Volume 3 Chapter 216 Unchangeable Essence ②
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Like you said, revenge is at the core of who I am,” Kian said quietly. “Since that day, fifteen years ago, all I’ve lived for is getting back at the people who abandoned me.”
With the joints of four fingers—excluding his thumb—he pressed and twisted around the ball of Linca’s foot.
The pressure felt just right to her.
Maybe because it felt good, Linca shifted slightly, her back lifting from the stair as if tempted to hear more.
Kian continued staring into the campfire, its flames flickering in his eyes.
”Umar persecuted me,” he said. “The other retainers of Vahid did too. Even those who didn’t raise a hand—the ones who just stood by—are just as guilty.”
”Are you saying that I, and Sir Jibril, are equally guilty?” Linca asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
”As for Jibril,” Kian said, his tone darkening, “he’s at the top of my list.”
”Why?” she asked. “As far as I remember, he never insulted you. He never tortured you like Umar’s twisted men. He just… observed. You were political enemies. It was clear he stayed back to save himself—unlike me, who did nothing for my own survival.”
”I lost my place because of him,” Kian muttered, the words pulled from a wound that hadn’t healed.
The anger he’d once felt toward Jibril had dulled with time. Fifteen years had worn it down.
But a foolish, stubborn thought still haunted him—
If not for Jibril, he might have inherited everything. He might have become Umar’s successor.
It was because of him.
Because of Jibril, the succession had gone to someone else. Linca, along with the other loyal retainers, had followed Jibril instead.
The brilliant future meant for Kian as Vahid’s heir had been stolen.
Sarah might’ve ended up with him too.
It was all his fault.
Jibril took Kian’s place.
That seat should’ve been his.
”So I’ll kill him,” Kian said. “After I kill Umar, I’ll take my revenge on him.”
”Sounds like a miserable life you’re planning,” Linca said, her gaze fixed on the flames.
”Is it bad?” Kian asked lightly, as if careful not to let the bitterness slip too far. “You’ll never understand how I feel.”
Linca nodded, somber. “I can’t understand. Our starting points were different. We’ve lived different lives.”
”You’re thinking I’m childish, aren’t you?” Kian asked with a lopsided smile. “And you’d be right. What drives me is childish, foolish jealousy. I want to drag the successful ones who cast me aside down to my level. That’s why I’ve fought with this sword all these years.”
”And yet,” Linca said, tilting her head, “you’re leaving Umar’s fate to Sarah?”
”Yeah. …Because I know someone like me can’t make the right choice. I want to leave the judgment to Sarah. She has the right heart.”
Kian pinched Linca’s beautiful calf between his thumb and fingers, pushing the blood upward in slow, practiced strokes. He repeated the motion a few times, finishing the foot massage.
Linca slid her boots back on, then leaned toward him with subtle warmth. She took his palm and began to massage it gently, as if returning the favor.
”I might not have the right to say this,” she murmured, “but I want you, Sir Kian, to be happy. Forget revenge, jealousy, justice… all that burdensome stuff. Just live peacefully. Because even if you do take revenge on Jibril-san—what would be left afterward?”
”Emptiness,” Kian said. “The guilt over the officers I’d kill to get to him… the regret of burying a once-in-a-generation genius who could’ve reformed Azrael.”
”See?” Linca said. “Nothing good comes of it.”
”At least I’d be getting rid of the weirdo trying to turn me into a lab rat,” Kian muttered.
Her fingers pressed the ball of his thumb, hitting a pressure point.
It was probably Hegu, the pain-pleasure spot between thumb and forefinger. A pleasant ache pulsed through his hand.
”Yes. So if you stay holed up here,” Kian said, “Sir Jibril can’t reach you, and everything’s solved, right?”
”Linca,” he added, voice low. “Unfortunately, this is who I am. Without revenge, there’s nothing left of me. Not just Jibril. Until I kill everyone who exiled me—from both East and West—I can’t quiet this destructive urge.”
”Don’t talk like a teenage boy,” Linca said, frowning. “You’re thirty. It’s embarrassing to hear.”
”I’m sorry,” Kian replied with a sheepish grin.
”It’s fine,” she sighed. “But from what I’ve heard, it seems like you, Sir Kian, would be the one more suited to living peacefully in this world. Not me. What do you think?”
”You’re right,” he said. “I should be sealed away in this world like that cursed relic the dark spirit sent to Talia—wait, hold on. I just realized you’re leading me into a slow life fantasy arc. Am I seriously heading toward farming instead of divine battle?”
