Free Web Novel“...Yeah. It’s far from over. This country, this city, and... so many other things still remain.”
The words “priorities come first” did not make Afrella misunderstand anything. Instead, she instinctively revealed a bitter smile, looking deeply troubled.
Because although Saint Peron V was dead, the mess he had left behind was enough to give anyone a headache.
The Salvation Society’s failed plan.
The royal capital still drowning in catastrophe.
The crumbling Kingdom.
And the now-vacant throne.
One after another, every single issue was both immensely important and impossibly complicated.
Afrella had no confidence whatsoever in handling them.
“So...”
Afrella blinked her watery eyes again and looked at Muen expectantly.
“Can you help me?”
“Uh... that’s probably not a good idea. You know my real identity. Strictly speaking, I’m an outsider. And I’ve already done everything I reasonably can...”
“If you’re willing to help me, I won’t owe you in vain. Neither will the Kingdom.”
Afrella bit her lip lightly, a blush spreading across her cheeks.
“You can make requests. Anything you want, including—”
“Cough... cough cough!”
Muen immediately burst into another fit of coughing, like some kept man whose body had been ruined from eating too much soft rice.
“Stop! Stop right there! This kind of topic is way too dangerous right now. My reputation is already bad enough. I don’t need another criminal charge added on top of it!”
“Hmph. I thought you wouldn’t care about that sort of thing...” Afrella huffed softly.
“A believer should act like a believer. Don’t forget, I’m your god. What you’re doing counts as blasphemy, understand?”
Muen straightened his face and lectured her with forced seriousness, only to discover that his little believer was completely immune to this tactic and even dared to stick out her tongue at him mischievously.
Still...
Seeing her return to acting like the bratty little kid she used to be finally let him relax slightly.
“Instead of thinking about nonsense like that, you should figure out how to make use of that old bastard’s death. The Kingdom desperately needs someone to step forward and stabilize the situation right now. No matter how terrible he was, the legitimacy given to you by his bloodline and your status is an indispensable weapon.”
Muen warned her seriously.
After all, he had once helped Celicia carry out a rebellion—no, correction, a righteous restoration against traitors—and had become the man standing behind Her Majesty the Empress...
So he had gained at least a little experience in this area.
He understood that what the Kingdom needed most right now was a central pillar.
Only once authority stabilized from top to bottom could this nation—still not entirely collapsed—continue operating at all and prevent its wounds from worsening further.
Otherwise, the effects of this disaster would continue expanding without limit.
As for what came afterward—how to eliminate the now-failed Salvation Society, how to stop the catastrophe consuming this city, and how to deal with both the Empire and the Salvation Society—that would all have to be handled separately later.
“Damn... this road ahead is rough.”
Just thinking about it already gave Muen a headache.
Dumping all of this onto the shoulders of a girl barely in her teens was simply too cruel.
He should help where he could, at least enough to stop Celicia from flying into humiliation and rage after the timeline reset and leading an army to flatten the entire city out of spite for being toyed with.
Wouldn’t all his efforts have been for nothing otherwise?
“Wait... hold on. Aren’t I technically on the Empire’s side? Thinking this much about the Kingdom... does that count as treason?”
Muen pondered seriously.
No.
Of course not.
He was just trying to save people. Things had long since surpassed national borders at this point.
“So really, this is all Saint Peron V’s fault. If that old bastard had behaved even remotely like a human being, things never would’ve ended up here.”
The more Muen thought about it, the angrier he became. Glancing toward the corpse lying on the floor with its twisted, pitiful expression, he suddenly felt an urge to walk over and kick it a few times.
Look at him.
Dying this miserably, this hideously ugly—even with a bouquet of white flowers resting on his chest, there wasn’t a single thing kingly about the way he died.
“You should treat this as a warning, understand?” Muen lectured Afrella seriously.
“Mhm. I’ll never become like him.” Afrella answered just as seriously.
“Good.”
Muen scratched his head and dragged his exhausted body toward the old king’s corpse.
“I’ll clean up this old bastard’s body first. Looking at him is annoying enough already. And I don’t even know who left those flowers. That old bastard hardly deserves—”
...Hm?
Wait.
Muen suddenly froze.
Flowers?
Right.
Where did the flowers come from?
Who left them?
There were only two living people here: himself and Afrella. Afrella had just stabbed the old man herself, so there was no way she would place flowers on him.
And Muen definitely had not done it either.
So the person who left them was—
The image flickered... no, that was wrong. Nothing in the image had changed.
Rather, a third living person had appeared here at some unknown point, and neither Muen nor Afrella had noticed in the slightest.
The corner of Muen’s eye twitched violently as he looked up.
A plain cloth robe entered his vision.
The man wearing it was an elderly figure with snow-white hair and beard, a gentle face, and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He scattered vivid petals across Saint Peron V’s corpse while sighing softly:
“A man with grand ambitions, yet little true talent. Long-sighted, yet stubborn and self-righteous. Calling himself bold and heroic, yet cowardly as a rat. Obsessed with love... yet betraying the one he loved.”
“In the end, he died miserably, gained nothing, and left behind only devastation and infamy for future generations.”
“What wonderfully standard material. A perfect demonstration of humanity’s evil. A flawless display of humanity’s hopelessly vile nature. I almost want to preserve you as a specimen and display you properly for those who have yet to understand the truth.”
