“……The task I assigned?”

Dietrich asked the man in the robe.

As he removed his robe, Sir Anderson’s face was revealed.

“It’s done. When I said I saw with my own eyes that Ileon burned down the Grand Temple, people turned their attention immediately. I never expected they’d believe it so readily.”

Dietrich gave a faint, knowing smile.

“To the people, what they need now is a scapegoat to ease their anxiety. How symbolic the figure is doesn’t matter. The more someone who once seemed untouchably high falls, the more comfort they feel.”

It was an ironic situation.

Yet, watching those who once praised Celia now call her a witch with the same mouths—weren’t people truly double-faced?

“Crowds quickly turn their backs when you no longer satisfy their desires. The more unstable the situation, the more they seek someone to place their anxiety upon, rather than relying on others.”

At Dietrich’s words, Sir Anderson let out an “Ah.”

“And besides, since I claimed to have fought with Duke Portman, Ileon’s side might assume it wasn’t me spreading the false rumor about the Grand Temple—it was Balt.”

“……I see.”

Whoosh—

Dietrich gazed at the rain-streaked window.

It had been overcast since morning, and by afternoon, rain poured down as if the sky had torn open.

“How will Duke Portman react? In my estimation, despite their strained relationship, he might still support Ileon, given they’re both among the Three Dukes.”

At Sir Anderson’s remark, Dietrich narrowed his brows.

Balt Portman.

In the current situation, he was the greatest variable.

He had heard they were close, having known each other since childhood. Yet he couldn’t understand at all why Balt had chosen to change his stance.

Balt should have sided with Ileon, even if only to prevent Abelon’s collapse.

But judging from how things were unfolding now, Balt seemed to have completely severed ties with Ileon.

“He’ll inevitably make the first move. Then we’ll know for certain.”

Dietrich was right. That very night, as rain poured heavily, a letter arrived through the palace gatekeeper from Balt’s side.

A short, blunt message: “If you want to crush Ileon, go ahead.” Beneath it was the crimson seal of the Portman Dukedom.

Celia left the palace wearing a black robe. She wanted to see the city’s condition firsthand.

Dietrich didn’t try to stop her. Not that she’d listen even if he did.

Of course, had she truly been in danger, he would’ve stopped her by any means necessary—but thanks to the energy he had infused into her, Celia was now brimming with vitality far beyond before.

Celia looked around the capital’s streets, now eerily empty.

The once-lively city had darkened beyond recognition.

No one walked the streets to sell goods, no customers haggled with merchants, and most shops were completely shut.

Except for the palace knights patrolling under Dietrich’s orders, people were nowhere to be seen.

Celia gazed silently upon the ruined Abelon.

Then, suddenly, a hollow cry from an old man approaching from the opposite side echoed through the air.

“God has abandoned us! He comes to judge this Abelon with the name of destruction!”

The old man’s desperate cry was cut short by the knights.

Even as he was dragged away, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Abelon will perish! Not a single person, not a blade of grass will remain!”

Celia turned the old man’s words over in her mind.

What she was doing was no different from attempting to kill innocent people.

She hated Abelon bitterly, but the people of Abelon themselves were blameless.

Those who pointed fingers and called her a witch did so only because they were ignorant, easily swayed by manipulation.

Was it truly right to kill even such people?

In that case, wasn’t she no different from Ileon, the one who destroyed her kingdom?

Eradicating the great empire of Abelon from the map had long been Celia’s deepest desire.

If she slaughtered all of Abelon’s people, the nation itself would vanish completely, just as she wished.

But was that truly what she wanted?

Would her family, who had passed on before her, want this too?

Celia knew her family, if they were here, would say no.

“Those who possess much should give much to their people. Power isn’t a privilege for the powerful. Those who hold power carry the duty to keep their people safe. A nation whose rulers forget this duty and wield power as they please will surely fall.”

These were the words her father, the late King of Sharn, had taught her.

Her long-sought revenge was now within reach.

So why, only now, did her father’s words return to her?

The reason Celia had brought up the idea of a new nation with Dietrich was also to provide a place for Abelon’s displaced people after its fall.

She no longer wanted others like herself to suffer.

She had killed the old Emperor in a disgustingly crude way.

Thinking back, there must have been better methods.

But time had damaged more than just her body.

On the day her kingdom fell, Celia’s life had completely stopped.

Celia realized she had broken down.

Under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have been surprised if she had taken her own life by now.

Revenge had become her sole purpose and destination in life.

‘Or perhaps, I’d have taken the poison Ileon offered and ended up with a ruined face, like Jeremy.’

Of course, even if her face had been destroyed, she wouldn’t have acted as disgracefully as Jeremy, lashing out at others in anger.

‘Just one step remains ahead…’

Spending time with Dietrich had made her keep thinking about the future.

A better future.

Thinking about a future she had never once imagined before, trapped as she was in the past—this confusion unsettled her.

Lost in thought, Celia continued walking.

Yet, she suddenly stopped, sensing someone following her from behind.

The person behind her also halted.

Celia turned to look over her shoulder.

Seeing a man wearing a robe like her own, a faint smirk slipped through Celia’s lips.

Even under the black robe, his sturdy build couldn’t be hidden.

From his silhouette alone, Celia recognized him instantly.

The one who had been tailing her was none other than Dietrich.

“You… I wondered why you let me leave so easily. You planned to follow me from the start, didn’t you?”

In response, Dietrich’s calm voice came.

“I couldn’t send you into a dangerous situation alone, not knowing what might happen.”

He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, despite having sneaked after her.

“Alone? I’m not alone.”

Celia carefully pulled something out from beneath her robe.

When she opened her hand, a parrot peeked out—its entire body covered in red feathers, except for its yellow chest.

“I came with Popo.”

Dietrich stepped closer, narrowing his eyes at Celia.

“Listen, Celia. Popo can’t protect you in an emergency.”

At Dietrich’s sharp words, Popo shrank back fearfully.

“You just insulted Popo. Can’t you see he’s feeling down?”

“……You’ll drive me mad. Are you saying Popo means more to you than I do?”

“Why compare yourself to an animal? Of course Popo is more precious.”

Dietrich’s face twisted with deep hurt.

He looked so wounded that his expression darkened rapidly.

Seeing him like a pitiful, rain-soaked puppy, Celia’s heart softened.

“Just kidding~ Both are precious to me.”

Celia said with a playful crinkle around her eyes. Dietrich stared at Popo with an indescribable look.

“……Still, I don’t like it. The fact that he’s male, too.”

“Listen, Dietrich. I’ve told you countless times—Popo was your gift to me. If you act this petty, you’ll never be popular with women.”

“That would be troubling. I don’t need anyone else, but if I lost your favor, I’d be truly heartbroken.”

Suddenly, the quiet Popo flew off from Celia’s hand.

He mercilessly pecked at Dietrich’s head—the one who disliked him.

Dietrich, caught off guard by Popo’s sudden attack, wasn’t harmed at all.

After all, having lived in the palace, Dietrich had trained his body to the extreme—ordinary attacks couldn’t faze him.

Instead, Popo’s beak ached, and he flew back to Celia’s hand.

“See? Because you treat Popo badly, this gentle little one pecks your head with his beak.”

Dietrich casually brushed his disheveled hair and looked down at Popo.

Their eyes met, and Popo quickly looked away.

“……Having fun, are you?”

Suddenly, a man’s voice cut in.