Chapter 79: Chapter 79

I wanted to see Julian’s expression, but I held back.

The memory orb finished playing, and the Emperor muttered in disbelief.

"How convenient—evidence appearing one after another."

"Perhaps it is divine will?"

"Ah, speaking of the temple, what exactly happened there? Are you claiming it was all coincidence?"

"There is no claim to make. I did not summon Sir Ro Blue, nor did I swap out Recanon’s holy relic."

"In fact, I have brought witnesses. With your permission, may I invite ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Saint Mamic and Sir Ro Blue to speak?"

At the Emperor’s easy approval, Mamic and Ro Blue entered the ballroom.

Honestly, they weren’t critical witnesses—but their names carried weight.

The two first offered brief bows to the Emperor.

Then, with a trembling voice, Mamic spoke.

"I am Mamic of the temple. The holy relic was not switched. And the claim that Lady Siora tried to abduct Sir Ro Blue is false. In truth, Sir Blue merely stepped outside because he wished to have a private conversation with me."

"As the Saint has said."

Mamic had spoken so breathlessly that Ro Blue’s response was even more concise.

It wasn’t the smoothest testimony, but as long as the meaning got across, that was enough.

I subtly raised a thumb, then lowered it.

"That concludes my statements. If anything remains unclear, I am willing to clarify, Your Majesty."

"I am convinced. You have brought forth a mountain of evidence and witnesses—how could I not believe you?"

Really? Just like that?

Well, I wasn’t complaining, but...

It almost felt as if the Emperor wanted this outcome.

Still, I wasn’t about to ruin a perfectly set table.

"I am honored that Your Majesty has been so open-minded to my claims. My late master would be pleased as well."

Returning to performance mode, I pulled out a handkerchief—

I had asked Cruello to grab any handkerchief, and he really grabbed just anything.

Still, since I wasn’t actually crying, I continued the act, slipping in one last request.

"And if it is possible, could Your Majesty investigate the granddaughter in question—"

"If an investigation is what you seek, then here I am."

A composed voice interrupted me.

I turned my head to see a scholarly-looking woman.

Her auburn hair, tied to one side, was identical to Nigellia’s.

Aside from appearing younger, her features and attire closely resembled Nigellia’s—including the gloves on her hands.

I recognized her at once.

So she had been mingling among the nobles.

And judging by the Emperor’s lack of surprise, he had already known she was here.

I felt like a jester in someone else’s performance.

It was slightly irritating.

"It is an honor to meet Your Majesty. Forgive me for taking so long to present myself—I dared not approach without permission."

After securing the Emperor’s approval to speak, Elin finally turned to me.

She was clearly smiling, yet the air around her was ice-cold.

She was well-trained in noble etiquette, that much was certain.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Siora. I am Elin, my grandmother’s granddaughter. I heard everything you said."

"Ah. It’s Siora Bonetti."

"It seems I misunderstood a few things. That convict truly was convincing—I almost believed him. Who could have known some unknown figure forced him into perjury?"

Ah. She was trying to dismiss the memory orb by claiming the instigator’s identity remained unknown.

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

Immediately, she bared her fangs.

"But I do find it curious that Saint Mamic claims she can distinguish the authenticity of the relic."

"Are you suggesting the Saint lacks that ability?"

"I realize it is impolite, but yes. She has handled Recanon’s relics for years, yet she possesses no divine power. Without divine power, how could she possibly be certain the relic wasn’t swapped?"

The blatant insult left even me slightly stunned.

I glanced at Mamic—her face had gone pale, almost blue.

But Elin wasn’t finished.

"In fact, isn’t it suspicious that the relic remained dormant until the rioters stormed the temple? If anything, that proves it was switched."

"I assert that by the time Lady Siora arrived at the temple, the relic had already been replaced—with another object that emitted divine energy."

"You’re not denying that it was divine energy. If I were truly a necromancer, I would have been gravely injured by it."

"Well, wasn’t the convict the only one who accused you of being a dark sorcerer? Since his perjury has been exposed, there is no need to cling to that claim."

