Chapter 73: This Is Not a Hero’s Story

Lunchtime was approaching, and the main hall of Saint Elliott Cathedral was growing ever emptier.

The Choir had long since finished rehearsing, and the hungry Amelia was anxiously rubbing her stomach.

She was worried about her friend Marianne, but she couldn’t help wondering if the Dining Hall would be serving her favorite Cream Stew today.

“Why isn’t Marianne back yet… Did something happen to her? It’s all Allen de Laval’s fault! Poor Marianne, ending up with such a jerk.” she muttered under her breath.

“But what if I go eat and she comes back while I’m gone? Wouldn’t it be terrible if I missed her…”

As she waged this fierce inner battle, footsteps echoed from the deeper reaches of the Cathedral.

Amelia looked up in delight, and sure enough, she spotted Marianne’s figure!

She promptly cast aside thoughts of stew and every other worry, hurrying over and grabbing Marianne’s hand, anxiously looking her up and down:

“Are you okay? I saw you all rushing off earlier, and you looked so pale—what on earth happened?”

Witnessing this “heartfelt” scene of friendship, Allen couldn’t help but give his little maid a mental thumbs up.

Marianne, you’ve found yourself a good friend!

Truly, a scene of two emotionally “pure” beauties sticking together was the most beautiful sight in the world!

Yuri is the best!

Allen cleared his throat softly to remind them, “Marianne, since it’s rare for you to meet, you should have a good chat with your friend.”

It was only then that Amelia noticed Allen’s presence.

She immediately shot a wary look at this “demon king” in her mind, only to find that he was now full of vigor—nothing like his earlier, near-death appearance.

What’s going on? Was he just pretending earlier?

But what was the point of putting on such an act?

She couldn’t make sense of it!

Seeing the undisguised wariness in Amelia’s eyes, Allen wasn’t angry at all—in fact, he was quite pleased.

Only such unfeigned hostility could keep his mind clear.

Lately, everything had been going so smoothly it was almost unsettling, to the point that he’d started taking increasingly reckless risks.

He knew that the slightest carelessness would lead to utter ruin, yet it was precisely these aggressive strategies that had brought him such success.

Still, it was time to switch back to “cautious mode.”

Because Amelia posed no threat, her hostility was like a bucket of cold water, reminding him with perfect clarity: nothing had fundamentally changed.

He’d merely reached a private agreement with the upper echelons of the Church—hardly grounds for complacency.

The Church was no monolith, but a complicated collective made up of countless factions and groups. And the Inquisition’s attitude toward him was still one of surveillance and suspicion.

The malice of this world toward him had never disappeared; it still labored tirelessly to consign him to a death ending.

After locking eyes with Livia von Stern for a moment that morning, Allen had realized something—this Livia he’d seen was not the “original” Livia.

He knew exactly what the Livia from when they first enrolled was like: strong-willed, striving for perfection, her personality still tinged with an adorable innocence befitting a protagonist.

But the Livia at the Triumphal Procession was more mature in demeanor and more “fashionable” in her attire—closer to the version at the end of last week, the one who had transformed from a girl into a poised noblewoman after three years of trials.

What was more, when she recognized him, a flash of surprise and complexity crossed her eyes.

That was truly intriguing.

The Star Listener had said that he wasn’t the only one who’d achieved enlightenment and transcendence from an endless nightmare.

Since that lunatic had retained his memories, Allen’s suspicion that Livia also retained hers was very likely correct.

That was the doubt that had lingered with Allen all along: was it really him experiencing reincarnation, or was Livia the one truly going through endless cycles?

It was just that some people, luckily (or unluckily), retained their memories: him, the Star Listener, and perhaps this round’s Livia as well?

The so-called reincarnation hardly fit scientific principles; Allen suspected that behind it all, the Observer or the Evil God was using incomprehensible power to conduct some kind of “experiment.”

And this, his thousandth round, was when the experiment had moved from theory to practical testing.

When Allen awoke, the Marriage Contract had already been set and not yet torn up, suggesting that Livia had awakened her memories and entered this round earlier than him.

…Could it be that Livia, the protagonist, was the real “test subject” after all?

Following this train of thought: the Triumphal Procession had clearly been prepared for Livia, yet she seemed unhappy—even fragile.

Could it be that the Evil God, disguised as the Holy One, had implanted some strange goal in her mind?

Did the Star Listener hint that Livia would fall in love with him because it was the Evil God’s directive?

Even the fact that the Marriage Contract still hadn’t been annulled showed that Livia was indeed trying to approach him.

Even the Star Listener knew he was the Observer’s pawn, so of course the Evil God could sense it as well.

Could it be that Allen’s previous life had lasted so long that he had finally exposed himself completely?

Thinking back, perhaps killing that Dustfallen cultist who tried to sneak into the graduation banquet had been a huge blunder.

A mere Dustfallen couldn’t possibly assassinate the late-game powerhouse Livia; his presence there was almost certainly the Evil God’s doing.

His real target wasn’t Livia at all, but… Allen himself?

So… the Evil God had started laying plans from way back then?!

A chill belatedly crept up Allen’s spine—if the Evil God truly had no scruples, it could have just “blocked the spring” and killed him outright.