“However...”
The old man scattered the last of the flowers and smiled as he asked:
“From your personal perspective, after sacrificing so much only to have everything taken away in the end... are you unwilling to accept it?”
“I... am unwilling.”
Saint Peron V was already dead.
Yet the corpse still opened its mouth and spoke, repeating the same final words he had uttered before death.
Vile by nature.
Filthy and corrupt.
And utterly unrepentant, even in death.
“Excellent.”
The old man’s smile widened further.
“Then what are you willing to offer?”
“Everything,” the corpse answered without the slightest hesitation.
“Then offer your everything to me, and I shall grant you qualification to cleanse your sins and enter the New World.”
“The... New World?”
The corpse sounded puzzled.
“Will I still be a king?”
“You will.”
The old man smiled mockingly.
“You shall become a king. One of the kings of the New World.”
“Then... good.”
The corpse answered:
“The agreement is made. Honor your promise.”
“This is an oath. Why would I go back on it?”
The old man reached out and grabbed something. A dim golden light floated out from Saint Peron V’s corpse and into his hand.
In that instant, the entire Kingdom seemed to tremble faintly.
From the western deserts to the eastern coastline, from the northern wastelands to the southern battlefields, everyone across the Kingdom subconsciously lifted their heads at that exact moment.
They saw nothing.
Yet all of them felt as though something had suddenly wrapped around their necks.
“Go back on it? Heh...”
The old man stared at the dark golden light in his hand, his eyes blazing with a passion even he could not completely suppress.
“Why would I? Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to say those words willingly?”
“Kaya Gaius!!!”
Perhaps it lasted only an instant.
Perhaps it lasted an eternity.
The moment he saw him, Muen had already roared the name aloud.
Yet by the time his voice echoed through the room, Gaius’s conversation with Saint Peron V had already ended.
The old man turned back with a gentle smile and inclined his head politely.
“Yes. It’s been a long time, Muen Campbell.”
The Holy Lord of Salvation.
Kaya Gaius.
The most infamous monster alive in this age still appeared exactly as he had when Muen first met him—kind, gentle, and impeccably courteous.
Naturally, Muen was not fooled by the facade.
The moment he roared, his body had already reacted almost instinctively.
But it was not an attack.
He knew the gap between himself and this man—someone who stood shoulder to shoulder with the Pope of the Church at the absolute summit of humanity—was impossible to overcome.
So without hesitation, he attempted to push the Black Sun within his mental space and reset everything.
However—
“Why bother?”
Gaius let out a soft sigh.
Muen suddenly felt a gentle force wrapping around him.
No—not suddenly.
That force had already enveloped his entire body long ago. He simply had not realized it until Gaius sighed.
Just like how he had only noticed Gaius’s presence after seeing the bouquet of flowers.
A mysterious power surrounded Muen, leaving him feeling as though he were floating in empty air. He tried to move the Black Sun and reverse time, but he could no longer sense the Black Sun’s existence at all.
Touch. Perception. Everything was gone.
A chill ran through Muen as he realized he could no longer establish any connection with his mental space.
Only a fragment of his true self remained, glaring furiously at Gaius.
“You shameless bastard.”
Only Muen’s head could still move, but he wasted no opportunity and immediately cursed out loud:
“I tolerated the Witch of Repentance before, but you’re the Holy Lord of Salvation. And you came personally just to deal with a small fry like me?”
Honestly, Gaius’s appearance was completely outside Muen’s expectations.
Under normal circumstances, Gaius should have been fully focused on controlling that Ancient Magic capable of manipulating timelines.
A magic of such terrifying scale was probably something only Gaius himself could operate within the entire Salvation Society.
Yet he had still—
“You’re correct. I really cannot casually leave my position. So coming here this time required paying quite a heavy price.”
Gaius waved his hand lightly, and only then did Muen notice that his figure appeared somewhat dim, almost like a phantom.
Yet at the same time, it was more solid than a mere phantom, because the overwhelming aura suppressing Muen was undeniably real.
“It’s only a soul projection. The cost is great, but it guarantees success. As for specifically coming to deal with you...”
Gaius studied Muen meaningfully.
“I’m actually saving you, Muen Campbell.”
“If you wanted to save me, you should let me go.” Muen sneered.
“Let you go? So you can try reversing time again, only to discover the moment for paying the price has finally arrived—and die because you can no longer pay it?”
Gaius grabbed one of Muen’s arms.
Pulling back the sleeve, he revealed a powerful, well-built arm covered entirely in black cracks spreading from within.
And not just his arm.
Muen’s entire body was covered in those porcelain-like fracture marks. He had merely hidden them all this time.
“Repeatedly reversing time. Repeatedly starting over. Yet the cost is deferred to some future point in time, allowing you to use that power almost limitlessly until that moment arrives. That is the wonder of time itself.”
Gaius clicked his tongue in admiration.
“Unfortunately, freeloading has limits. The more you use it, the greater the accumulated price becomes, and the closer that payment point approaches your current timeline, until eventually the moment comes when you must repay the debt.”
“...”
Muen remained silent.
“If my guess is correct, you probably only have one or two more uses left. Or perhaps this very time would already require payment.”
Gaius stared at Muen with amused eyes.
“But... what exactly do you still possess that can pay the price now?”
