Chapter 54: The Pinnacle of the Battle of Wits

Three days later, at the hero’s funeral.

The entire royal capital was shrouded in solemn mourning.

Crowds of citizens lined both sides of the streets, heads bowed as they silently bid farewell to the hero who had saved the world.

The coffin, pulled by eight white horses, moved slowly down the street. 

It was made of transparent crystal, and inside lay a person with a pale face and closed eyes, as if he were merely sleeping.

Aiko followed behind the coffin, dressed in black mourning clothes, tears streaming endlessly down her face.

Prim walked on the other side, also wearing a long black dress, her face expressionless.

She didn’t even know what she was feeling anymore.

At first, she had only wanted to use him, to make him her dog. 

Later, it turned into unwillingness, a desire to conquer him. And then…

When exactly had that unwillingness turned into something else?

She didn’t know.

She only knew that the moment she saw him collapse, it felt as if her heart had been violently squeezed.

And now, looking at that crystal coffin, she suddenly realized—

She would never have another chance.

No more chance to tell him that she no longer hated him. 

That she actually… that she actually…

Prim covered her mouth as tears finally spilled over.

Ingrid walked at the very back of the procession. She wasn’t wearing mourning clothes but her usual silver armor.

Her eyes were vacant, her face devoid of any expression.

Dead?

He was just… dead like that?

She suddenly quickened her steps, pushing her way to the side of the coffin and staring fixedly at the pale face inside.

“Get up.” Her voice was hoarse. “Get up! What kind of hero just lies there sleeping like this?!”

The people around her looked at her in shock.

“You took everything from me!” Her voice grew louder. “My parents, my glory, my friends—you took everything from me, and now you just die like this?!”

She lunged forward, trying to lift the crystal coffin lid.

“Get up! Get up right now! Say something! How can you save the world, claim all the glory, and then leave me like this… leave me…”

How am I supposed to get my revenge now?

Or had she been wrong all along? Did this man truly have no selfish motives?

Was his heart truly so broad that it could hold the entire world and all its people?

Had he never once thought about himself?!

“Ingrid!”

Aiko rushed over and slapped her across the face.

A crisp slap rang out. Ingrid froze.

“Enough!” Tears flowed down Aiko’s face. “The Knight Commander is dead! What more do you want?!”

Ingrid held her cheek, staring blankly at her.

Aiko’s tears kept falling, but her gaze was unusually resolute.

“You hate him? Do you think he wanted to see those tragedies? Do you think he arrived late on purpose? He’s human, not a god! He did everything he could! What right do you have to hate him?!”

“I knew it. Deep down, you’ve always resented him for not arriving sooner!”

“Otherwise, after losing everything, you’d have nowhere to direct that emptiness and loneliness in your heart, right?”

Ingrid opened her mouth but no sound came out.

She suddenly realized Aiko was right. 

She wasn’t truly hating Abel—she was hating her own powerlessness and weakness, hating that she couldn’t save her “parents,” hating the version of herself trapped under the rubble, hating how useless she had been!

That was why she had displaced all that anger onto Abel, even though deep down she had always known none of it was his fault!

If she didn’t do that, she felt she wouldn’t have the courage or purpose to keep living.

Unknowingly, she had hurt him and even planned to take revenge on him. How ridiculous.

But now, it was too late for any of that.

Whether resentment or regret, none of it mattered anymore. This person was dead—gone as a hero.

Was she satisfied?

No. All she felt was emptiness, and even deeper regret.

“…What have I done…”

Ingrid stood there in a daze.

Aiko turned back to the coffin, gently stroking the transparent lid.

“He saved so many people… so many… Why… why did it have to be him…”

Her voice gradually faded into silent sobs.

Ingrid stood motionless, watching the crystal coffin and Aiko’s crying back. Something that had been tightly wound inside her heart suddenly snapped.

Her heart felt empty. Completely empty.

She turned and walked away from the crowd, step by step.

No one stopped her.

The church bells began to toll.

The coffin was carried to the cemetery and lowered into the freshly dug grave.

The king delivered a speech in person, and the pope offered prayers.

Countless nobles and citizens stood around, silently bidding farewell to the hero.

Shovelfuls of soil fell one after another, covering the crystal coffin.

Prim stood at the very front, watching the dirt fall as tears flowed uncontrollably.

Why… why had she been so willful back then?

