* * *

Noon the next day, in the small rear garden near Aietar’s quarters.

Priests and Holy Knights surrounded the area in tight formation.

Yuta stood at the very front of the priests, hands politely folded.

“Well then...”

Aietar, dressed in priest’s robes, stepped to the center of the garden with a slightly tense expression.

A shallow pit had already been dug in the middle of the garden.

“After all, the transmission of divine power must happen through contact.”

To fully absorb the divine power of the Holy Land Arhad, Aietar was planning to bury himself in the earth with only his face exposed while clutching the Sacred Relic of Power.

The principle was that, once Aietar injected divine power into the Sacred Relic, the relic would transfer Arhad’s divine power into him.

Last time, when he absorbed the power of the Divine Beast, it had taken a month. He said he didn’t know how long it would take this time.

And once the ritual began, there would be no way to stop it.

“Let us all wait reverently for the new era of the Temple.”

Aietar set the Sacred Relic of Power down on the altar for a moment. It was to take off his priest’s robe.

He slowly began to unbutton it himself.

“Everyone, close your eyes and pray with your whole heart.”

Yuta spoke with a serene expression.

“For the new era of the Temple.”

At that, all the priests behind Yuta adopted prayer postures and closed their eyes.

At the same time, behind Aietar’s line of sight, a small vine slithered silently from the forest toward the altar.

“And also, for our father’s holy sacrifice.”

Yuta prayed in a resonant voice, and the vine climbed the altar without a sound.

Just as the vine reached out and gently grasped the Sacred Relic placed on the altar—

“So in the end, you betray me like this, Yuta.”

A cold voice rang through the garden.

“Seize him, Payton.”

Aietar drew the dagger hidden in his robes and slashed down, severing the vine that had been holding the Sacred Relic.

At the same time, Payton grabbed hold of Yuta on the spot.

“Sir Yuta...”

Payton’s eyes trembled with shock.

“I... I trusted you until the end...”

The severed vine drooped powerlessly across the garden.

Meanwhile, another vine hastily retreated.

At Aietar’s signal, several Holy Knights rushed into the forest in pursuit of it—to catch the Divine Beast of Grass from which the vine originated.

That fleeing vine was clutching the Sacred Relic of Time.

Aietar smirked as he saw it.

“A switch... huh.”

Half-dressed in his priest’s robe, he stepped toward Yuta.

“Was that why you stopped by the High Temple site before coming to me?”

“...”

“To switch out the Sacred Relic of Power?”

The Sacred Relic of Time required far more divine power than the Relic of Power. Far more than Aietar currently possessed.

“If one tries to use the Sacred Relic of Time without enough divine power, the caster dies...”

Aietar smiled brightly as he gripped Yuta’s jaw, now restrained by Payton.

The priests in the garden trembled and involuntarily dropped to their knees. That was how overwhelming Aietar’s fury felt.

“The Sacred Relic of Time and the Sacred Relic of Power are identical in shape and size.”

“...”

“So the switch was a pretty good plan. Better than any of the idiotic things you’ve pulled until now.”

“...Guh...”

“It’s unfortunate that the plan was to kill me, Yuta.”

Aietar gripped Yuta’s chin so hard that he gasped in pain.

Even Yuta, suppressed by Aietar’s aura, was trembling in his bound hands.

“I knew everything, yet I gave you a chance to the very end.”

Aietar whispered, his red eyes gleaming.

“Last night, I told you everything as well.”

“Guh, guh...”

“I know who my successor is. And none of you can defeat me.”

“F-Fath—guh...!”

“I kept hoping you’d pretend not to know and return to my side. But in the end, knowing there was no hope, you still chose to stand against me?”

Aietar yanked Yuta’s chin higher.

Yuta, arms bound by Payton, staggered painfully.

Between the muscular Payton and the oppressive presence of Aietar, Yuta’s frail frame looked as if it would break at any moment. Their similar eyes met in a tense gaze.

“Even now, please beg, Sir Yuta.”

Payton whispered regretfully as he restrained Yuta.

“Beg that this will never happen again, however you can. His Excellency is a merciful man.”

That was how much Yuta had been revered in the Temple.

“Ah—gh... Father...”

Not sparing Payton a glance, Yuta forced out words with difficulty.

“You still... guh... don’t really... kuh, know me...”

Even trembling, he gave his best effort to raise a small smile.

“I... guh... know you very well, Father.”

Tears of pain welled in Yuta’s eyes, but his gaze remained confident.

“I know... guh... you suspected me, too...”

He had anticipated all of this from the start.

Aietar had long trusted Yuta, but he was not so blind as to overlook something suspicious.

In truth, Yuta had already guessed that Aietar would begin to doubt him when he released Zahid earlier than scheduled.

“He probably won’t be imprisoned long. He’s the head of the Dyfenril family, which makes him politically burdensome. The Emperor will eventually pull him out no matter what. Until then, stall him as long as you can and try to get information.”

That had been Aietar’s explicit order.

Of course, if you were a priest under the Temple, you were supposed to follow Aietar’s orders to the letter—especially those of high rank.

But Yuta had released Zahid at a single word from the Emperor. Both Aietar and Yuta knew full well that he could have held out longer by making excuses.

It wasn’t as if he felt no fear.

“It’ll be dangerous, Zahid. Maybe even more than during Entoho.”

“I’ve never once been afraid of that.”

“...You’re amazing.”

Zahid’s reply—that he had never once feared danger—had made Yuta feel a little ashamed.

‘I’ve always hesitated at the cost of sacrifice because I’m not as strong as Zahid Dyfenril or Julian Noart.’

Yuta took a deep breath.

‘Honestly, I was afraid even nine years ago...’

He had always thought he could sacrifice himself for Rosie, but in truth, his heart had constantly wavered.

That’s why he wrote in his diary—to steady his trembling heart.

Even this time, he was afraid. But every time, he remembered Zahid’s unwavering eyes.

‘At the very least, I shouldn’t feel ashamed of the demerits I worked so hard to rack up at the Academy.’

He had come to Arhad expecting to die at Aietar’s hands. He just wanted to pass along as much information to Zahid as possible before that happened.

[Just in case, I’m saying this: you don’t have to worry about me.

I know Aietar better than anyone.

I’m moving within the bounds where he would never suspect me, so don’t worry.]

He had said that to reassure Rosie, but in truth, that final letter was nearly a farewell.

[Rosie, just in case you miss me too much, I’m sending an attachment.

It’s from a third-rate magazine and hard to find, but I looked the best in this photo.]

Even though nine years had passed, and they hadn’t even properly seen each other’s faces up close since...

He still hoped Rosie would survive—and remember him looking his best.