NOVPUBThe droplets sparkled silver where they landed, their movements as harmonious as they were chaotic.
Even in its wildest thrashing, the sea retained a sense of order and beauty.
"No matter how barren the land, a prince's life is never truly barren," Michael continued.
"The youngest prince grew up arrogant and selfish, pampered by endless support and elite education."
And perhaps… Michael bit back the rest of the thought that rose in his throat.
Perhaps that was always his nature to begin with.
To tell this story properly, Michael would have to reveal where he came from.
But there was no need—and no reason—for that. Whether Radiance was from Earth or not made no real difference.
"You know as well as I do, Drake," Michael began, "when a powerful man is arrogant and selfish, disaster always follows."
Drake nodded silently. That was an eternal truth.
"The youngest prince was no different. His overwhelming power, paired with a petty and narrow mind, caused conflict wherever he went. But he was clever."
Michael let out a long sigh.
He too had fallen into this harsh world from Earth and had gained great power. What would have happened if he had used that power for evil?
No—perhaps it would have been better if he had acted openly and maliciously from the start.
His jaw clenched as he recalled the spreading influence of Radiance throughout the continent of Rubel.
What he had gathered about the Holy Kingdom over time painted a picture beyond horrific.
He couldn't tell whether the wicked served Radiance because he was wicked himself, or if those drawn to him became corrupted by his teachings.
The elites who worshipped Radiance took the last coin from the poor under the name of divine will. They used violence to feed their greed and justified it with holy doctrine.
While high ranking priests preached Radiance's twisted gospel from the altar, schemes and crimes ran rampant behind the sanctuaries.
In the orphanages of the Holy Kingdom, children from all over the continent were sold like goods. Those unfortunate souls were sent to colonies for forced labor or trafficked into brothels—most dying before they turned twenty.
The cruelty of these clergy far exceeded that of even the notoriously brutal Pasha Kingdom.
In the Holy Kingdom, people weren't treated as people.
Villages were burned to the ground for failing to meet donation quotas. Whole families were flogged to death because a young girl stole a piece of temple bread.
More customers came to the temple's altar to buy power than to pray.
The confessional booth became a chamber for secret deals, and the upper echelons of the Papal Palace cared only for their own extravagant lifestyles.
Michael tried to shake the endless images of corruption and cruelty from his mind.
Taking a deep breath, he continued his story.
"The youngest prince—or rather, let's call him Radiance from now on, since that's when he started using that name—began to reinvent himself."
The young Radiance had been arrogant and reckless, but clever enough to know that hiding his true self would gain more trust than revealing it.
Michael shook his head, recalling the more sinister side of the man.
"In time, he stood shoulder to shoulder with the continent's greatest heroes."
What followed was exactly as Miaomiao's grandfather had once told in the cave.
Drake listened silently throughout, sometimes sighing, sometimes grinding his teeth in anger.
By the time the story ended, dawn had begun to break.
"…What an evil man," Drake murmured. "To think I once prayed to him as a god… it's shameful."
Michael gave a soft smile.
"It's Radiance who should be ashamed—not us."
Drake let out a dry chuckle, then looked straight at Michael.
Through the tale, he now understood: Radiance had hidden his true homeland, claimed a vast island nation, and pretended to be a poor man born in the slums.
But one question still remained unanswered.
"And so… why are you trying to find the island where Radiance was born?"
Michael, who had sat for the entire story, finally stood.
His hand moved toward the sacred sword at his waist. He unfastened it and placed it on the table, then spoke.
"It's said that when one pours divine power into this, it reveals the path to truth. Though in reality, mana will do just as well."
Drake's eyes widened in astonishment as he looked at the sword.
He glanced between Michael's face and the blade, his voice trembling.
"This… this is Radiance's sword, isn't it?"
Michael nodded calmly.
"Yes. This will be the key to finding Helena Island."
As if entranced, Drake reached out and touched the hilt.
There were many famed swords in the world, but this was the most legendary of them all.
"Find Helen Island. Unearth Radiance's grave. His power lies there."
And with that power… I will destroy the Holy Kingdom of Radiance.
Drake sensed the unspoken words in Michael's heart and smiled faintly.
With the sacred sword in his hand, he knelt before his lord.
"I will carry out your will, my lord."
At that time, in the Holy Capital of Lania,
Princess Astrid was fully absorbed in national affairs, having been delegated the powers of King Charles V.
Though it hadn't been long since she began her training as the royal successor, Astrid was adapting remarkably well.
Driven by a strong sense of duty, she worked from early morning until late at night. Even her political opponents, upon witnessing her diligence, could only shake their heads in disbelief.
Meanwhile, Charles V remained in recovery, receiving Anita's healing magic—brought by Michael himself.
"How is Father doing today?" Astrid asked as she entered.
Anita, her white hair tied loosely to one side, greeted the princess. The two had grown quite close in recent days.
Anita smiled warmly at the radiant Princess Astrid. 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘱𝘶𝑏.𝑐𝘰𝑚
"Who would've thought I'd one day be standing in a palace, speaking face to face with a princess?"
Astrid gently adjusted her dress and took Anita's hand.