Why hadn’t she tried to understand him?

If she could do it all over again, if only…

She covered her face, her shoulders shaking violently.

Elfi stood a little further away, dressed in a black maid uniform, her face expressionless.

She didn’t cry.

From beginning to end, she never cried.

But her crimson eyes remained fixed on the grave, watching the soil fall.

Young Master…

She said in her heart:

Rest well.

I will love you forever.

Aruma stood beside her, unusually quiet.

She looked at the grave and suddenly recalled the first time she met Abel—he had shattered that silver giant with one punch. So powerful. So cool.

She had wanted to have a child with him.

She had thought someone that strong would live for a very, very long time.

A true warrior.

She said in her heart.

You were the greatest warrior I’ve ever seen.

The bells tolled one final time.

The funeral was over.

The crowd gradually dispersed.

In the end, only those women remained in the cemetery, each standing in their own spot, unwilling to leave for a long time.

Only when the sun had set in the west did they finally turn around, one by one, and disappear into the twilight.

Late at night.

The moon was dark and the wind was strong.

The cemetery was deathly silent, broken only by the occasional chirping of insects.

Several shadowy figures quietly approached the new grave.

Leading them was Julius, wearing a black cloak and holding a shovel.

Following behind him were Bishop Sephilia and… Aiko.

Aiko’s hands were trembling.

She knew the truth, but standing in front of the grave still filled her with fear.

What if the medicine didn’t work?

What if… what if he really was…

“Don’t be afraid.” Sephilia gently held her hand. “Trust me.”

Aiko took a deep breath and nodded.

Julius began digging. His movements were swift, and it wasn’t long before he reached the crystal coffin.

He jumped into the grave, opened the lid, and lifted the “corpse” out.

Sephilia took out a small bottle and poured the liquid into Abel’s mouth.

Moments later, Abel’s eyelids twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes.

What greeted him was the pitch-black night sky and three anxious faces.

“I…” His voice was hoarse. “Did it work?”

“It worked.” Julius smiled. “From now on, Abel Noct is dead.”

Abel looked at him, then at Aiko and Sephilia, and let out a soft breath.

“Thank you, all of you.”

Aiko could no longer hold back. She threw herself into his arms and burst into loud sobs.

“You bastard… you big bastard… You scared me to death…”

Abel gently patted her back without saying anything.

“Do you really have to leave? Can’t you stay with me a few more days?” She looked up at him with teary eyes, acting spoiled.

“No can do. It would be bad if the others found out I’m still alive.” Perhaps because he had been intimate with Aiko before, Abel didn’t mind her closeness. He also wasn’t surprised that Sephilia hadn’t kept the secret from her.

Sephilia tucked a strand of hair blown loose by the wind behind her ear and looked at the two of them. “Alright, enough with the lovey-dovey stuff. Hurry up and refill the grave. If anyone sees this, our whole performance will have been for nothing!”

Abel nodded.

“Still, Aiko, I promise you—I’ll come visit you at the church from time to time!”

Only then did the saintess’s face break into a bright, radiant smile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

***

In the darkness, a round table sat surrounded by shadowy figures.

“Never expected that wandering knight to know the route to Sky City. It completely caught us off guard…”

At the head of the table, a figure wearing a silver mask spoke. 

“If I had known, I would have followed him more closely!”

“…But he’s dead now. He won’t interfere with our plans anymore,” said the figure to his right. 

“Though our plans will be delayed quite a bit. I’ve already collected fragments from the Goddess of Vengeance’s body. It won’t be long before we can recreate the ‘god’!”

The moment his words fell, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky, briefly illuminating the room. 

Behind him were countless bubbling cultivation tanks containing rows of twisted corpses that were still faintly twitching.

Someone else spoke up. “Is he really dead?”

“…I’m very certain. If it was a fake death, he would have told me. He even shared the route to Sky City with me…”

At the end of the table, a person whispered softly, “It’s just that I couldn’t find out the exact route, so please forgive me, Cult Leader.”

As she spoke, her red eyes reflected the candlelight, and a lock of black hair slipped out from under the edge of her hood.

“No matter. Since the obstacle has been removed, ultimate victory will still belong to us!”

“The Cult Leader is wise!”

“We shall grant humanity and this world… a new life!”

Only after everyone else had left did the shadowy figure at the head of the table slowly remove his mask.

“…Has history been changed?”