Chapter 116: Chapter 116

We returned to the carriage.

As it sped along the road, I leaned against the seat, lost in thought.

900 years. A prophecy. The light.

No matter how I looked at it, it was all referring to Eden.

Then, what did it mean for the radiant light to touch the world?

I actually snorted at the absurdity of my own thought.

“You’re laughing this time.”

“What? Don’t pick a fight with me, Cruello.”

“You were angry just a moment ago.”

“Because it was a situation worth getting angry over!”

Cruello smiled, his eyes curving with amusement.

He looked far too entertained, despite hearing something that should have infuriated him.

Meanwhile, I was the only one who had gotten mad on his behalf, making me look like a fool.

“Cruello, you’re nothing more than a dog of the caste system.”

“...That was sudden.”

“You usually retaliate harshly over the smallest slights, but you let the Emperor off just because of his title.”

“Most people don’t use the phrase ‘let off’ when talking about an Emperor.”

“Cruello, you’re a dog of the caste system.”

That made him burst into laughter.

“Well, darling, for someone who got mad, you were still pretty kind. You even dispelled that spell for him.”

“Speaking of which—assassinate the Emperor at a time when it won’t raise suspicion.”

“I said I was joking?”

Why was he just laughing instead of correcting himself?

I guess I was mistaken in thinking he was unaffected.

Of course, there was no way he’d be in a good mood after being told to take the fall for treason just to clean up the Emperor’s mess.

I had worked so hard to build his self-esteem when I was Amy.

If this was the decision Cruello had reached, I had no intention of interfering.

Pebula, the Emperor is coming.

Not now, but eventually.

“Darling, you must really like me. Considering you even got angry on my behalf.”

“That’s really out of nowhere.”

“What? What is it? Don’t trail off ominously—just say it properly.”

“That prophecy from earlier.”

That wasn’t what he had been about to say.

But given the topic, I didn’t press him about it.

“Just as you said, the First Prophet might still be alive.”

“So, do you have any suspects?”

Was this my chance to point out the most suspicious person?

Since I had the opportunity, I didn’t hesitate.

“Because he’s suspicious!”

My reasoning was flimsy at best, but that was all I had.

Maybe that was natural.

Someone as sharp as Eden, who had manipulated events enough to make me doubt Pebula, wouldn’t leave any obvious clues.

I had even considered lying about receiving divine revelation, but I decided to keep that as a last resort.

“There’s also the statistical data that Sir Daedire provided.”

“If that data is correct, confirming it should be simple. Eden is practically on his deathbed. If he dies soon, he’ll probably just move into another body.”

“Do you think we can predict what his next body will be?”

I recalled the statistical report.

The bodies Eden had occupied didn’t share any striking similarities.

Except that they were all collateral bloodlines of White Desert.

“There’s also the matter of how he switches bodies. If he has hundreds of spares lined up, it’ll be a nightmare to deal with.”

Cruello’s voice was calm, but I couldn’t help grimacing.

It would be nice if there were some absurdly complicated conditions for Eden to transfer bodies.

But things had rarely gone my way before.

I let out a long sigh.

My body still hadn’t fully recovered, but we couldn’t afford to sit around and wait.

“I think we need to go to the Grand Temple.”

With some luck, we might find a hint.

Besides, Eden had no way of knowing that Amy and Viga were the same person as Siora.

Even if he knew my true identity, that much was still a mystery to him.

He stared at me for a moment before nodding.

The carriage changed course toward the Grand Temple.

We received the news of Eden White Desert’s death.

Minuet Bonetti’s daily routine was packed.

She had suddenly inherited her title, but thanks to thorough training, she handled it well.

Of course, the transition wasn’t perfect, so she relied on the former chief advisor’s assistance.

Receiving reports from Whistle, reviewing Bonetti’s trade records, managing new political issues in the capital, and cleaning up the previous count’s financial scandals.

By the time she had finished learning and handling all of it, exhaustion weighed down her eyelids.

She never showed it to others, but it wasn’t uncommon for Minuet to doze off in her office.

Today was no different.

She had only leaned against her chair for a brief moment, letting her eyes close—

But slumber didn’t miss the opportunity to consume her.

Her chest rose and fell steadily.

A change began in her limp, resting hand.

A blue vein twitched.

Then, her fingers, her wrist—her entire hand convulsed unnaturally.

Her body remained still in sleep, yet something about the movement was deeply unsettling.

Suddenly, her eyelids snapped open.

Her movements were awkward, unnatural.

She blinked, pressing her eyelids down and lifting them again, rolling her gaze in all directions.

Her shoulders twitched.

She flexed her arms and legs, jerky at first, then gradually more fluid.

Like a marionette adjusting to its strings.

She drummed her fingers on the desk as if testing them, then slowly rose from her seat.

Her movements were stiff and uncoordinated, like a wooden doll.

But as she walked around the office, staggering at first, each step grew smoother.

After a moment of thought, she picked up a hand mirror.

She peered into her reflection.

Then, she opened her mouth.

She adjusted her tone, speaking over and over until she reclaimed her usual voice.

Her lips curled upward, her expression almost right.

After a few more tries, she finally restored her familiar smile.

Minuet smiled gently.

“Hello, Siora. Hello, Siora. Hello, Siora.”

She murmured to herself, her lips forming a silent chant.

