Chapter 269

“Enough.”

A dark, viscous light began to seep from the magic circle.

It was a horrifying sight. A sharp wind swept through the room, where the ceiling, walls, and floor were covered in gloomy magic circles, and the only decoration was the Imperial flag hanging on the wall. Of the two altars standing side by side at the center, one was aggressively emitting a bluish light.

At the very center of the triangle formed by the two altars and the Imperial flag, a gaunt blonde woman lay collapsed, eyes wide with terror as they darted back and forth.

She wasn’t alone.

Another woman— the only one in the room wearing a resplendent golden dress and a tiara engraved with a sun—approached with a dagger in hand.

“At last, this ill-fated connection with you ends.”

Camille bent down and hooked Megara’s chin up with the dagger.

(T/N : Wait what? Previous chapter’s mention of Megara now makes sense then. )

Megara Lykeandros was exhausted and in agony. The days she had endured in that filthy space—living on rotten bread Camille’s subordinates tossed in now and then—had left her unable to think properly. At times she had even giggled foolishly.

Now that her mind was clear again, even breathing felt miserable.

The blade nicked her sharpened chin. Megara glared at Camille.

Camille gave a faint smile. In the past, she might have flown into a rage at the thought of someone like Megara daring to glare at her. But now, she couldn’t bring herself to feel angry at all.

If anything, she had become magnanimous—because the tedious string of defeats had finally ended, and the day of victory was approaching again.

And if the ‘sacrifice’ who would contribute the most to that victory—those precious violet eyes being the very reason she was a sacrifice in the first place—glared at her a little, what did it matter?

“You… Cough! Will die… painfully.”

Megara forced the words out in a hoarse rasp. Camille replied gently.

“If thinking so brings peace to your heart, then think as you will. Thanks to your violet eyes, we captured the Grand Duchess, so you have merit.”

Megara had not bloomed her Ja’an, but she was Violet Eyes. And all Violet Eyes had at least a trace of demon blood in them. Moreover, she was blonde.

A better sacrifice to seal the Grand Duchess didn’t exist. She was so ‘similar.’

At Camille’s words, Megara tried to laugh. She didn’t have the strength to sneer properly, but the corners of her mouth still lifted.

As if cursing, Megara spoke.

“Ner… Cough! ys… the people, Cough! among… the people she, Cough! touched… Cough! is there… Cough! someone… Cough, Cough, Cough! who just passed by? You… Cough! Cough, Cough, Cough!”

You will die horribly. You will suffer a pain greater than this indescribable, terrible agony I’m experiencing right now— that was what Megara wanted to say.

But Camille’s magnanimity did not extend that far.

She swung the dagger down and stabbed Megara. She chose a spot that wouldn’t kill her immediately, but would spill as much blood as possible.

The black light in the magic circle swelled.

At Elandria’s altar—the triangle’s final vertex—a pillar of light rose. Slowly, very slowly, magic began to gather within it.

It was a sign that the Grand Duchess, far away, was falling neatly into the eternal Seal.

Because the target was so distant, the magic gathered at an excruciating pace. That couldn’t be helped. At least during the initial completion, distance affected the spell’s efficiency. Wasn’t that why the Eye of Pheros had been placed within the Imperial Palace?

Unlike the Grand Duchess, who bloomed her Ja’an at eighteen, Imperial descendants were born with their Ja’an.

Once the Grand Duke was eliminated, there would be plenty of time to wait for that purple jewel to finish forming over there.

Camille sweetly inhaled the viscous energy rising from the magic circle and the sharp wind pouring from the Seal of Pheros. Then she gripped the golden perfume case hanging at her waist.

The case, meticulously crafted by a master artisan, crumpled as if it were fragile paper under a slight squeeze.

Camille smiled, satisfied.

The power of her Azure Jewel Eye had strengthened, even before the magic was complete.

Now—how would the Grand Duke react when he learned that his beloved wife would become nothing more than stone, just like his ancient ancestor?

The thought alone filled Camille with joy.

❖ ❖ ❖

The exceptionally bright full moon set, and the eastern sky gradually brightened.

Cledwyn, who had been unable to sleep all night because of a strange unease, looked up at the sky. Far beyond it, to the north, was Nerys. She was an early riser too, so perhaps she was watching the same dawn around now.

He thought it would be nice to speak with her before it began. Then she would probably brush him off, as if he were pathetic—asking if he had nothing better to do than idle chatter when countless soldiers had left their homes and families to face the final battle.

Cledwyn thought most of what she said was right.

But sometimes, it felt like she didn’t understand him at all. Fundamentally, he wasn’t interested in other people. Aside from her, there was nothing in life that mattered.

There were people he valued, of course. But there was no sentiment more important than spending time telling her he loved her.

The clear dawn air pierced his lungs. He let out a breath and brushed his hand along his sword once.

They would attack this afternoon.

There was mass in the morning. It was strange that Maindulante—hardly devout—still observed mass days so strictly even during war, but if they loosened even a little, people from other regions would start saying, ‘Even war should rest on Sundays.’

Cledwyn found that rigid custom irritating…

But it wasn’t bad.

Especially today.

The enemy, laughably, did not attack during mass—

Just then, Aidan came running.

Since taking him in as a child, Cledwyn had never seen Aidan’s face so pale. He frowned.

“What is it?”

Aidan stopped in front of him, panting hard. His eyes trembled as his mouth opened and closed, as if he didn’t know how to deliver the news.

“What is it?”

Aidan was never like this. Cledwyn narrowed his eyes.

After a beat, Aidan finally spoke.

“A messenger… an Imperial Army messenger has come. They say they’ve taken White Swan Castle, and Her Grace… that it’s all over, and we must surrender unconditionally…”

Aidan knew exactly what “taken” implied.

Cledwyn felt his heart drop.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud.

Thud.

“No.”

He muttered, then rushed into his tent.

He sat in the chair embedded with the Communication Device and poured magic into it. With every breath, each individual cell ached. No… he muttered, stupidly.

He knew, and Nerys knew, that Camille would try that convenient curse again. Nerys had said she was prepared.

It had to be a lie. There was no way someone as clever as her would be caught.

Since it was early, Nerys should have been in her bedroom. If so, she would answer quickly.

When there was no response to the first surge of magic, Cledwyn endured an eternity of pain. He forced more magic through, as if he meant to break the chair itself.

He didn’t want her to suffer that pain ever again.

A moment later, a click sounded—an answer from the other side.

Relief washed through him.

“Nerys?”

But the voice that came through was not Nerys’s. It was much brighter, far more cheerful.

In an instant, the sky and earth that had seemed ready to flip snapped back into place.

Cledwyn took a deep breath, then replied calmly.

“I see. I should ask the Pope for more of that herb. Is everything all right, Mother-in-law?”

As if to confirm it, Diane MacKinnon’s excited voice carried faintly from afar.

Cledwyn’s shoulders loosened.

Just hearing their voices told him White Swan Castle was safe. If something had happened to Nerys, those two—who would never remain calm—could not sound so at ease.

So it had to be true. Nothing had happened.

“Yes. Please tell them to enjoy themselves, Mother-in-law. We have an important operation today as well, so contact may be difficult on our end, too.”

Lady Truydd’s voice was exceedingly affectionate even through the Communication Device.