Tiendavis - For Perfect Salvation (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15
Although she’d gotten what she wanted, Ivy felt thoroughly awful as she stepped out of Rohika’s room.
It was because of Rohika’s unshakable arrogance—treating people like dogs with a gentle voice.
Inside the slowly moving elevator, Ivy recalled the day she first met Rohika.
That was five years ago, in Vis’s prison-like orphanage.
“Hello, little one?”
That day, Rohika had immediately greeted Ivy with a bright smile.
Ivy’s first impression of Rohika was that she was sweet.
Breathtaking beauty enough to make one’s eyes widen, overflowing extravagance despite restraint, and deep, alluring crinkles at the corners of her eyes.
Rohika Sedro’s charm shared the same vein as the dazzling brilliance unique to something venomous.
But back then, Ivy failed to recognize it—and foolishly entrusted herself into Rohika’s hands.
“You’ll take me to Tienda, right?”
“Oh my, why do you think that?”
“Because I sing the best here. I heard from the priestess who visited before that they’re looking for a girl who sings well—that only with such girls can Manyanya purify the water.”
Ivy had answered Rohika, who was grinning, in a low, subdued voice—making her boast about her singing seem hollow.
Yet Rohika didn’t lose interest and asked again.
“Oh? You know well. Ivy, do you want to go to Tienda?”
Rohika already knew Ivy’s name.
Thinking it was because Rohika had just finished talking with the orphanage director, Ivy asked back in a half-resigned tone.
“If I go to Tienda, can I become someone important?”
“Someone important?”
“Someone who can fulfill at least one wish.”
Rohika’s smile deepened, perhaps finding it odd that fifteen-year-old Ivy would say such a thing.
But Ivy paid no mind and continued.
“There’s someone I want to find. But I can’t do it alone—nobody’s helping me. So if I purify the water in Tienda, maybe the world will move just a little for me.”
As she spoke, Ivy stared at Rohika with empty eyes, and Rohika murmured as if intrigued.
“How curious—who’s already stolen this poor child’s heart?”
In hindsight, it was clearly mockery, but back then Ivy didn’t even realize it. She was simply desperate.
“That’s right. If you stay with me, you’ll become very important. So, shall we go together?”
Ivy believed those words. So she took that hand—completely unaware of the hell it would bring.
Even now, Ivy regretted that moment.
Of course, she’d had no real choice back then. Whether she took Rohika’s hand or not, her fate would’ve been the same.
Yet what Ivy regretted was her own naivety in trusting Rohika at the time.
There’s no such thing as something for nothing in this world.
Everything happens only to those who truly deserve it.
So when undeserved, excessive luck comes your way, you should be suspicious.
Because every trap always has bait.
Even then, Ivy had known this—but she let her guard down.
Someone had once told her that kindness occasionally happens without cost.
‘Now that I think of it, I’d completely forgotten.’
While lost in old memories, Ivy suddenly remembered.
The person who had eased her wariness. The one she’d so desperately wanted to find.
After arriving in Tienda, too many things had happened—she’d completely forgotten.
The fortune-teller who’d shown her kindness for the very first time.
The sudden recollection made Ivy’s heart ache faintly.
But the feeling didn’t last long—the elevator doors opened at the tower’s entrance floor, revealing Deis waiting in the hall.
Deis was waiting for Ivy, completely unaware of what Rohika had told him, his expression as relaxed as ever.
Seeing her steward like that, Ivy smiled as if sighing.
The fortune-teller was still someone she was grateful for and missed, but she’d nearly given up on finding him.
Her own situation, bound to the tower, was too urgent to waste time searching for someone whose very survival was unknown.
Besides, right now, taking care of the person beside her mattered more.
“How did the talk go…?”
“It went well. She said I can do whatever I want.”
Answering Deis’s question absentmindedly, Ivy stepped forward.
Then, smiling boldly as usual, she spoke to her friend who shared life and death with her.
“Let’s go to Vis. To do exactly what we want.”
[This is the timeline separator]The sky beyond the valley tore into thousands of pieces with a deafening roar.
Blinding, ear-splitting shockwaves poured down like rain, yet the border sentinels held their formation and endured.
After about thirty minutes, the earth trembled as something crashed down from the sky.
“It’s over.”
At that familiar sensation, Moren Arco, Viscount and deputy commander of the sentinels, glanced at his pocket watch and muttered.
“Amane Ser silenced in one hour and forty-seven minutes by the commander-in-chief’s solo engagement.”
Just as he said, the thunderbolts and roars that had been hammering the world gradually subsided.
This was the easternmost edge of the lower continent Vis—the eastern border where the mad dragon Amane Ser was imprisoned.
The sentinels had just finished a battle to suppress Amane Ser, who had awakened punctually after a month.
Though it was misleading to say the sentinels had fought the battle.
Only the commander-in-chief, Sion Laurel, had engaged in combat.
He fought at the very front—rendering his title of commander-in-chief almost ironic—and, as befitting that title, secured victory without fail.
‘Looks like all their complaints have vanished.’
Moren glanced at the sentinels’ lined-up faces and murmured.
Ever since the commander-in-chief returned from Tienda recently, the sentinels’ mood had been sour.
It was due to the commander’s unilateral decision to treat his border watch duty lightly.
Truthfully, when the commander—who seemed more ghost than human—suddenly announced he’d go to Tienda, everyone wondered what on earth was happening.
Emptiness and apathy were common traits among the Laurel earls throughout history, but Sion Laurel stood out even among them as especially hollow—like a paper doll.
