Chapter 78
After the Grand Duke left, Yulia was moved to a quiet room in the lowest level of the temple. Mateus erected a barrier of divine energy around her, preventing anyone unauthorized from entering.
“…Yulia.”
Cedric’s shoulders slumped as he looked at Yulia lying neatly on the bed. She looked as if she were merely asleep—yet at the same time, she could have already been a cold corpse.
He had anticipated this outcome someday. But seeing her like this shattered his heart far more than he had expected.
Swallowing a heavy sigh, Cedric slowly reached out and pressed his hand against hers. Her motionless fingers were icy, devoid of any warmth.
“The Grand Duke has left to find a way to save you,” Cedric murmured quietly. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he kept speaking anyway.
“I told him why you ended up like this.”
“…”
“I wanted him to know… that he was undoubtedly at fault for this.”
A conflicted expression crossed Cedric’s face as he recalled the day the Grand Duke departed.
He knew his words had been laced with personal resentment.
And the look on the Grand Duke’s face that day had haunted him for days.
‘At the very least, shouldn’t you know why Yulia ended up like this?’
That day, Cedric had thrown those thorny words at the Grand Duke’s back as he left the temple.
The Grand Duke, who had been walking away in haste, stopped and turned to look at him. His eyes were already broken.
Yet, Cedric drove another blade into him.
‘It all started the day Yulia first ran away from you. If she hadn’t used her divine power after falling off that cliff, she wouldn’t have ended up like this.’
‘…What do you mean?’
Though the Grand Duke had once sought to kill Cedric, he no longer exuded even the faintest hostility. He had no room left for such emotions.
‘It means the more Yulia used her divine power, the more her body deteriorated.’
‘…’
‘If you had just let her go from the beginning, she wouldn’t have needed to use it at all.’
With each word, the Grand Duke’s face twisted with unmistakable despair.
Of course. He likely hadn’t realized that he was the indirect cause of Yulia’s condition.
Cedric didn’t stop, hammering the final nail in.
‘Before that, did you even know why Yulia threw herself off that cliff?’
Even after delivering enough despair, Cedric mercilessly fired another arrow.
‘At the time, Yulia didn’t know how to protect herself with divine power.’
The only techniques she had been taught were masking her presence and short-distance teleportation.
In other words, after falling from the cliff, she hadn’t expected to survive.
‘So, Yulia decided that dying was better than returning to you.’
When Cedric coldly delivered those words and looked up, he clearly witnessed the Grand Duke’s face crumble in an instant.
As a priest who was supposed to embody compassion, this was the first time he had ever cornered someone so ruthlessly.
He hadn’t expected the Grand Duke—a man of such imposing presence—to break so easily.
But in truth, it wasn’t Cedric who had shattered him.
It was Yulia.
Finishing his recollection, Cedric let out a long sigh and looked at Yulia again, his eyes clouded with sorrow.
“At least now… he’s the one you need most. Maybe I said too much.”
Wealth, power, reputation—even the knights who followed him without question. The Grand Duke was using everything at his disposal to find a way to save her.
It was obvious that he could do far more for her than Cedric, who could only stand here helplessly.
With a self-deprecating smile, Cedric continued in a fading voice.
“…And, Yulia.”
“…”
“Truthfully, a while ago, I noticed the complicated feelings you had for him in your expression.”
There was a time when Cedric had arrogantly believed he was the only one who could ever matter to her.
When she was with him, she always seemed at ease, often smiling.
But that illusion shattered the moment they encountered the Grand Duke on the passenger ship.
‘I’m sorry, Cedric. I’ll be fine now, so you don’t have to protect me anymore…’
Back then, after much persuasion, she had finally turned away.
But when Cedric glanced back, he saw an expression on her face he had never seen before.
Her blue eyes, gazing up at the Grand Duke who held her in his arms—filled with hatred, resentment… and somewhere within them, unmistakable affection.
Yulia loved and hated him at the same time.
And only then did Cedric realize that an insurmountable line had been drawn between them.
That the Grand Duke occupied a far larger space in her heart than he had ever imagined.
“If… if he finds a way to save you,” Cedric hesitated, then slowly continued,
“…will you go back to him?”
His hand, resting on hers, tightened slightly.
He had wanted to remain in her life, even if only as a friend.
But now that he had glimpsed her feelings for the Grand Duke, a faint regret stirred in him.
Maybe I should have confessed my feelings at least once. Even if her heart would never turn to me… just once…
Biting his lip lightly, Cedric slowly withdrew his hand from hers.
“…Please wake up safely, Yulia.”
Now wasn’t the time to dwell on his own feelings.
Closing his eyes, Cedric silently prayed that the divine would watch over the Grand Duke on his long journey.
One Month After Leaving the Empire
‘There are four divine proxies in total. Each represents one of the four continents, residing in their respective temples, delivering oracles and protecting their lands.’
As he urged his horse forward, Fernan recalled what Mateus had told him.
‘But that doesn’t mean they stay near the temples. In fact, they’re more likely to hide in places no one would ever expect.’
Somewhere no one would dare imagine a divine proxy would reside.
‘Meaning—somewhere small, impoverished, and inconspicuous.’
Fernan had divided the search into three regions, assigning his knights accordingly.
The clues were still absurdly scarce, but there was no time for despair. Right now, all that mattered was the search.
So he had to suppress the voices rising relentlessly in his mind.
‘The more Yulia used her divine power, the more her body deteriorated.’
Yet the words echoed again, and Fernan gritted his teeth, his lips pale.
‘So, Yulia decided that dying was better than returning to you.’
His grip on the reins tightened.
In the end, it was all… his fault.
If he had just let Yulia go from the start, she wouldn’t have ended up like this.
If he hadn’t driven her to the edge, she would have lived peacefully, without harm.
She wouldn’t have needed to use her divine power, wouldn’t have thrown herself off a cliff, wouldn’t have… been willing to die.
Fernan had confirmed, yet again, that he had been nothing but misery and hell for Yulia.
Until the very end.
“…Hah.”
Ever since leaving the Empire a month ago, Fernan had been gripped by an unrelenting urge to strangle himself.
He wanted to put a blade in Yulia’s hand and let her stab him a thousand times.
“…Damn it.”
His curse was laced with self-loathing.
He knew. Now wasn’t the time to let personal anguish interfere.
Suffering and atonement could wait until after Yulia was saved.
With great effort, Fernan forced all thoughts from his mind.
By then, he had finally reached a crossroads.
“Your Grace, we’ve finished searching the eastern village.”
A knight who had scouted the east hurriedly reported.
“We questioned every resident and examined the village’s structure, but there was nothing unusual.”
“Good work.”
Fernan nodded and gestured for them to move to the next area. The knights bowed and dispersed.
Mateus had mentioned another clue—the divine proxies wouldn’t just hide in obscurity.
As beings wielding power close to the divine, they would likely use their abilities to secretly aid others.
Perhaps acting as healers in slums, for instance.
So if they dug deep enough, they might find someone with inexplicable abilities.
After all, with power near that of a god, it would be harder not to stand out.
