OHNIR – Chapter 37
Chapter 37: Prayer
Before Musen could react to Kelusta’s infuriating remarks, the sound of swans splashing in the nearby lake drew their attention.
Some of their snow-white feathers were wet, clinging smoothly to their wings. The sunlight on the lake gilded the outlines of these beautiful creatures with a faint golden light. Due to their pure appearance and elegant posture, white swans had become a symbol of the Goddess of Light. They were treated with the utmost respect in the Nobili Kingdom, and there were even specific laws strictly stipulating that harming a white swan under any non-exceptional circumstances would be considered an act of disrespect toward the Goddess of Light, punishable by severe penalties.
The two by the lakeside both turned their gazes to the flock of swans, quietly admiring the picturesque scene.
However, while Kelusta’s gaze was one of pure appreciation, the emotions in Musen’s eyes were far more complex—a mixture of confusion, resistance, disgust... and even a hint of well-concealed fear.
Silence descended, broken only by the sound of the water and the gentle rustling of leaves. After the tranquil atmosphere had persisted for a long while, it was surprisingly the usually taciturn, black-haired boy who broke the silence first.
“The white swans are beautiful... My history teacher said they are the incarnations of the Goddess of Light, Clara, walking the mortal realm.”
Kelusta was taken aback. She turned to look at him, marveling, “You actually listen in history class? That’s impressive. Don’t you want to sleep during the lectures?”
Musen: “...”
A sudden urge to confide in her made him restrain himself from starting a childish argument with Kelusta. He took a subtle deep breath, forcing himself to calm down before continuing, “It’s a required course with a mandatory exam. Failing it means risking not being able to graduate, so of course I wouldn’t sleep through it. Besides, history books always contain a wealth of useful knowledge. In my opinion, it would be a great shame to waste the precious opportunity to learn from them.”
Sensing Musen's unstable state, Kelusta refrained from her usual sarcasm. She blinked, folded her arms, took a small step forward, and cautiously adopted a listening posture.
“White swans are beautiful, pure, and pristine. Many people love to praise their elegance and beauty with the most exquisite language and poetry... But I can’t seem to truly appreciate just how beautiful these creatures are.”
Musen sighed softly and said in a low voice, “I don’t know why, but even though I’ve never seen the other kind, I just have this feeling for no reason... that black swans must be far more beautiful than white ones. But why do people only praise the latter, while cruelly hunting the former on sight?”
Kelusta’s eyes widened slightly. She stared at the young, black-haired, black-eyed boy before her, pursing her lips. In the end, however, she only sighed, seeming to hold back her words.
The question didn't need an answer from her. It was obvious that Musen, being so well-read in history, knew perfectly well why black swans were hunted so relentlessly.
“Clara and Talebris, the two central figures of the divine era, were often described in legends as ‘a pair of twin swans, one white and one black.’”
A cloud slowly drifted across the sky, instantly obscuring the warm, bright sunlight. The surroundings grew much dimmer. Kelusta frowned and looked toward the lake, feeling that in this light, the flock of swans—whose feathers had been so white they seemed to glow—no longer appeared as sacred and pristine as before.
“The white swan is the symbol of the Goddess of Light, so naturally, the black swan represents Talebris.”
So, why would Musen, who had never seen a black swan, be so certain that they were much more beautiful than white swans?
Because of his bloodline.
The demons were weapons created by the Goddess of Darkness, and her blood flowed through the body of every original one. The more pure-blooded a demon, the more their nature would unconsciously draw them to Talebris, making them reject the light and yearn for the dark. This was why Musen preferred black swans; though he had never seen one, he still staunchly resisted the white swans that symbolized the light.
“I heard you liked spending time in the library when you first enrolled?” Musen suddenly smiled, his eyes dark and profound. Perhaps because the clouds were blocking the sun, Kelusta stared for a long time but couldn't find a single glint of light in his gaze. “Did you happen to read a book called The Cruel Era and Contemporary Demons?”
Kelusta, equipped with the “Sage” achievement, had of course seen it; she had even briefly discussed the book with Gloria. The author's words throughout were a mix of truth and lies. While the descriptions of the culture and customs at the Continent's Edge were mostly nonsense, the chapter title at the very beginning—“Pure-blooded Demons Possess a Natural Affinity for the Goddess of Darkness”—was an undeniable fact.
She never expected, however, that Musen had not only read the book but had also committed its few truths firmly to memory.
This was bad.