”First, we find the divine core,” Linca said matter-of-factly. “Then we build defensive golems, start farming, and secure food. Can we eat this fish? Remi Cain looks gross. If we’re eating one, it should be Shield Cain. They say the harder the shell, the sweeter the meat.”
”You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Kian groaned. “Why are you already adjusting to this world? I can’t follow your logic.”
”I’ve been dispatched to all kinds of places in Azrael. I excel at adapting,” Linca said with a smirk. “──Anyway, I think we’ve wrapped up the conversation. Let’s find the phoenix’s divine core today.”
”Stop that. Don’t force a clean wrap-up! Damn it, this is exactly why you’re so hard to deal with.”
”Ah! You just said I’m hard to deal with, didn’t you!?” Linca cried, mock-hurt. “That’s so mean! Good women like me are rare, you know? I’m honest and obedient—a loyal slave to Sir Kian’s… you know.”
”────”
Kian had no words.
(If things like food and logistics are this easy to sort out, maybe I should’ve brought Natra instead…) he thought dryly.
Just then, footsteps echoed from beyond the mist.
At the same time, a powerful surge of magic came barreling toward them.
Kian and Linca shot to their feet, blades drawn in a heartbeat.
”Who goes there?” Kian called out.
”Sir Kian, we should run,” Linca said sharply, her mist-forged sword pulsing beside her.
”Such overwhelming magic power… and we didn’t notice until now?” she whispered.
”Wait,” Kian said, lowering his blade slightly.
”There’s no need to be afraid.”
”────! This person just spoke!? And in the West’s common tongue!” Linca gasped, eyes wide.
Kian relaxed further, something familiar in the voice disarming him.
”Glasses? Is that you, Talia?” he asked.
”Huh? Ms. Talia! Now that I think about it, your voice does sound like Ms. Rose Garden Keeper’s,” Linca said, her eyes darting into the mist.
”That’s right, it’s me, Kian,” said the voice.
From the mist, a girl with golden hair and crimson eyes emerged—like she had stepped from a dream.
She wore a white lace dress, far more refined than the simple robe she once had. A delicate white hood rested atop her head.
Kian heard the distinct clack of her sandals on the cobblestones as she approached.
”Talia,” he said slowly, “have you gained a physical form?”
”────”
The blonde girl approached in silence. Then, stopping just before them, she turned to a blue butterfly fluttering nearby.
”That’s enough. Your role is over. Disappear,” she said gently.
”…………”
”…Please. I beg you. Vanish.”
”────”
The blue butterfly shimmered, leaving a trail of light as it dissolved into the dark.
Talia watched it fade with a touch of sorrow in her eyes—then turned back to Kian and Linca and offered a graceful bow.
”Good day, Kian. Linca. I’m so happy to see you again. Though, this is the first time we’ve spoken face to face, Linca, isn’t it?”
”Y-yeah…” Linca replied, still trying to process what she was seeing.
And perhaps because she sensed no hostility from Talia, she hesitated, then slid her magic sword back into its sheath.
”Glasses, what are you doing here?” Kian demanded. “No—more importantly, you’re the one who made me teleport to this world, aren’t you? Why go through such roundabout means?”
”Well, I don’t know,” the girl replied with a shrug. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. I just woke up here too. Maybe I got pulled in because you came here.”
”Cut the lame lies,” Kian snapped. “If you’re claiming you’re from the real world like us, then why did you act like you already knew about Ms. Rose Garden Keeper earlier?”
Even as Kian pressed her, Talia’s expression remained impassive.
”I hail from this world,” she said evenly. “I know that blue butterfly can talk.”
”Um, Ms. Talia?” Linca asked hesitantly.
”According to Ms. Rose Garden Keeper, your soul was devoured by the Black Onyx spirit when Count Cain’s territory fell, hundreds of years ago. But now you seem to have both a body and a soul. What on earth does that mean?”
”There are several theories,” Talia replied. “But I can’t say for certain. Even I don’t fully understand what I am.”
”Then just tell us what you do know,” Kian said, voice sharp. “You were supposed to be cursed into sleep by the Thorn Spirit, right? But your eyes are wide open—and we aren’t getting sleepy. Why not?”
”It’s probably because this body is different from the one the spirit cursed,” Talia answered flatly.
”What? Hm…” Kian muttered.
A strange scent pricked at his memory—blood. He studied the girl in front of him more closely.
Carefully, he listened for her heartbeat—and noticed two hearts barely functioning and one beating strong and steady.
”Is that body one of the ones stored in the ancient vampire’s hidden fortress?” he asked slowly. “When Arminus attacked, did you extract two hearts to restore Linca and Sarah using the Restoration Curse?”