"Then are you suggesting that someone without dark magic was promised leadership of Black Serpent?"

"Necromancers are too unstable. A single priest’s divine power would expose them in an instant."

Elin sighed, lightly rubbing her arm.

"Regrettably, my grandmother forced me to learn dark magic when I was young. As a result, I can never receive healing from priests."

"That sounds like a denial of Black Serpent being a necromancer faction."

"The important thing isn’t dark magic—it’s doctrine. If my grandmother spoke of ‘cleansing,’ perhaps she meant something else. A more calculated, cunning strategy?"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Nigellia’s words had leaned closer to that interpretation.

As Elin continued speaking, the atmosphere in the ballroom shifted again.

The Emperor didn’t seem entirely swayed to her side, but that was enough—Elin smiled coldly.

"Then, would you care to refute me? Either you, Lady Siora, or even Saint Mamic?"

Her gaze swept from Mamic to Ro Blue.

Fortunately, Ro Blue didn’t react as aggressively as he had in the temple.

Though, if glaring daggers counted as a response, that was a different matter.

Mamic barely managed to open her mouth.

Her voice trembled, making her seem frightened at a glance.

"...What if I can use divine power? Would that be enough proof that I can recognize a holy relic?"

Her tone, her expression—far more natural than before.

That’s right, just because she had been pushed down her whole life didn’t mean Mamic lacked a temper.

Elin tilted her head as if surprised, then nodded coolly.

"If you say so, then go ahead. Of course, we’ll need His Majesty’s approval first."

Naturally, the Emperor did not refuse.

"Since it was you, Lady Elin, who questioned my judgment, it would only be proper for you to receive my divine power directly. Though you did say it would harm you—"

"It will be minor. If I can atone for my rudeness in this way, I would be honored."

Elin lifted her lips into a mocking smirk and stepped forward.

She was certain that Mamic was lying.

Outside the temple, innate potential was the most crucial factor in becoming a priest.

Divine power usually manifested in childhood, and if it didn’t appear by early adulthood, it never would.

There had only been one case of it awakening past thirty.

Her confidence was understandable.

Even I had comforted Mamic, knowing how unlikely it was.

But the certainty in Elin’s expression cracked the moment Mamic grabbed her hands.

Realizing too late, she tried to pull away—

—but a brilliant white light flared first.

Elin shrieked, yanking her arm back.

But it was too late—black smoke curled up from her gloves.

A symptom that only occurred when divine power entered the body of a dark sorcerer.

Cruello burst into laughter, unable to hold back.

Elin stammered in shock.

Meanwhile, Mamic wore the face of someone who had done exactly what was expected.

That wasn’t Mamic’s divine power.

"What? You want me to grab that woman’s hand and use divine power? Are you mocking me? You think it’s funny that I can’t use divine power?"

"No, if I lend it to you, you can use it. It might even help you awaken yours in the future—so it’s to your benefit too."

"Do you think divine power is money? How do you even lend it?"

"Just try it! I’ll use a special spell you won’t see anywhere else."

"Come on, sis! Just try it, I’ll be generous!"

To put it simply—Modification: 9th Order.

Just as mages store mana in their hearts, I had created an organ near Mamic’s heart to hold divine power.

Since it wasn’t naturally occurring, it wasn’t efficient.

A single-use function.

And even then, it was wasteful—more of a purge than actual usage.

But for now, it was enough.

Once this was over, I was hibernating for a year.

"Are you all right, Lady Elin?"

I stepped in front of her, wearing a deeply concerned expression.

"You look terribly pale. Why don’t you remove your gloves? You might not accept divine power, but you should at least receive healing."

"A-ah, no. That won’t be necessary."

"Why? Is there a reason you can’t remove them?"

When our eyes met, I couldn’t help but let my lips curl upward.

Because Elin’s reaction had just confirmed it.

[No matter how I look at it, a granddaughter popping up so suddenly is suspicious.]

And gloves that were never removed.

"I suffered severe burns during an experiment. It would look strange if I only wore one, don’t you think?"

This woman—she was Nigellia.