This meant the Trunsoest family, which had seemingly vanished from history after the Fourth Epoch, had not truly been extinguished.
The Night Emperor had foreseen the coming storm and made preparations, striking a deal with the Evernight Goddess to have his descendants sheltered under Concealment, allowing the bloodline to continue under a new identity.
Recalling the founding history of the Will family and the accounts of the several Trunsoest imperial demigods slain by the first Duke of East Tarkey in the family records, Aaron couldn't help but sigh.
Then he froze.
'Could it be that those slain Trunsoest imperial demigods hadn't actually died? Was their "execution" just an act put on for outsiders?'
With prior arrangements, the first Duke of East Tucker, Valna Will—an angel at the time—could have staged such a deception under the cover of Concealment.
If so, the true strength of the current Will family might be far more terrifying than imagined.
'Then again, it's hard to say. Without reaching angel status, remaining at the demigod level—and not even in one of the longevity-focused pathways—it should be impossible to survive over a thousand years. More likely, they've long since turned into Beyonder characteristics or sealed artifacts... unless some other special method was used.'
And then there was the Phantom Empire—the ghost ship said to carry the last remnants of the Trunsoest Empire's legacy.
Aaron's eyes gleamed. 'Perhaps one day, I'll have a chance to claim that unimaginable inheritance.'
Pulling his wandering thoughts back, he steadied himself and opened the prayer chamber door.
Outside, Duke East Tucker paced anxiously, while Archbishop Matthew Adams continuously traced crimson moons over his chest in silent prayer. Yet neither had approached the chamber, as if some force barred them.
When Aaron emerged, the Duke's worry faded, replaced by confusion. He opened his mouth to question, but a glance at the archbishop made him hold his tongue.
Matthew Adams—the white-haired, impeccably groomed elder—now studied Aaron with an odd gaze, as if reappraising the young lord. The scrutiny made Aaron shift uncomfortably.
Clearing his throat, Aaron offered no explanation. Instead, he simply revealed the mark on his left wrist: a dark background studded with stars, cradling a half-crimson moon.
As spirituality flowed into it, the mark glowed faintly, radiating serenity.
Addressing the startled Duke and wide-eyed archbishop, Aaron stated calmly:
"I am now a blessed of the Evernight Goddess."
Among the orthodox Churches, ordinary believers could only receive systematic—and not guaranteed—responses through fixed ritual magic.
Only veteran devotees of decades, the triple-crowned pope, or the handful of blessed could expect direct replies to mere prayers.
From this perspective alone, a blessed's status rivaled that of a diocesan bishop.
Moreover, blessed—favored by their deity—were typically powerful or grew rapidly in strength.
The Duke's lips parted hesitantly, his expression complex.
But the archbishop's doubts seemed to dissolve. Smiling, he traced a crimson moon over his chest.
"Praise the Goddess. Greetings, Lord Aaron—no, Blessed One."
---
The carriage rolled through Ilursil's quiet nighttime streets, its interior as silent as the empty roads. The Duke sat stiffly, eyes closed, while Aaron mirrored his posture—though his mind raced.
'Becoming the Goddess' blessed without warning must have left Father reeling. He's bound to have suspicions.
'But I had no choice. Going to Backlund requires Concealment's protection.
'Being a blessed is advantageous—with divine endorsement, both I and the Will family gain the Evernight Church's support and greater influence.
'Hmm... Father's a demigod and true leadership figure. Does he know about our family's hidden identity?'
His gaze flickered toward the servant kneeling in the carriage corner, but he remained silent.
Taking a sip of the now-cooled Earl Grey, its rich flavor steadied his restless thoughts.
---
West District, Will Family Estate
Servants took the carriage for cleaning while Aaron followed his father to the study.
Inside the first-floor room, the soft click of the closing door triggered faint energy waves—sealing the space.
Aaron's brow rose. 'A spiritual barrier? No, not a temporary one. This study must have been permanently enchanted to isolate it. Convenient—I'll want one like this.'
Sitting across the desk from his still-silent father, Aaron decided to seize the initiative.
"Father, what do you know of the Fourth Epoch Trunsoest family? Did they truly vanish from history?"
The Duke's subtle eyebrow twitch confirmed Aaron's suspicions even before the delayed reply:
"Why ask this now? Did... She mention something?"
"Yes. In the cathedral, I entered the Goddess' divine kingdom and learned many secrets—the apocalypse's timing, Sequence knowledge, historical truths... and our family's real origins."
Aaron blended truth with lies, attributing all his "forbidden" knowledge to divine revelation. No one would dare verify with the Goddess.
The Duke's pupils constricted as he scrutinized his son. Finally, he spoke slowly:
"Then you must know our true lineage. This secret is only revealed to Will family demigods when they meet our ancestor beneath the ancestral spire."
"As my heir, you'd have learned this eventually. I simply never expected..."
His voice trailed off, face caught between pride and unease.