Isula struck Wyde.
Wyde attacked Tis-ha.
For a poetic ending, Tis-ha attacking Isula might have been fitting, but for now, Tis-ha and Isula were on the same side.
Regardless, in a battlefield where most soldiers were already exhausted, the fanatics charged in.
However, most of the fanatics weren’t truly enemies. They weren’t intoxicated or frenzied; after a few of them were killed, they tried to retreat.
At that moment, Wyde set the fleeing fanatics ablaze, commanding the rest to keep fighting—a fatal mistake.
Tis-ha shouted that he would spare anyone who repented and converted to the Sacred Light Religion.
For context, Tis-ha was a tremendous hero in the Ansellus Kingdom. A virtuous hero. His reputation alone was persuasive enough to make terrified followers turn their swords.
Even among them were some of the lower-ranked blessed individuals.
It was a testament to Wyde’s lack of charisma.
Still, the overall balance of power on the battlefield didn’t change much. Wyde and his powerful lieutenants remained a significant threat.
It was undoubtedly a dangerous moment.
Despite suffering heavy losses that would typically call for a tactical retreat, Wyde dismissed his subordinates’ pleas to fall back, declaring that if he didn’t kill Tis-ha now, he never would.
Remarkable insight, isn’t it?
Both sides were building for vastly different futures. Tis-ha was securing the Ansellus Kingdom as his stronghold, while the Mirae cult was in an increasingly precarious position.
The power gap would only widen over time.
Thus, Wyde disregarded the casualties among his followers and launched his attack.
By sunset, Wyde had gained a clear advantage.
The battle seemed to be nearing its conclusion.
But then, unexpectedly, reinforcements arrived.
Tis-ha hadn’t called for help, yet an army came from the south and attacked Wyde.
Amazingly, the reinforcements were led by the Earl.
His reasoning was laughable:
He claimed he acted for the sake of the Ansellus Kingdom, saying that when faced with an evil heretic, unity was paramount.
Though his actions were clearly driven by ambition, he made such declarations. Nevertheless, Tis-ha accepted his help.
Even with the Earl’s aid, the battle only barely reached a stalemate. The Earl’s forces were also fatigued from prolonged fighting.
Wyde furiously denounced the Earl, but the Earl rebuffed him with a single retort. Then he and Tis-ha, shouting the name of the Sacred Light, charged together.
At this point, a rather dishonorable event occurred.
Yes, dishonorable.
Light poured from the heavens, healing everyone nearby.
Kehihi.
A god.
Yes, a god clearly intervened. Oh? So gods really exist?
The priest drew power directly from their deity. I had hypothesized it might work like a fantastical psychic ability, but I was wrong.
There was a god up there.
What happened next hardly needs explanation. The tide of battle turned instantly as the wounded recovered, and Wyde and his forces were defeated.
As defeat became inevitable, Wyde tried to flee again, but this time, a short blade pierced his heart from behind.
It was Isula.
She had exacted her revenge. But at the cost of her life, as her entire body was incinerated by Wyde’s violet flames.
Though the burns must have been agonizing, she died with a smile.
Two lights descended to me.
Plop.
Wyde, who had always been victorious and yearned to surpass everyone else.
Isula, who, after her defeat, had been taken in by Witega and felt a blend of paternal love and affection for him.
Their stories ended there.
But Tis-ha’s story continued.
He accepted those who had converted and executed those who fought to the bitter end. Then, he returned to the capital.
Shortly afterward, he married the queen and became king.
The reason? Simple. He had shown them a miracle. As I’ve said, the Ansellus Kingdom is a deeply devout Sacred Light nation. In a moment of crisis, a god had directly blessed them and helped them defeat the heretics.
The testimony came from none other than the Earl, who had once been Tis-ha’s adversary.
No longer a power-hungry noble, the Earl described the event like a devoted believer who had witnessed a miracle, and no one could deny it.
If they tried?
Well, some did, but they were branded heretics and beaten to death.
And so, the ever-diligent king who could endure endless nights was born.
Afterward, he married the former queen, took a concubine, and was severely scolded by the queen for it.
Still, he had children and lived a relatively good life.
Meanwhile, Andrew steadily expanded the Mirae cult.
Perhaps having learned from the Future Hope Sect, he didn’t rush but carefully gathered followers, moderating exploitation to avoid excessive harm while growing the cult’s influence.
During this time, he also had his subordinates prepare to summon me.
On the day Wyde marched against Tis-ha with his followers, Andrew withheld his subordinates. As a result, some blessed individuals remained, including several who had mastered Yasle’s magic.
Not just one—but several.
Yes.
That’s right.
They prepared to summon me.
Not bad.
Since they’re familiar faces, it will be easier to act once I’m summoned.
Andrew took his time preparing the sacrifices.
But ultimately, he failed.
But the summoning ritual, meticulously verified by multiple people, failed.
Everyone was deeply disappointed. But that wasn’t the real issue. Failure could always lead to another attempt, right? What was truly dangerous was that the opportunity itself was now at risk.
A greater crisis had emerged.
The blessed individuals were being killed one by one.
Even I didn’t know what was happening. Looking into the memories of the deceased provided no answers. Their heads simply snapped off—just like that. Even the last blessed individual, who died in terror, left only fragmented clues. However, one thing was clear: no commoners had been killed during the eradication of Andrew’s cult.