Thus, even to the sentinels who’d guarded the border alongside him for years, he wasn’t a superior or comrade but a distant, wavering mirage.
Moreover, his compulsive habit of lingering on the battlefield even after repelling Amane Ser was so extreme that people joked Amane Ser might be closer to the commander than the deputy commander himself.
Yet this very commander had recently caused an incident in Tienda and returned.
He’d clashed with a priestess candidate of the Manyanya Tower and threatened Tienda’s nobles, staking his duty and mission just to bury that one girl.
Naturally, the sentinels rebelled upon hearing this news.
They were proud soldiers watching over Amane Ser in this mountainous hell for the continent’s peace.
Yet their commander had cheaply tossed aside their pride and mission.
Thus, until just moments ago, the battalion had been brimming with unmistakable resentment.
But that cold atmosphere vanished like fire the moment the commander-in-chief and Amane Ser began their duel.
Because the shockwave from their clash overwhelmed everything.
The ferocious battle, as if heralding the world’s end, was punishment in itself merely to witness.
The merciless onslaught of shockwaves and terror bestowed by a transcendent being reduced humans to insects—and was cruel enough to make one long for death.
Had the sentinels faced that battle directly without the valley separating them, they might have gone mad long ago.
Thus, the sentinels rediscovered a truth they’d momentarily forgotten while nursing their petty pride.
The simple yet absolute truth: Sion Laurel could do anything.
He was the watcher of the east, the dragon’s conqueror, the god of war who alone held back calamity.
Everything in Tiendavis owed its life to Sion Laurel.
So how could such an emperor possibly have taboos?
In the end, the sentinels accepted the commander-in-chief’s unilateral actions and arrogance as his rightful privilege, and Moren Arco agreed with the newly disciplined order.
‘If those complacent nobles finally come to their senses, that’d be a good thing too.’
Moreover, Moren wasn’t particularly worried about the complaints from Tienda’s nobles.
He thought it’d be beneficial if those lazy nobles, like the sentinels, finally realized why Laurel was Laurel.
Still, one thing nagged at his otherwise optimistic mind.
‘Her name was Ivy Ariate, right?’
The Manyanya purifier deeply entangled with the commander-in-chief.
Moren was fine with everything else, but the punishment the commander had given that girl troubled him.
The commander had treated that delicate girl harshly.
At this rate, it was obvious the girl in trouble would resent the commander.
Of course, resentment couldn’t possibly tarnish an emperor.
But what concerned Viscount Moren Arco—an experienced married man—was the unexpected side the indifferent Sion Laurel showed whenever connected to Ivy Ariate.
Moren had seen it while assisting the commander in Tienda.
His gaze, fixed unblinkingly on Ivy Ariate during the banquet at Laurel Castle.
The unfamiliar sight of him fussing over his attire early the next morning to meet the girl.
And even his impatient back as he finally set out after waiting at the tower’s entrance post-purification.
It was terribly presumptuous, but in Moren’s eyes, the commander-in-chief then looked no different from any ordinary twenty-four-year-old youth.
Pretending indifference yet slightly flustered—just like that.
So during the purification ceremony, Moren had even wondered if things were going well between them—what bizarre taste, falling in love with someone so impudent.
But just days later, the commander-in-chief issued a merciless decree, twisting and breaking that girl’s fate—plunging Moren into deeper distress.
Had his young superior truly considered the consequences he’d face from this?
Moren thought probably not.
Because it seemed even the commander himself didn’t realize it.
That every time he was linked to Ivy Ariate, his coldness and boredom subsided as if it were all a lie.
‘Still, no need to say anything unnecessary.’
But Moren decided to pretend he hadn’t seen anything.
He feared offending the commander-in-chief by speaking carelessly, and above all, the commander and that adorably-faced purifier were clearly headed for disaster.
So it was better to let this matter lie.
After all, it seemed unlikely he’d ever get involved with that purifier again.
Satisfied with his conclusion as the border’s deputy commander—tasked with overseeing and aiding the commander-in-chief—Moren ordered the still-waiting sentinels to return.
Amane Ser had already fallen, yet the commander-in-chief would remain at that border for another fifteen days—as he always had for the past seven years.
Thus, leaving behind the commander-in-chief, who loathed company intensely, Moren led the troops back to Tardes Hall, the sentinels’ base.
.
.
.
At the same time, battered and bruised, Sion sat on the blackened, scorched earth, catching his breath.
It was over.
But he hadn’t finished it.
This time, he’d truly meant to cut Amane Ser’s throat—but once again, the border’s monsters had hidden Amane Ser away.
Failing yet again to reach a conclusion today, Sion pressed his palms against his eyes and grumbled.
“Blinding.”
His vision still flashed from the lightning exchanged with Amane Ser.
So Sion kept his eyes closed, and only when the afterimages faded did he slowly rise.
Then, right there, he casually stripped off his honorable commander-in-chief uniform.
The deputy commander and sentinels beyond the valley probably thought Sion would stay at this border for another fifteen days.
They’d assume he refused to be with his subordinates and insisted on continuing his watch—because he hated company so intensely.
It was true Sion disliked company—but he had no intention of staying in such a wretched place.
So Sion, now dressed only in a light shirt after discarding even his grand medals, bit his finger and whistled.
At that, the small dragon that had fled from the lightning flew back to his side.
Leaving his uniform abandoned there, Sion mounted the dragon’s saddle.
‘Let’s go home and rest first.’
Then, instead of flying toward Tardes Hall—the sentinels’ base—he began flying in the opposite direction.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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is this chapter from another story?…… it doesn’t make sense at all…