“Hello, Siora. Good morning. Ah, but it’s already evening, isn’t it? When will you return? I’m looking forward to it. Will you recognize me? No, I suppose not.”

Minuet’s smile vanished in an instant.

She sharply turned toward the window, tilting her head.

“That bird again, I suppose.”

Minuet laughed as she rose from her seat.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Gavotte swiftly caught Pianissimo as the tiny spirit dove into his arms.

That was not what he had been trying to see.

Gavotte had simply been practicing his spirit magic as usual, calling on Pianissimo to share its senses with him.

It was a spell that connected their perceptions.

At first, everything had been going smoothly.

Then, all of a sudden, the little bird had taken off.

Bwek, bwek! Cheerfully chirping, it flapped away toward something.

Recently, Pianissimo had taken a liking to surprising Siora with sudden visits, so Gavotte assumed she had returned home.

But the bird’s destination was Minuet’s office.

And whatever it had seen there—it had startled even the tiny spirit, causing it to flee immediately.

But by then, it was too late.

Gavotte had already seen everything through its eyes.

Minuet was acting strange.

Why was she calling out Siora’s name?

And in such an eerie way, too.

He wanted to believe he was mistaken, but ever since bonding with Pianissimo, his instincts had become razor-sharp.

That woman is not Minuet.

Her face was the same. Her voice was the same.

Damn it. What the hell is going on?

After a brief moment of hesitation, Gavotte dashed to his desk, tearing a page from his notebook.

He scribbled a message in hurried strokes, folded the paper, and handed it to the waiting bird.

Pianissimo, still visibly shaken, took the note in its beak and immediately took flight.

As Gavotte let out a tense sigh—

A knock echoed through the room.

“It’s me, Bati. I can come in, right?”

Cold sweat trickled down his spine.

“Is Eden’s death really that shocking to you?”

Cruello’s question only made my turbulent thoughts even more chaotic.

Should I have gone to him earlier?

Or would it have been better never to meet him at all?

“What if he’s already moved into another body?”

“Strictly speaking, nothing changes. If your theory is correct, it’s not like he’ll quietly stay hidden.”

“Or Daedire Crimson’s hypothesis could be completely wrong.”

Moments frustrated me the most.

Eden hadn’t just disappeared forever.

But to say that aloud—

Yes, yes. I knew that was coming.

The divine command echoed in my mind.

Would it be sacrilegious to admit that it was starting to annoy me?

I scowled, unable to suppress my irritation.

“Anyway. Look into White Desert’s collateral branches for me, Cruello.”

I kept my response vague and turned away.

Through the carriage window, I saw the Bonetti estate growing closer.

And from its direction—

A small bird was flying toward us.

“Cruello, what do you see over there?”

Before I could even explain, Pianissimo shot straight through the window.

The round little bird tumbled across the floor before dramatically standing upright on its two legs.

For a spirit, it had quite the flair for theatrical entrances.

Still, it was adorable.

I gave it an approving clap, and it puffed out its chest proudly.

“Can I ask what’s going on now, darling?”

Pianissimo flapped its wings frantically, making ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) an odd series of gestures, then held out a small note.

It was hastily written, Gavotte’s scrawled handwriting barely legible.

"Do not return to the estate."

I blinked at the message.

Cruello, peering over my shoulder, tilted his head.

“Did you do something to make him mad, darling?”

“Huh? All I did was watch Daedire propose. You were there too.”

“Seems plausible. Your brother does seem a bit narrow-minded.”

Cruello summoned the coachman and ordered him to change our course.

The Bonetti estate, which had been just moments away, began fading into the distance.

Pianissimo, startled, turned as if to fly away without so much as a farewell.

Something told me I should be cautious.

I grabbed the tiny bird and slipped a gate ring into its beak.

Pianissimo tilted its head in confusion before clamping down on the ring and flying off.

I watched it go, my mind racing, then turned back to Cruello.

“...You don’t even know what’s happening. Why did you turn the carriage around?”

“In my experience, ignoring messages like that rarely ends well. We can figure out what happened at the estate and return later.”

Cruello’s lips curved into a smirk.

“In the meantime, let’s have dinner together.”

And so, the carriage arrived at the White Desert Duke’s residence.

As we entered, Cruello immediately ordered his men to investigate the situation at Bonetti.

Even as I ate, my thoughts remained stuck on the note from earlier.

My body hadn’t fully recovered, so Cruello’s decision had been the right one.

Meeting Eden had been reckless to begin with.

Gavotte... he would probably be fine.

I had given him the gate ring, after all.

Why did nothing ever go smoothly these days?

I stifled a sigh and set my fork down.

He had already finished his meal and was simply watching me eat.

Clearly, he still didn’t see me as a friend.

“Do you want dessert?”

“It’s strawberry pudding.”

If I wanted to return without regrets, I had to try as many new desserts as possible.

It wouldn’t do if I tried to escape the temple again just because I was craving sweets.

This was a necessary investment for the future.

As I ate my pudding, the moment I had been waiting for finally arrived.

One of Cruello’s men returned.

Cruello leaned in as he was whispered the report, then dismissed him.

I swallowed my last bite and asked,

“What happened at the Bonetti estate?”

Then what was that note for?

The words "nothing happened" only made me more suspicious.

Perhaps something had happened, but it had gone unnoticed.

I needed to see Gavotte myself.

But in my current condition, going alone wasn’t an option.

I called out to my favorite accomplice.