Then came the news that shattered everything: Prince Baram had renounced the world and entered monastic life. The High Sibyl had merely murmured, "A noble path."
Noble? How could something so noble feel so cruel?
Her first love, once ablaze, slowly faded into embers.
Years passed. As the High Sibyl's health declined, she began receiving oracles in her stead. People whispered of her spiritual clarity, her divine grace. When the High Sibyl finally succumbed to her illness, the other Sibyls unanimously called for her succession. Thus, she became the High Sibyl — and less than a year later, fate struck again.
The new Governor visited the shrine. The moment she saw him, her heart nearly stopped.
His name was Yuaki. He introduced himself as Prince Baram's cousin. He was not quite as radiant — but his features… they were similar. Similar enough to awaken a dormant longing within her.
Not long after, he summoned her privately to the prefectural hall. She went willingly, her footsteps light with anticipation.
But Yuaki was no prince. He was a beast.
Having sensed her affection for his cousin, he offered her wine laced with sedatives — and when she lost consciousness, he violated her. She returned to the shrine broken, consumed by shame.
Yuaki — a vile shadow who had always envied Prince Baram, now stealing his legacy and masquerading in his name. He committed atrocities in secret—a man unworthy of the name.
He bragged drunkenly that he had driven Baram away with his schemes. She hated him with every fiber of her being, but by then, she had already borne his child. She could not bring herself to kill the father of her own daughter…
She should have done it. Not only that, but she should have ended it then.
Because now, that failure had come back to her — in the form of her child's corpse.
When her daughter later entered service at the prefectural hall, she felt a fragile sense of relief. Hiding her child while serving as a Sibyl had been a heavy burden. Watching her daughter grow, her features mirroring her own, filled her with unbearable anxiety. Still… the girl had shown no sign of spiritual power. That, at least, was a small mercy.
When the day came to send her daughter away, she did not weep much.
At least she would be under her father's care… or so she had thought.
But two nights ago, her daughter had appeared in her dream — sobbing, begging to come home.
"I'm under the floor of his office," she had cried.
She awoke drenched in cold sweat. In that moment, she knew: her daughter was gone.
The memory returned then — the first oracle she had ever received, one she had kept hidden from all:
"O maiden who loved the lily blooming beneath starlight…
The flower thou shall hold is no lily, but yero — the poison root.
Forget thy love, I beg of thee.
For thy blinded heart shall sever thy bloodline,
And leave thee nothing but a nameless stone."
For the first time, she cursed her god. If it had truly been her god — why had it spoken more clearly? Why had it cloaked her fate in riddles?
She had thought the oracle was simply foretelling her life as a Sibyl. But now, she hated. She cursed every moment of her life as a Sibyl. She cursed the divine gift that dwelled within her body.
And not long after, she was no longer a Sibyl at all. She had become something else entirely.
A Living Wraith — a creature born of grief, hatred, and forsaken light.
At the entrance of Bolnal Shrine, Governor Yuaki stood with his hands calmly folded behind his back in the camp, where soldiers and mercenaries were stationed in disciplined formation, awaiting orders at a safe distance. With growing impatience, Yuaki offered a gracious smile as he turned to the sheriff.
"Please, sheriff. Time is essential," he continued gently, "Please capture the monster as soon as possible. Kill it if you must — it's because to restore order to Chooshin Prefecture is the top priority."
But the sheriff only shook his head grimly, pointing toward the lifeless bodies strewn near the front yard of the shrine. They were the soldiers who had tried to storm the grounds — only to meet swift and violent ends. Even those who merely stepped past the threshold to retrieve the corpses had not returned alive.
Yuaki could only click his tongue in irritation. He wanted to press harder — but the sheriff could no longer push his men forward.
When the sheriff pleaded again, claiming a lack of manpower, Yuaki ordered him to summon every mercenary available. To most, it already seemed more than enough force had been gathered. So what was this farce for?
What is he really waiting for? Should I just have him removed?
I promoted that fool because he obeyed me without question.
Why is he hesitating now? Could it be…? No, impossible.
This bastard is corrupt to the bone. That's what I always advise Gahn Shingui myself that such a man, riddled with flaws, would be easier to control.
Damn it all, this was infuriating.
His eyes scanned the latest arrivals.
Wait, who were those two? The last of the mercenaries? And that one… two swords? Some show-off.
Yuaki remembered Baram's words: "Even the most skilled warrior needs a decade to master a single weapon."
Hah. This fool would learn soon enough. Ah, finally, it seemed they were ready to move.
The sheriff had begun gathering troops and mercenaries alike, preparing to brief them on a coordinated assault. When Yuaki approached, the sheriff rushed over, urging him to stay back for his own safety.
"Please, Governor! It's too dangerous. You must stay back!"
"I am the Governor of Chooshin," Yuaki waved him off, "I must understand the operation. I'll observe — nothing more."
But inwardly, he was fuming. If only I could just rain down fire arrows and reduce the shrine to ash…
The sheriff tried again, begging — "If anything happens to you, it would incur the wrath of Gahn himself…"
Yuaki resisted the urge to sneer aloud. What a pathetic excuse for a coward!
Then, murmurs rippled through the soldiers and mercenaries — heads turning, eyes widening. Yuaki followed the sheriff toward the commotion. Someone was opening the shrine gate.
What? That show-off with the two swords was walking straight through the shrine's gates and into the courtyard.
Idiot. He'll be dead in moments. Good riddance. At least this idiot is doing something.
Yuaki feigned concern, glancing at the sheriff. The man stood frozen, arm half-extended, mouth agape.
What now? Why? Has he not died yet?
Yuaki turned to follow the Sheriff's gaze. Something seemed to be attacking the show-off, but the man simply swung his golden-glowing sword as if he were out for a stroll.
"What? What's going on?" Yuaki asked.
The sheriff's voice was tight with disbelief. "He's… deflecting the wraith's attacks with his glowing sword. He's neutralizing its strikes effortlessly."