In other words, someone had explicitly targeted the blessed individuals.
As a result, I have no idea what became of Andrew afterward. I lost all my vantage points.
And it wasn’t just Andrew’s people who were killed. Even those who had managed to survive and flee far away were hunted down and killed.
One by one, they all perished.
Among them was someone attempting to summon me, which was infuriating.
Several times, it felt like they were on the verge of success.
But I could only sit and watch as my harvest disappeared, again and again.
Why not go after Tis-ha, then?
He’s the most well-known blessed individual!
Why hunt down those who fled to remote places? No! Those were my hard-earned guests from the advertisements!
It’s heartbreaking.
Fueled by frustration, I searched the memories of the slain and the perspectives of the living. And then, a thought occurred to me.
As I examined things more closely, I began to wonder:
Did their attempts truly fail?
Did they really fail because of some mistake? These were people more intelligent than me, individuals who had deciphered Yasle’s magic and conducted the rituals.
It didn’t add up.
Could someone have been interfering?
Preventing me from returning to that world?
If that’s the case, I’ll need to change my advertising strategy. I’ll leave it in a book.
Yes, that’s right.
If someone is specifically targeting the blessed, I need to design a system where non-blessed individuals can summon me.
With a book, anyone could summon me. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? It’s a brilliant idea. If I ever move to another world, I’ll leave behind books there as well.
But that alone isn’t enough.
There are too few people I can bless. Isn’t there a way to do this remotely?
Not just harvesting, but creating more blessed individuals to spread my influence.
I’ve decided on my next goal.
To create blessing proxies.
However, no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn’t figure out how to proceed.
Time just passed.
So much time passed that I couldn’t tell if people were dying from murder or simply from old age.
By now, Tis-ha had become an undisputed great king. Not only had he rebuilt the Ansellus Kingdom, but he had expanded it even further.
Most kingdoms east of the Skard Rock Desert now worshipped the Sacred Light Religion. And among them emerged a kingdom ruled by someone directly blessed by the divine.
The Ansellus Kingdom grew significantly, absorbing smaller neighboring kingdoms.
However, at the age of sixty, Tis-ha abdicated his throne to his son, a young man with hair the same shade of violet as his own.
Despite his regenerative abilities keeping him youthful—he looked barely fifty—he passed on the throne while still in good health.
He spent the rest of his days honoring his late wife and living with the one who remained.
More time passed, and his wives all preceded him in death.
By the time his son passed the throne to his own son, Tis-ha had grown frail. Even with his regenerative abilities, the conditions of the early modern age were too harsh to overcome.
Surrounded by his children and grandchildren, he said his final goodbyes and closed his eyes.
His final spark of life was extinguished.
And so, the time had come to fulfill the contract.
I said:
"I will grant you me. But in exchange, when you’ve finished everything, I will take everything you have. What do you think?"
When you’ve finished everything, I will take everything.
At the time, I thought this meant I’d simply take Tis-ha’s warmth. But that wasn’t it. His children. His grandchildren.
The threads extended from him to his descendants.
I could grasp them. The divine blessing he received had flowed into all those people. Ordinarily, I should only take Tis-ha’s warmth. That would have been the safe choice.
But.
I.
Hate.
The gods.
I reached out to all of them.
But just like with Yasle, there was a veil, though this time it felt different. The light around Tis-ha was encased.
So.
What.
The contract comes first.
I shattered the veil and seized everything he had built in one swoop.
Craack.
Oh?
From the core of Tis-ha, cracks spread outward like a broken glass pane. Those cracks extended to all his descendants, threading through their heads like fine lines. But no one seemed to notice.
Craack.
The fissure widened. It didn’t feel like being pulled upward as before—it was more like finding a ledge and climbing to higher ground.
So I did.
Shatter.
There wasn’t an actual sound of breaking.
But alongside the shattered veil surrounding the light, a massive opening appeared. I grabbed hold and entered.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a room familiar to Tis-ha. As I looked around, I saw figures with heads encased in dark purple spheres, standing eerily still. They emitted no light or warmth, resembling something out of a horror game.
Looking down, I saw cracks spreading across the floor like broken glass, replacing Tis-ha’s upper torso. It looked like a flower growing atop his lower body.
Inside the cracks, there wasn’t flesh or blood—only endless darkness.
So this is where I came from.
I approached a nearby window, where I saw a form emitting erratic flashes of light, like broken polygons.
Is this what I look like? Couldn’t I have a cooler or prettier form?
Oh. I’ve reverted to Rebecca’s form.
But I feel freer than when I was inside Rebecca’s body.
Shatter!
Suddenly, the window beside me shattered, and a silver-haired girl, once wielding a skeletal staff, entered—a figure I hadn’t seen in ages.
She looked around before collapsing on the spot, her gaze locking onto me.
Yes.
Right at me.
I walked toward her and greeted her for the first time in a long while.
"Hello, Witch of Delight."
Hyungkeshni smiled widely—a frightened smile, the kind someone shows when fear leaves them with no other expression.
"Or perhaps this is more fitting?"
I crouched in front of her to meet her gaze.
"It’s been a while. I’m glad to see you again, Hyungkeshni."
Kehihi.