Said the silver-haired priestess, who was smoothing her own face while looking in her mirror.
There was definitely a 33rd priest.
Then the answer was simple.
The thirty-third priest, who only appeared before the devil’s eyes.
Something pretending to be a priest, naturally blending in without anyone knowing.
The flame of the Tapnel lightly spread through the air, flickering as it sensed strange energies floating around the city.
Now that the priests had been wiped out, the only people wielding divine power in Aran were Julius, Priestess Emily, Cecil, and a mysterious fourth being.
The heretic inquisitor’s steps, which had been silently moving toward the fourth point signaled by the flame, halted. Before he knew it, a woman wearing a pure white priestess’s robe appeared before his eyes, standing on the muddy ground after the rain had stopped.
“As expected, you are an excellent man. I can see why Tapnel chose you.”
A beautiful voice, reminiscent of Cecil’s, resonated as the woman slowly removed the hood attached to her priestly attire.
Lovely brown hair, icy blue eyes reminiscent of a clear autumn sky.
If Cecil Lionelta had a sister, she would look like this.
Lionelta, the Angel of Death, revealed herself to the first apostle of Tapnel.
“It is an honor to meet you like this, Angel of Death.”
“Oh my, you’re not surprised at all. I thought it would be quite the shock and was looking forward to it.”
“… Actually, I was surprised because I thought Tapnel would come.”
Julius shrugged his shoulders and joked in an uncharacteristic way.
Lionelta, watching him, smiled brightly and answered in a sonorous voice.
“I’m sorry I’m not Taphnel. But there’s no need to be disappointed. If Sister Tapnell came, it’s obvious she’d just nag you endlessly.”
The angel pointed at her ear and smiled mischievously.
Seeing her like that, Julius clenched his fists and opened his mouth to speak.
“… Didn’t you come to punish me?”
“Me? Punish you? Why would I do that?”
Lionelta slowly approached the heretic inquisitor with a puzzled expression. She whispered softly as she brought her face close, her features surprisingly similar to Cecil’s.
“A bet with the high-ranking Devil? It’s fine. We’re not such rigid angels. The fragile hearts of humans can be generously forgiven.”
“And to be precise, our power isn’t strong enough to punish you. Aren’t you the strongest inquisitor, surpassing even Tapnel, who granted you authority?”
The brown-haired angel, smiling like a little girl, circled around Julius and gazed at him with a gentle smile.
“Because you are such a pitiful child, we also support your love.”
“… So, you’re saying you won’t punish me for the bet with the ‘Emperor’s Nightmare’?”
“If we try to kill your wife by force again, are you willing to accept it?”
No answer came.
Lionelta, watching Julius as he responded with an expressionless face, smirked mischievously once more.
Until now, this had just been a trivial personal matter.
The real plan began now.
She whispered words meant to shake the heart of this poor man, who was destined to kill the saint.
The devil disguised as an angel offered a sweet fruit he could not refuse—tempting the foolish man who was willing to sacrifice his heart for the woman he loved.
“You may have heard from Cecil, but his corruption is the true cause behind all of this.”
“…Saint Erman.”
“Yes, Saint Erman. The child with a good heart, whom everyone claimed would leave his mark in history after Telmere—that child is the culprit behind all of this.”
“….”
“Actually, he hasn’t done anything evil yet. It’s the heretics, led by the released high-ranking devils, are doing whatever they please.”
“Just the fact that he, as a saint caused chaos in the world is already disrespectful to God.”
“Don’t be so stubborn. Weren’t you able to meet your beloved Cecil again because Erman freed the high-ranking devils?”
The blond-haired man lowered his head, as if he had nothing to say.
The Angel of Death glanced at him and continued to tempt him, once again displaying her elegant beauty.
“Don’t you want to know why Erman did this? What does he hope to gain, why would he join hands with the devil?”
“…Cecil.”
“Yes, that’s it. He came up with a ridiculous plan to save his dead daughter, Cecil Lionelta. Do you understand now?”
With eyes gleaming like a madwoman, she leaned in and locked eyes with Julius.
Golden eyes trembled.
‘Now, if I just say one word—just one more word—I can twist Erman’s terrible future.’
Lionelta felt the corner of her mouth twitch as she softly spoke her words, words like a sacred revelation meant to correct the wavering priest.
“Erman’s purpose is simple—using the power of high-ranking devils and angels to distort the flow of time allowed by Rom.”
Going back to the old, happy days—that was all.
“…I can go back….?”
There was no turning back now.
Now that he knew this, the man would no longer be content with the present.
Instead of being a half-wife tainted by the devil, he could reunite with the ‘real’ Cecil Lionelta—the woman he had loved all those years ago.
Long ago, the first void that swallowed the Angel of Death gently held out her hand to the priest, offering a handshake.
And then, a whisper—an offer that could not be refused.
“Take my hand, and I will take responsibility. I will help you return to the past.”
If not, Erman—who is like my child—will die.
The golden apple was held out before Julius.
A distant memory surfaced—a fairy tale barely remembered. A story about a boy who did a good deed, received a golden apple, and lived happily ever after.
Julius lifted his head and looked at the woman standing before him.
Lionelta, an angel radiating holy energy.
She was not a devil.
She offered salvation to him, she was the daughter of Rom, the Lord he had served all his life.
‘Really… if I could truly go back…’
Wouldn’t it be right to take her hand?
No one answered his unspoken question.
In the middle of Aran, where the rain had stopped and the fresh scent of grass lingered in the air—
The rope of salvation gently descended before the devoted priest.
No.
It only appeared that way.
‘—Hehehehe.’
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