Chapter 51
“Did they die?”
“They might have just died as if by coincidence. But what turned suspicion into certainty was that not only the reporter, but everyone who witnessed the fire that night ended up dead.”
“Everyone?”
“Literally everyone. It’s not easy to investigate inside the Holy Nation, but I managed to send people in under the pretext of the Power of Regeneration. And I found out the truth. Every single witness was dead. And from the day of that fire onward, every night the temple burned incense—the kind used to dispose of corpses.”
Velia focused on the marquis’s words.
“It’s strange, but… what does the artifact theft have to do with the fire?”
“Here, look at this.”
“A chronicle?”
“I put this together myself. Exactly after that artifact incident, the reclusive Holy Nation suddenly began opening diplomatic relations. Not anything grand—just traveling from country to country, holding ceremonies to ‘lend’ the power of God. But look at the order.”
“The order?”
“The fire in the Misty Forest didn’t happen only in our Empire.”
“What?”
“The fire in the Misty Forest was special. It couldn’t be put out with water, and it burned for hours. Accidents just like that happened in other countries too. And whenever such an accident occurred, as if on cue, the Holy Nation would arrive soon after.”
Velia scanned through the chronicle.
“Whenever the Holy Nation visited a country, there was always a fire at least two days prior.”
“Exactly. Those noble priests of the Holy Nation, who hadn’t stepped foot outside their borders in centuries, suddenly acted as if the sky was falling, rushing from one country to the next. Right around the same time the artifacts went missing. And here’s something interesting: after black magic was sealed away from the continent, its techniques were managed by the Magic Tower, but the artifacts themselves were kept by the Holy Nation.”
“Then… Father, are you suggesting…”
“Yes. My guess is that the stolen artifact was a relic of black magic. If the continent ever learned that such a relic went missing under the Holy Nation’s care, they would be condemned. And not just condemned—the privileges they’ve enjoyed all this time, under the guise of managing sinister powers in God’s name, would all be stripped away.”
The marquis sneered.
“Even if they were once pure, the Holy Nation today is rotten to the core. God’s power? They abandoned true virtue long ago. All they care about is how much they can extort from each country.”
“So you believe the fire in the Misty Forest—and all those similar fires across the continent—are connected? Like a chain of arsons?”
“That’s right. To sum it up: ten years ago, when that article was written, an artifact was stolen from the Holy Nation. I believe it was a black magic relic. Whoever stole it has been roaming the continent, setting fires. And the Holy Nation has been following the trail, trying—clumsily—to cover things up.”
The marquis laid out all the documents he had gathered before Velia.
“It’s only a hypothesis, but these are the records I’ve compiled from my investigations across the continent. Once you’ve read them, I think you’ll agree with me.”
Overwhelmed by the flood of new revelations, Velia licked her dry lips.
Seeing his daughter troubled, the marquis sat beside her.
“I’ve never forgotten the incident from eight years ago. I’ve always wanted to find the one who made you like that. I investigated in secret, told no one. But the deeper I dug, the more I felt as though I’d hit a wall.”
“Father…”
“Velia, investigating this is dangerous. The Holy Nation is not righteous. If they think you’re a threat, they won’t let you live. And since the Misty Forest fire, such incidents have vanished from the continent. I don’t know if the Holy Nation managed to retrieve the relic or not. But if they haven’t, then some madman is still wandering free—the same one who scarred you.”
The marquis clasped Velia’s hand tightly.
“I know it’s dangerous, but I told you this because you’ve changed. You’ve already built ties with the Crown Prince and the Tower Master. Even if I said nothing, if you chose to investigate, you could learn much.”
“I’m confused… The fact that I supposedly tried to stab you at eight years old, and now this theory about the Holy Nation…”
“I know. So listen carefully. If you truly want to recover those lost memories from eight years ago, then wait two more years.”
“Two years?”
“When you’re eighteen! I was going to tell you once you awakened, but I’ll say it now. When you awaken the Power of Regeneration, there’s a way to recover your memories.”
The marquis’s eyes gleamed.
“Young Lady, you’re back?”
“You’ve returned, miss.”
“Ah, um…”
Walking absentmindedly toward her room, Velia snapped out of her daze at Tob and Su’s greetings.
“Yes. Go on and rest.”
“Shall I bring you a cup of tea, miss?”
Su looked worried, seeing Velia so drained.
“No, it’s fine. You can go.”
Velia closed the door weakly.
Click.
In the dark room, she slid down against the door and sat on the floor.
“Awakening alone… most abilities have faded over generations. But recovering memories—that much is possible.”
“Is that really possible with the Power of Regeneration?”
“I didn’t explain properly. Awakening isn’t just your hair or eyes changing color. It means inheriting the power engraved in your blood. During that process, lost memories can be recovered instantly.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Velia. When you awaken, the Holy Nation will surely reach out to you. I’ll explain the rest when the time comes, two years from now.”
Strangely, her father’s final words shook her more than all the revelations before.
“In two years, Rene will…”
If the power is inherited through blood, then without bloodline, there can be no awakening.
“Is that why I couldn’t awaken?”
Could it be that the reason she helped kidnap Rene, the reason she stabbed her father, was because she wasn’t truly the marquis’s daughter?
Velia replayed their conversation in her head.
“If, eight years ago, I was with Rene Carlton and Vayne… then Vayne might be the one who stole the artifact. Did he kidnap Rene? But then, what about that illusion? The one that told me to run? Carlton told me to escape… Did he help with Rene’s kidnapping too? No, that can’t be…”
Her head throbbed under the flood of ‘what ifs.’
“Haa…”
Seeing the unwavering conviction in her father’s eyes—believing she was his daughter, believing she would recover her memories in two years—made her sick to her stomach.
Because she had no confidence, no certainty to answer those eyes.
“The Misty Forest.”
Velia recalled the conversation she had overheard half-asleep at the banquet, between Allendo and Carlton.
“Maybe I’ll find the truth there.”
The mansion where it all began eight years ago had burned down. The Misty Forest was all that remained.
Back when she had tried to awaken, she had found no clues at all. Yet now, in this fourth life where she had given up on everything, they appeared one after another.
Carlton. The illusion. The tangled web of events. It was as if fate itself had decreed that in this life, she must reclaim her memories.
“Pathetic.”
Velia let out a faint laugh.
If there truly was a god, this mockery was far too cruel.
“What the hell do you expect me to do?”
She bit the inside of her cheek.
“Should I just die?”
Alone, in the dark and silent room, she whispered the thought that had slipped to the tip of her tongue.
“At least… at least then I wouldn’t be fake…”
“I’m not fake!!”
The cry from her past echoed in her mind.
Velia gave a bitter smile.
“If I really am fake, if I truly am… Rene, then I’ll die. I’ll give your place back to you.”
She looked toward the window.
“Fine. Whatever. I’ll find out.”
There was no turning back now.
Better to know the truth and end it, than to keep suffocating under doubts.
Once she discovered the truth of what happened eight years ago, then she would decide everything.
Velia rubbed her neck and buried her face between her knees.
Summoned by Baron, Rude entered the study, tense.
“You delivered the gift properly, I trust?”
“Ah, well…”
Rude almost blurted that it had broken. But then he realized—if the cold-blooded Baron learned the gift was damaged, he might blame Velia. So Rude shut his mouth.
“Well?”
“No, sir. The young lady was pleased. She said it was beautiful and that she would keep it safe.”
“Is that so?”
Baron nodded, then fixed his gaze firmly on Rude.
“Do you have something you wish to say?”
“…Why do you like Velia?”