”Yes, that’s right,” Talia said.
”Glasses, didn’t you once fail to enter that body?” Kian asked.
”That was back when I was communicating with you through the glasses, right?” she said. “The glasses were just a tool to receive my thoughts. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t possess the meat puppet through them.”
”So you touched the meat puppet with your ‘true self’—something other than the glasses?”
”That’s right,” she said. “I woke up in this world, and hazy memories of the past Talia started returning… I thought, perhaps… and had the Thorn monster carry the meat puppet.”
Her words were vague—uncharacteristically so. The glasses had always been precise and logical, but now, they seemed to be deliberately muddying the truth.
Kian and Linca exchanged a look.
”By the way,” Talia said, “I’m heading for the Sanctuary—to find out who I really am.”
”You too, huh?” Kian muttered.
”If you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you. I have seven powerful magic swords.”
A vast surge of magic flared from the girl’s body. Beside Kian, Linca glanced down and raised an eyebrow at Talia’s feet.
A second later, seven familiar magic swords appeared, hovering in a slow orbit around her.
”You both know how strong these seven magic swords are,” Talia said.
Then she handed the Third Magic Sword, Heavenbreaker [T/N: Haten], to Kian, and the Seventh Magic Sword, Water Moon [T/N: Suigetsu], to Linca.
Heavenbreaker looked like a dagger—but its true ability was terrifying: the power to summon and control over a thousand white blades in midair.
Water Moon, meanwhile, was the ultimate long-range countermeasure. It could not only deflect meteor magic but also repel Juji’s magic spear and even Oswald’s sun magic sword.
In truth, if someone with high close-combat ability wielded it, Water Moon alone would make them the strongest in the world.
And if they had Heavenbreaker and the Second Magic Sword, Shadowrend [T/N: Batsuei], which surpassed even the secret technique Shadow Chase, then any halfway-decent swordsman would be almost unbeatable—so long as they didn’t make any catastrophic mistakes.
Such was the overwhelming power of Talia’s swords.
”This is a true spirit weapon,” Linca breathed. “Up close, the pressure it gives off is intense.”
”Don’t make the Mist Magic Sword sound like a knockoff…” Kian grumbled. “Even if Ms. Priscilla’s covering the rental fee, it’s so expensive it makes your eyes pop.”
”Do you really think Ms. Priscilla will pay that rental fee?” Linca asked, voice edged with doubt.
”Don’t say scary things like that,” Kian muttered.
”The Mist Magic Sword is impressive,” Linca admitted. “But when you compare it to this, it just doesn’t stand a chance.”
She spoke dreamily, eyes fixed on Water Moon‘s elegant blade. After a moment, she snapped out of it and slid the sword into its luxurious black-and-gold scabbard.
”I won’t slow you down,” Talia said quietly. “Please—let me join your party.”
”I don’t mind that,” Kian replied. “But first, tell us everything you’re hiding. Why did you bring us to this world?”
”To make my wish come true,” Talia said simply.
”Your wish? What, a trip around the world?” Kian scoffed.
”That was back when I was just the glasses,” she said. “Now that I’ve awakened as Talia, it’s different. —The Sanctuary lies this way. Two keys remain. Once we’re inside, it’ll be safe. There’s also a large fragment of the divine core. You can live however you want—quiet and peaceful, or… indulgent and depraved. Your choice.”
Talia spoke calmly, then turned her back on them and strode off.
The Heavenbreaker in her hand unraveled into a swirl of blood-colored mist and vanished into the void.
”…What do we do?” Kian asked. “She’s definitely hiding something.”
”Even so,” Linca said, taking his arm, “we’ve got no choice but to follow.”
Back to this routine again, huh? Kian thought with a sigh. But with Linca tugging him forward, he started down the misty road.
Following close behind Talia, they advanced through the mist-drenched streets of Moonshore.
Linca clung tightly to Kian’s left arm, limiting his movement. Her breasts pressing against him and the sweet, distracting scent she gave off made him wish, from the bottom of his heart, that she’d stop.
”Hyah!? What!? What is it!? People!?” Linca shrieked, clutching Kian’s arm even tighter.
Children’s laughter echoed through the fog, and several silhouettes flitted past them.
While Talia remained unfazed and Kian kept his composure, Linca yelped and jumped theatrically every time a figure darted by.
”This is another illusion,” Kian muttered, glancing at the shadowy children loitering along the roadside.
The illusions were detailed, each one vividly colored.