But Allen knew very well, the Evil God would never do such a thing.

The Evil God and the Observer, in essence, were both timeless, infinitely bored beings.

Since they could spend ten thousand years orchestrating a grand spectacle, there was no way they’d pass up such fresh entertainment.

Hmm, come to think of it, having a noble, aloof otome game protagonist like Livia marry a second-rate villain who isn’t even worthy of being her rival really was full of contrast and drama.

Too bad Allen wasn’t some cowardly, lecherous, goblin-like fiend, and Livia wasn’t a repressed knight princess waiting to be captured.

Allen knew that some birds could never be caged; their feathers were just too bright.

Livia was such a free bird—she would never submit easily to fate.

Allen believed she would awaken in the end.

Putting aside personal grudges, as a mere fan of 《Starlit Romance》, he really admired the original depiction of Livia.

Although Allen shared his name with a certain crazed man, it wasn’t in his character to say things like, “The enemy lies beyond the sea.”

That was something Livia would say.

In the original’s solo ending, Livia kept growing stronger in pursuit of freedom and justice, trying to end war by force, yet time and again ran into obstacles and witnessed countless tragedies.

At last, she came to realize: a single person’s justice could not change the sins of an entire era; slaughter only led to endless cycles.

In an age with no absolute fairness or justice, good and evil shifted only with the viewpoint.

No one could stand on high to judge evil, no one could wield “justice” to wage war.

At the end of the story, she left her Starshine Sword before Marianne’s Funeral, leaving her own weakness behind.

She bid Marianne a gentle farewell, then turned and plunged into the mighty tides of the era.

That chapter closed with: “This is not a hero’s tale, but one day, someone will become a Hero.”

Allen felt Livia’s pursuit of justice was not wrong; even if she became a blood-stained “Hero,” she was still the strongest symbol for the oppressed.

The open ending was very moving—players felt as though they had witnessed Livia’s entire, glorious life.

It was precisely because Allen understood Livia that he despised anyone toying with the fate of such a strong girl.

Thus, he needed even greater wisdom to deal with the Evil God and win Livia’s trust.

Simply killing or “conquering” Livia was meaningless.

Allen absolutely refused to let the Evil God have its way—his sights weren’t set on Livia, but on those Evil Gods up high!

When you see your pawn break free of control, the plot completely derailed, will you still find it fun?

Allen settled on his ultimate feelings for Livia: he was a “true solo fan” who only wished for her freedom.

From now on, if he ever found his feelings for Livia changing, it would probably be the Evil God meddling.

This realization was crucial. Only such inhuman rationality was a true weapon against the Evil God.

Love was too extravagant; hatred was enough.

Only when the fires of hatred burned the soul could one maintain the most terrifying clarity.

Marianne… she was already free.

Allen had extinguished her hatred, let love take its place, and now she could pursue happiness freely. This was his compensation and redemption for her.

As for Amelia… Allen really had no particular thoughts about her.

But since this little Sister disliked him so much, why not let her experience what “hatred” really felt like?

That was quite an “interesting” emotion!

Allen’s villainous mischief flared up again.

“By the way, Miss Amelia,” he said, wearing a perfectly harmless smile as he tossed out a bombshell,

“I have some news for you. Your teacher, Luthien, the Archbishop, has entrusted you to me. From now on, you’ll be working as my assistant, carrying out practical charity for the people.”

“Eh?!!”

Amelia froze where she stood, as if struck by a bolt from the blue. Her whole world… collapsed!

First, she looked at Marianne, who gave her a silent nod. Then she turned to Anna, who only tilted her head, looking at her in clueless confusion.

After confirming that this red-haired Sister was indeed a dunce nothing like herself, she desperately looked to the stern Judge Victor she didn’t know.

Judge Victor nodded slightly and said solemnly, “Sister Amelia, Archbishop Luthien was once my teacher as well. This is a valuable opportunity for hands-on experience—be sure to treasure it. The Lord looks forward to your service to the world.”

“Teacher… how could this…” Amelia murmured blankly.

It was good that her teacher had given her the chance to investigate Allen’s true nature, but so soon, and having to spend every day together? She wasn’t ready at all!

What if this “Beast” who had once hurt Marianne tried something with her?

She was a pure Sister! If she was bewitched by this suspectedly evil “demon king,” wouldn’t even the Lord be disappointed in her?

Saint Elliott… merciful Lord… what should I do? But… I can’t disobey Teacher’s orders!

“Well, if you really don’t want to, I can talk to His Grace, the Archbishop, again,” Allen sighed with feigned regret.

“Ah, I never imagined Miss Amelia disliked interacting with the people so much.”

Jerk! I just hate dealing with you!!!

Amelia was so angry she ground her teeth, but could only grit them and say, “P-pleased to work with you, Mr. Laval…!”

“Miss Amelia, looking forward to working together.”

Seeing Amelia bristle like a cat about to hiss at him, Allen burst out laughing and gestured for Marianne to go have a heartfelt talk with her friend.

Though Marianne couldn’t shake the feeling that Amelia was about to be run in circles by this scheming young master, she only sighed.

After all… she was planning to run Amelia in circles herself.

Yes, she and Allen were a match made in heaven. When it came to mischief, the two of them really were cut from the same cloth.