
The entire world before her was darkness. Through it, all the moments granted to her flickered by like fleeting sparks.
A person who shouldn’t have existed, a time that should never have been. That was the most fitting description of the Elia before them now.
“Please, pray that God will forgive me.”
With a determined look, Elia lifted her eyelids again. The Pope gazed at her and slowly nodded. Elia finally clenched her trembling hands tightly.
“This is a necklace that has sealed divine power.”
The Pope removed the necklace from around his neck and handed it to Elia. It was a necklace he always carried as if it were part of himself. When the tiny pendant caught the light of the world, it shimmered with a mysterious glow.
“Compared to the magic Belial wields, this is utterly insufficient. It can only hold that power back for about a day…”
The moment Elia took the necklace from the Pope’s hand, a brilliant radiance burst forth. It was as if the relic responded to Elia’s touch and warmth.
“The sacred relic is reacting to you, Lady.”
The Pope looked at Elia with a hint of surprise. The holy aura emanating from the relic now surrounded Elia, as if purifying the space around her. Bathed in this strange glow, Elia resembled an angel awaiting salvation.
‘Could it be…?’
A suspicious thought flashed through the Pope’s mind. The relic responded only to those with divine power, and only to those with a high degree of it. Even among the priests, only the archbishops or saints called by God had such a reaction. So why now…?
The Pope looked at Elia with a confused gaze before shaking his head. If Elia truly possessed that level of divine power, it would have been impossible for the Pope not to sense it.
Standing up, the Pope spoke firmly.
“You must hurry, Lady.”
The meaning behind the Pope’s words was clear: prepare for death without delay. Elia did not respond but gripped the necklace tightly. Its gentle, pure light seemed to seep into and spread throughout her entire body.
Suddenly, Elia felt her heart pounding fiercely and rapidly.
“Before dawn breaks, the ritual must be completed.”
Pope Winter quickly got up to prepare for the approaching dawn ceremony. Around the temple, barriers formed by divine power were already being set up, and priests with strong spiritual energy gathered one after another.
Amidst this bustle, Nielsen and Elia remained quietly in place for a long while.
Nielsen glanced at Elia. The woman with eyes gently closed, resembled an ancient painting, faded yet profoundly beautiful. Standing at the edge of a cliff, how could she remain so calm?
Nielsen quietly took in her final image, knowing she might be all he could hold onto until Cyrone’s return.
“Miss, this…”
Breaking the silence, Nielsen pulled something from his robe. It was a sealed document stamped with the empire’s seal. Elia opened her eyes and stared quietly at the paper placed before her.
“What is this?”
“In case anything were to happen to His Highness, he entrusted this to me to deliver to you.”
Nielsen paused.
“I wished His Highness could return and deliver this himself… but with no time left, I must fulfill his role.”
Once today swallows Elia, Cyrone would awaken with the next day. Their time spun like sun and moon, always revolving but never coexisting. Nielsen was now the bridge between those times. Retracing faint memories, he continued.
“During her lifetime, the late Empress always walked ahead of the Crown Prince. She wished to prevent unforeseen events before they occurred.”
Outside the window, the sunset bled red, and Nielsen’s voice was calm as it carried on the crimson shadows.
“Perhaps from always trailing behind the late Empress’s back, at some point, His Highness began to look only forward.”
That figure, always teetering as if on the edge of a cliff, wasn’t merely a habit but obsession. Beyond obsession, instinct. After witnessing the edge of time, Nielsen began to understand Cyrone’s heart little by little.
“After the Empress passed, it only worsened. No matter what happened, he never dared look back.”
“If that was after…”
Elia’s voice trembled at Nielsen’s unexpected words.
For decades since that event, Loran Hestia’s presence in the empire was a tacit taboo. No one dared recall the Empress’s memory or speak of that day.
For Elia, it was the first time she heard these details.
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