The presence of Kalia was far more significant than Kalia herself had ever thought.
“Honestly, the reason so many people were able to gather here is largely thanks to you. I spent the whole month spreading rumors—about your courage and nobility.
And subtly, I inserted stories about an even greater hero. People believe what they see right in front of them. To understand the bravery and nobility of a hero, it’s better to have a comparable figure alongside.”
Louis spoke with a serious expression.
“So, in this case, you could say your contribution was greater than mine.”
Of course, things weren’t as simple as that. Reports suggested that people were gathering not just in the duchy but also in other territories.
Knowing the meticulous Louis, he might have found a way to contact Fia too. At the very least, he must have reached out to the church.
It couldn’t be guaranteed that they received precise information.
After all, Fia wouldn’t have shared her sacrilegious claim of “negotiating with the goddess” with others. However, even with minimal context, anyone could infer the need to mobilize as many people as possible.
Perhaps Louis had used his influence over other nobles to ensure there were no gaps in the plan.
“In that sense, your decision can be considered the right one.”
“This wasn’t the outcome I was aiming for…..”
What she had pursued at the start was honor.
While Louis was set to succeed their father as the Duke, Kalia’s path was different.
Had she chosen a simpler life, she might have married a count, another duke, or even royalty and lived peacefully in the kingdom’s upper echelons. But Kalia had been dissatisfied with such a life.
‘I want to write my own history.’
‘I want to wield influence equal to that of my father or brother.’
…Yes, Louis’s assessment of Kalia had been mostly accurate, at least during her younger years.
And now, Louis’s words were correct once again. Kalia’s decision had indeed been the right one.
Even if Louis were to step down as the Duke’s heir and hand the role over to Kalia, none of the people would oppose it.
The loyal companion who stood by the hero until the end—the great Kalia, who faced the Demon King without flinching and ultimately helped the hero defeat the Demon King’s army and the Demon King himself.
If such a person were to govern their land, it would be a triumph both symbolically and practically for the people. Even the current royal family wouldn’t be able to ignore the choice.
But Kalia had no intention of taking that path.
Honor and nobility.
Kalia had seen all of it up close.
At first, she had simply pursued honor: climbing higher, achieving more accomplishments. Leaving her position as the knight commander to follow the hero had been a part of that ambition.
She thought that if the daughter of the most noble family risked her life fighting and survived, she could one day become a hero herself and write a history entirely different from her father or brother’s.
Even if she lost her life, at least her name would be recorded in history books.
But soon, her thoughts began to change.
There was someone who did good regardless of recognition. Someone who believed that nobility was not defined by title or lineage.
A fool who tirelessly fought to save everyone, unaware of the magnitude of the power they held in their hands.
And before Kalia knew it, she had begun to chase after that fool’s back.
Truthfully, she thought that she was the one who should have died in the end. Many times over.
She could never voice such thoughts before Fia, Dana, or Arna, but… deep down, Kalia believed that if someone had to disappear, it should have been her.
…She could be replaced. Just as her brother had once said.
After all, she had been just another knight who idolized the hero.
“…You seem to be deep in thought.”
Louis broke the silence.
“I suppose so.”
Leaning against the terrace railing, Kalia looked at the crowd cheering for her. This applause wasn’t meant for her—it was meant for the hero.
“Perhaps you might feel more clarity if you spoke with the hero. Conversations during battle and those after everything is over are never the same.”
“…..”
Kalia quietly gazed at her brother beside her, then suddenly asked, almost offhandedly:
“Why are you being so cooperative? You’ve always thought of the hero as an inexplicable, incomprehensible being.”
A being he even considered frightening.
So why was he so actively helping to bring the hero here?
“…..”
Louis remained silent for a moment.
“I wonder.”
He muttered as if he didn’t know the answer himself.
But this time, he gave a reply.
“Maybe it’s because they were the first people I couldn’t understand. And now I want to analyze them one more time.”
If he kept viewing the hero that way, he’d never truly understand them.
But, of course, Kalia didn’t say that out loud.
*
When countless people gather to pray, the divine power emanating from each person often melds into one. That sight is breathtakingly beautiful—so much so that simply being a part of that crowd fills one with pride.
However, such an event usually occurred in grand cathedrals, only once every few decades. It was not easy to bring everyone together with one heart and one will.
Typically, this happened when a king passed away or when someone renowned and beloved by all the people departed from this world.
“Will it work?”
Kalia murmured as she returned to the capital through the teleportation gate. Her voice trembled slightly with unease.
“Yes, certainly,”
Fia answered with firm confidence.
“Theoretically, it’s perfect. It happened when the previous pope passed away, and also during the coronation of His Majesty the King.
This time, there are even more people gathered. While it may still be difficult to reach the Realm of Revelation with just this power…”
Dana, who was supporting Fia’s words, held a notebook filled with letters written by Shihyun. It seemed they wanted at least some form of interpreter in case verbal communication failed.
Or perhaps, that notebook was simply that precious to her, serving as evidence to present before the goddess herself.
“Are you saying that by borrowing the power of the Prophet, we can open a gateway to another world…?”
“Yes. To be honest, this prayer is closer to a ritual to meet the goddess directly.”
At those words, everyone fell silent.
“We can do it. Absolutely,” Fia declared.
And then—
“…Ah…!”
Who had let out that exclamation?
Light shone through the window.
It was a light that couldn’t possibly occur naturally—a radiant white characteristic of divine power, streaked here and there with traces of black.
All four of them were captivated by the sight outside the building’s windows.
No one stepped outside. They were wary of distracting anyone from their prayers with their presence.
Even from within the confines of this small building, the light was breathtakingly beautiful.
“…Ah…”
This time, the voice was unmistakable.
It was Fia’s voice.
The same light they saw outside began to emanate from her. A halo appeared behind her head, and light rose slowly, yet unmistakably, from her hands.
“…Is it done?”
Arna murmured softly. Dana nodded in agreement, while Kalia silently watched Fia’s transformation.
“…Then, let us begin,” Fia said.
The other three nodded.
Clasping her hands together, Fia began her prayer to the goddess.
*
“Finally, you’ve made it here.”
The voice was utterly indifferent.
It was a bit presumptuous to judge the goddess based on this first encounter, but that was truly what her voice conveyed.
Should I call it a temple?
The place they stood in was a wondrous space—an immense, unending structure that could only belong to the realm of myths, clearly beyond the capability of human hands.
At the center of an endlessly expanding corridor, there was a woman. She sat at a table, resting her chin in her hand.
Her hair was pink, and she wore a simple white dress. The skirt that flowed down to her ankles and the sleeves that covered her wrists made her seem extraordinarily pure.
“…Goddess.”
“No, that’s enough.”
As Fia, with a tense expression, moved to kneel, the goddess waved her hand to refuse the gesture.
The action seemed almost dismissive.
Even Dana, Kalia, and Arna were caught off guard by her casual attitude.
“There’s no need to waste time insisting on formality when you’ve come all this way just to talk to me.”
At a glance, it sounded like a boundlessly benevolent statement. As if she were telling them they didn’t need to worship her with all their might, that they could relax in her presence.
However, the words that followed bore a weight that was nearly unbearable for them.
“Then, try convincing me. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll grant your wish.”
Convince her.
That was the decree of the “goddess.”
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