The Pope smiled and snapped his fingers.

At the same moment, the illusion of the fake Aria transformed into light and vanished.

But she didn’t notice any of it.

“Ian!!”

Her beloved had collapsed, so there was nothing else to catch her eye in that moment.

Aria rushed straight to the fallen hero.

She immediately created a wall of magic to block any outside interference and looked at her lover’s state.

He wasn’t breathing.

The Holy Sword was stained dark.

A curse poured out from him, strong enough to challenge her very existence.

No matter how many times she looked, the situation seemed utterly hopeless.

But she couldn’t give up. To her, that man was everything.

Brilliant light burst forth again and again.

Healing magic was cast one after another. However, there was no magic in this world that could bring the dead back to life.

“Please wake up. I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.”

Even as she howled and shed tears, the outcome wouldn’t change.

A tremendous sound reverberated.

Again and again.

The item she had crafted herself, with strength certainly beyond the norm. Yet, standing before her were the Emperor of the Empire and the Pope of the Holy Church.

No matter how solid a barrier it was, it couldn’t withstand them.

The crack in the barrier grew larger.

With a loud crack, it split apart.

What followed was a one-sided massacre.

Having exhausted all her magic uselessly, she was no match for the duo’s combined strength.

In the end, she was pierced through the heart by the same sword that had wounded the hero.

But… no peace was granted.

Even as she lost hope and cried out in despair, her curses went unheard by the two men.

To them, other humans were merely pawns on a board.

There was no one who would consider the feelings of the game pieces while playing. Ultimately, only one thing mattered to them.

Was there any value in using them?

And she was certainly a usable piece.

The line between life and death.

The Pope’s corrupted divine power forced the woman into a state of paralysis.

It stripped away her free will, rummaged through her memories, and obliterated her useless personality.

What had once been a person was now becoming a puppet.

But… cruelly enough, misfortune didn’t end there.

From far off, small footsteps could be heard.

Someone was walking toward this place. And it was painfully obvious who would come here.

The door opened.

The girl, afraid to sleep alone, awoke and opened the door she absolutely should not have.

“……Huh?”

The girl, rubbing her sleepy eyes, suddenly froze.

Her face quickly blanched. Her breathing quickened. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

A sword was stuck in her once-reliable father’s heart.

Her mother, who had always caressed her when she couldn’t sleep, lay here, cut and torn apart.

As Yuli stood there, bewildered and scared, the old man with golden hair approached her.

Yuli wanted to run away from the horrifying scene before her, but she couldn’t.

Her body wouldn’t move. Her trembling legs refused to obey.

“As I’ve said before, she must not die. If this child dies and the next Saint is born, it’ll be trouble for both of us, won’t it?”

The monster, rummaging through her mother’s body, said that.

“So, her wings must be clipped to keep her safe.”

The white-haired man continued speaking.

Erasing her memories and bringing her into the royal family.

Keeping her oblivious to her powers and watching her thoroughly until “that day” comes.

“I understand. You’d better keep your promise.”

Yet the girl didn’t comprehend these words. She only felt immense fear at what was unfolding before her eyes.

As she cried tears, the white-haired man approached her slowly, step by step.

The girl weeping before her parents’ corpses.

With an eerily vacant smile, the man infused his twisted divine power into her.

With that final sight, my vision gradually faded into darkness.

*

But… my true consciousness did not fade.

Not the previous Hero, but my soul, as a modern-day person, floated after the Hero’s demise.

The previous one was already gone. What was left for me to see in such a state?

Just then, the old man with golden hair spoke.

“Your character remains unchanged.”

The Emperor of the Empire stood before the corpse of the Hero and uttered those words.

“Was it that obvious? How embarrassing.”

The white-haired man replied, his words contradicting his emotionless expression, simply wearing a hollow grin.

It made me wonder if he was even human.

“Well, it would be a lie to say my personal feelings aren’t involved. But he was chosen by that almighty god, wasn’t he?”

The man spoke disdainfully.

The “almighty god”—there was evident hatred in his voice when he said that.

It was clear that he felt something from the tale of losing a child.

He had once brushed it off in the last work, but surely the god of light was taking care of that child in a gentle way.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

Both the Emperor and that man were certainly up to something troublesome.

I strained to catch every word they shared when I heard another voice calling.

A voice calling for Ian. Not me, but the Black-haired Hero.

But that was strangely odd.

All the Hero party members were gathered here.

In such a situation, who would come running?

Despite my confusion, the urgent voice echoed on.

Before long, someone burst through the doors with a loud bang.

And in my sight was…

Aria, panting and racing toward me.

Not mocking the fool who had deceived and killed her husband, but genuinely rushing in tears at the sight of her husband’s body.

The white-haired man laughed and snapped his fingers.

Simultaneously, the illusion of the fake Aria crumbled away in a burst of light.

…Only then did I realize what that “malevolent joke” truly was.