Three of the children were plump, and six had average builds. They stood in a loose semicircle, and at the center, a stunning blonde girl—Talia—struck a theatrical pose, her mouth moving as if mid-aria.
”It’s the thorns creating these visions,” Kian said, pointing. “See? That thick one’s wrapped around the building, like a vine.”
”I can’t go out alone anymore,” Linca said under her breath.
”You only see illusions within Moonshore,” Talia replied. “The ‘sanctuary’ is clear—untouched by this.”
”…You were as beloved here as Erynys,” Kian said, gazing at the spectral Talia smiling radiantly, surrounded by both human and vampire townsfolk.
”Not just spirits—men and women, young and old, people of every kind adored you,” he added.
”Not like you,” Talia said quietly.
”Hey,” Kian said, glancing over.
”Your looks, your voice, even your scent—everything about you captivated people. No one in this town didn’t love Talia. And she… she gave that same love back. Like a butterfly drawn to a blossom,” he said, his voice low.
”…At this point, it feels more like enchantment. Or maybe even a curse,” Linca murmured, waving her hand through the illusion of Talia, who stood smiling at the crowd.
They skirted around the gathered illusion—’Talia’s Imperial Guard’—and kept walking.
”Anyone who didn’t love me—or rather, anyone from the anti-Cain faction—was cast out of this town,” Talia said. “There weren’t many of them, but they were persistent in their hatred.”
”Considering they treated us like livestock, feeding off our blood, it’s a miracle the resistance wasn’t bigger,” Linca muttered bitterly.
”Talia could speak with spirits. She was like a shrine maiden,” Kian said. “When we needed something from them—especially Erynys—it was always through her. If she asked, they’d rarely refuse.”
”Was it you who requested treatment for Count Cain’s impotence?” Linca asked with a blunt edge.
”Albert Cain wasn’t impotent,” Talia replied, her tone sharp. “His semen was thin. He couldn’t get a woman pregnant. Say what you will about him, but he had enough dignity to keep that secret—even from his beloved daughter—until the very end.”
”So Talia was loved because she made ‘requests’ to the spirits on everyone’s behalf?” Linca asked.
The bespectacled woman paused, as though dredging up a memory. Then, after a breath, she nodded. “That’s right.”
”The Cain domain thrived for centuries thanks to spirit power,” she continued. “Even when we shattered the Phoenix’s core to forge a false sun, we used the power of dark spirits. It wasn’t Talia who made that request—but the priestess before her.”
”Ah. So the immortal bird really was the Phoenix,” Kian said, eyes narrowing.
”Then the Holy Sword of the Sun that Oswald carries…” Linca began.
”Technically, it’s the scabbard—or more precisely, a magic sword infused with the Sun’s power,” Talia explained. “Just as you suspected, it was forged in the ‘Empire of Night.’ To stop the disaster threatening the Empire back then, a divine core fragment was used. A master vampire forged it in one month. That’s what the legends say, anyway.”
”So the method Umar mentioned—to strengthen the Holy Sword of the Sun—means feeding it Phoenix fragments to reinforce its divine core?”
”Only your father knows what your father is thinking,” she said. “But yes—if you feed Phoenix pieces to the sword, Oswald could grow even stronger. If he’s compatible with the Phoenix, he might turn into something immortal—something monstrous.”
”I see…” Linca murmured, her voice soft.
”As Tobalcain said,” Talia added grimly, “we should have killed Oswald back then. It’s too late now—but that was the wrong choice.”
Still, Oswald had been an able ruler. He developed Ramsey. Whether Kian’s decision was a mistake—that would be for the future, and for historians, to decide.
Standing just behind Kian, Linca spoke up, her expression hard to read.
”The demon shattered to cultivate sugarcane… then forged into a sword and sealed away forever. The Phoenix must’ve been filled with regret. If it still had a will, that would’ve been utter humiliation.”
”Maybe that’s why it resonates with Oswald—he’s been humiliated too,” she continued. “Sticking with Oswald might be easier than dealing with someone like Eleonora—so noble, so naive. But who knows.”
”You two,” Talia said, her voice steady. “We’re almost at the third guardian’s domain. Focus up—we need to be ready.”
The fog began to thin. Several towering spires rose into view, silhouetted against the night sky.
It had to be the Cain family stronghold—rulers of Moonshore.
Talia, leading them, suddenly turned her eyes toward the ghostly children running against the flow of the street.
As usual, Linca screamed like a rabbit caught in a snare.
Kian, meanwhile, stared at Talia’s profile—quiet sorrow mingling with fierce resolve.
”Lady Talia!” one illusion called out.
