She imagined Shiayar in his youth: the black-haired, black-eyed boy at the table, under dim candlelight, holding a feather pen worn to a nub, sketching fantastical mechanical creations, as splendid as a starry galaxy. Through spring warmth, summer days, autumn sun, and winter nights, for a year, then two, he slowly grew up in this simple hunter's cabin before appearing before her.
Isadella extended her pale fingers and lit the candle, the flickering flame reflected in her crimson eyes.
"How fortunate," she murmured.
Luckily, I extended an invitation to him that day to become a Swordbearer. Luckily, on the day I drew the Sword in the Stone, I was able to meet him again in another identity. Luckily, the endless wait of a thousand years in the Imaginary Zone hadn't turned into an illusory bubble but had welcomed a true miracle.
「...」
Isadella stayed in the simple hunter's cabin for a long time, until the sun had set and cool moonlight once again spilled over the snowy plain. Despite the Empire Capital's opulence, filled with buildings hundreds, even thousands of times more luxurious than this small cabin, none had ever made her linger so fondly.
BUZZ—
The hum of a magictech communication terminal came from outside the cabin. Isadella extinguished the candle on the wooden table, her spiritual power gently sweeping away all the dust in the room. After doing all this, the silver-haired Princess finally shut the wooden door and stepped out of the hunter's cabin.
She lifted her gaze slightly toward Fioran, who had just finished using the magictech communication device outside. The warmth Isadella had displayed earlier in the cabin dissipated, replaced by a chilling seriousness.
"What happened?"
"Secret news has come from the southern border adjoining the Lost Realm," Fioran said respectfully. "There's been a significant increase in the frequency of beast tide movements from the Lost Realm, and it seems those large-scale evil cults are also mobilizing their followers. Additionally, according to secret reports from the newly reestablished Swordbearer Organization in the Empire Capital, it seems the other oath-sworn families and great nobles—who had quieted down after the Borgia family's defeat and Guderian's death, obediently relinquishing resistance and allowing us to reclaim power—have recently strengthened their connections with the Lost Realm, especially the evil cults. They are likely plotting something in secret."
A hint of hesitation flickered in Fioran's eyes. After a pause, he continued, "It may seem presumptuous of me, given my status, to speak against the current Emperor of the Empire. But all concerned within the Empire know that Your Highness's father, His Majesty the current Emperor, is in increasingly poor health, and the succession ceremony is imminent. I believe their unrest likely stems from their desire to make a move during the Imperial power transition ceremony."
Fioran looked toward Isadella. "Your Highness, with the White Tower and the Empire now allied, those oath-sworn families and great nobles are no fools. They dare to harbor dissent, even after the Borgia family was made an example of, because they must have gained new confidence. Such confidence couldn't have come from any single evil cult or Lost Kingdom, especially since Tower Master Silvia personally demonstrated the power of the Throne at the banquet a few months ago. The only thing that could drive them to such urgency, to the point of no longer fearing the Throne... I believe there is only one source."
"It's the Abyss itself, right?" Isadella's stern voice rang out in the desolate cedar forest.
Fioran, who had not reached the Legendary rank, was naturally unaware of all that had transpired in the long river of history. But Isadella knew very well: those True Gods from the Abyss could not possibly be ignorant of that altered history. A King of the Imaginary Zone returning unharmed... this was an event that, even in the eyes of True Gods, was quite inconceivable. Especially since she still possessed the Sacred Sword and had been part of the Alliance Forces that slew a host of Abyss Demons a millennium ago. Even the ancient god of the Abyss, the Crimson Red Moon, had also fallen within that Imaginary Zone.
So, at this moment, both she and Shiayar were inevitably in the Abyss's sights. Particularly Shiayar; he had not only achieved the feat of killing the Crimson Moon but had also obliterated it—concept, Stars Chalice, and all—making resurrection in the Astral Realm impossible.
For the Abyss, this was an unforgettable hatred. All True Gods born of the Abyss would undoubtedly want to quickly eliminate this anomaly capable of utterly slaying deities. This undying hatred would not fade with the passage of a millennium, for no True God of the Abyss would wish to see the day Shiayar grew stronger still, then came for them to inflict a 'complete kill.'
So, because they can't find his trail, they want to strike at me first, the one still in plain sight? Do they think that as a King of the Imaginary Zone burdened with sins, even upon my return, I must have suffered a great loss of power due to the Corrective Force? That though I may seem to retain the rank of the Throne, I'm merely an empty shell, strong on the outside but hollow within? And that the Sacred Sword, because it underpins the Imaginary Zone's foundation and endured the Corrective Force's crushing pressure, cannot manifest the power it had at its peak?
A cold glint flashed in Isadella's crimson eyes.