”Our Lady Talia!” cried another.
”The beautiful and brilliant princess! The symbol of Count Cain’s glory!”
Praises rained down from the illusions as they passed.
Each one made the glasses-wearer’s face contort—like she was being pierced by thorns.
It wasn’t the face of someone cherished.
It was the face of someone staring into the heart of their sin.
At the northern edge of town, more childlike shadows appeared, running through the parting mist.
”Lady Talia!”
At the innocent call, the woman in glasses froze.
Kian and Linca stopped, falling into battle stance.
Four child-sized illusions emerged—plump figures, clearly vampire boys and girls.
They stopped before the real Talia and the woman beside her—both cloaked in white lace hoods and robes.
The real Talia stood before Kian and the others.
Surrounded by illusions of children, she faced them in silence.
The person behind the glasses who had been guiding Kian all along wore an air of quiet maturity—but the illusion of Talia carried a different weight, something otherworldly and serene.
With Talia, Kian, and Linca watching, the four children—manifestations of someone’s memory—along with Princess Talia, began acting out their bittersweet charade, just as they had before.
* * *
”Lady Talia, are you leaving?” one of the children asked, voice trembling.
”Papa said Lady Talia will go into Lady Erynys’s temple and won’t be able to come out,” another murmured.
”No way,” a third cried. “Lady Talia, don’t go…”
”I’m sorry, everyone,” Princess Talia said softly.
Dressed in a gown reminiscent of an Eastern bride, she knelt to meet their eyes, her smile warm but tinged with sorrow.
”But I have to go. I must serve the guardian spirit for the rest of my life.”
”────”
”…………”
”It’s not like we’ll never see each other again,” she said, brushing a child’s cheek. “If you visit the temple during the festival, you can meet everyone. Then, tell me about Moonshore and the world outside.”
”Why does Lady Talia have to be trapped in the temple?” the oldest boy asked.
Princess Talia held his gaze, still smiling. Silence lingered before she replied.
”……For everyone’s sake. To soothe Lady Erynys and keep this country safe, always. Have you heard of the prophecy of destruction?”
”Yeah,” he whispered.
”Destruction won’t come,” she said with quiet conviction. “I’ll protect you all. The guardian spirit and I—the priestess—will endure together, forever.”
”To protect us…” the boy echoed.
”That’s right,” she whispered.
Princess Talia gathered the children into her arms and held them close.
”I’ll protect you. I’ll never let any of you die.”
”Liar!” a child’s voice shrieked.
The illusion fractured with a violent twist. The serene vision of Princess Talia vanished, replaced by a chilling image of the town under siege—massive, thorn-covered vines crashing through streets, devouring everything. In the foreground, thick thorns surged like waves, wrapping around the boys and pulling them under. Their screams echoed as the vines absorbed them.
”Liar! You said you’d protect us!”
”Nooooo! Lady Talia, Lady Talia, help!”
”Kian, Linca, get ready,” the person behind the glasses said, drawing the magic sword, Water Moon.
”Be careful,” she warned. “If you touch it, it’ll drain your magic power.”
”Got it,” Kian said.
”────!” Linca grunted, bracing herself.
”Kian, I’ll go first. In three seconds, slash the thorn that’ll rise diagonally to the right. Linca, in five seconds, launch a fire technique at the front sky. Use the Crimson Pact’s Misericorde. The key phrase is ‘The Crimson Pact.’”
Kian and Linca nodded sharply at her orders.
Before the trio, a jet-black vine—its surface twisted with the screaming faces of children—plunged toward them, ready to engulf them whole.
Notes:
• Linca – Jibril’s favorite girl. High-ranking warrior monk woman from Shin, with strong abilities like ignoring attacks and poisons.
• Count Cain – Talia’s father.
• Arminus – Male. Leader of the Black Panther Tribe. Possesses extraordinary physical abilities, enhanced by the tribe’s unique technique that repels energy and magic attacks. His speed and strength surpass those of High Warlord Isthbaran. Wields the magic sword Balmung, capable of cleaving through an ice dragon with a single strike. His black fur provides camouflage in low visibility, making him nearly undetectable. Relationship: Leader of the Beastmen Alliance’s delegation.
• Mag – The wolfwoman under Yelmar—the one who was caught by Kian’s group earlier.
• Juji – Male. Leader of the Wolfmen’s ‘Jinsou’. A skilled warrior with sharp senses and combat abilities. Relationship: Part of the Beastmen Alliance’s delegation.
Please bookmark this series and rate ☆☆☆☆☆ on here!
Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
Leave a Reply