Kelusta cursed inwardly. She wished she could travel back to her early days at the academy, when she practically lived in the library, and tear that wretched book to shreds on the spot.
Perhaps it was the constant bullying that had forced him to suppress his negative emotions deep inside; perhaps Kelusta’s gesture of goodwill had finally breached his last line of defense; or perhaps it was the instinctive disgust and confusion that erupted when he faced the white swans that had rapidly catalyzed the black-haired boy’s unstable emotions... In any case, Musen seemed deeply unsettled. Kelusta gritted her teeth, trying to think of a countermeasure, momentarily unable to focus enough to respond.
Sure enough, her silence caused the smile on Musen’s lips to slowly twist into a sneer. A soul-stirring pressure once again gathered in his pitch-black eyes. He stared directly at the brown-haired girl, his gaze so intense that she involuntarily took a step back. Only then did he speak, his voice cold. “Those people who called me a demon... they weren't wrong, were they?”
For some reason, he paused, gazing at the silent girl with her eyes lowered. His tone suddenly softened. Despite his inner turmoil and rage, he called her name in the calmest voice he could manage.
“Answer me, Ruth.” The black-haired boy’s face remained placid, but a hint of madness was gathering in his eyes. A sudden gust of wind swept across the lakeside, startling the swans into flapping their wings and scattering. Willow branches were whipped up into the sky. The wielder of wind magic softly called Kelusta’s nickname, his voice flat, yet it sent a chill down to the very bone. “People say I’m a demon... Is what they say—true?”
The heavy fabric curtains were drawn unusually tight, completely blocking any light from outside. The entire retro-style room was excessively dim, as if shrouded in night. From the soft armchair to the oak grandfather clock with its dull ticking, only vague outlines were visible.
A long silence pervaded the living room. The clock on the wall had swung an untold number of times. It wasn’t until it chimed the hour with a series of dings that the space seemed to startle awake, and the door to a closed room was abruptly pushed open.
Gloria emerged, dressed in a surprisingly formal and luxurious floor-length gown of pure black. The exquisite silk was imprinted with a subtle, cloud-like pattern, and layers of sheer gauze were tied into an intricate floral knot at her waist. She held a slender candlestick with a base that curved up like the bowl of a pipe, in which a thin black candle was set. At that moment, it burned quietly with a strange, eerie green flame.
As the only source of light in the room, the flame did little to illuminate the space. The candle burned, emitting wisps of black smoke that reflected in the silver-haired girl’s deep blue eyes, creating an inexplicably eerie sight.
Gloria’s face was devoid of expression. She stood silently before the study door for a long moment, holding the candle. Then, as if steeling herself, she reached out with her free hand, opened the door, took a deep breath, and finally stepped inside.
The study was also unlit, admitting not a sliver of light. With no windows, it was even darker than the living room.
Gloria’s vision, however, seemed completely unaffected. As if she had performed the action a thousand times, she moved with practiced ease, gently placing the candlestick on the desk. The pipe-like base made a soft click as it touched the wood, a sound that was exceptionally clear in the empty room.
At this movement, the deep green flame seemed to come alive, flickering gently and slowly.
The silver-haired girl gazed quietly at the black candle. After a long moment, she moved. She slowly bent her knees, kneeling before the candlestick. Placing her right hand over her heart, she lowered her eyes in a gesture of reverence.
“...Great goddess, please hear the prayer of your devout believer,” she said softly. “Your faithful follower is answering your summons and hopes to have the honor of meeting you now.”
The moment she finished speaking, the flame leaped excitedly, as if it had drawn nourishment from her words. The black smoke from the candle ceased to dissipate, instead gradually coalescing into a nearly humanoid shadow. Gloria bowed her head, arching her back slightly in a respectful curve, her eyes fixed on her skirt spread out around her like a flower, as if in anticipation.
“—My faithful believer, I am pleased to see you have responded to my summons so promptly.”
The smoke gradually pieced itself into an outline, vaguely resembling the phantom of a long-haired woman. The black candle, which had been burning without shortening, now began to shrink at a visible rate. Simultaneously, the black smoke billowed thicker, and the phantom’s outline began to solidify. However, the study was so dark that it was impossible to discern the specific features of the humanoid figure.
“Oh, it is you, my Gloria,” the black smoke said in an exaggerated, aria-like tone upon recognizing the duke’s daughter. Its voice was filled with a well-feigned, insincere surprise. “Lift your head, child. There is no need for us to adhere to the ancient, rigid etiquette between a goddess and her believer. You may, of course, look directly at me—”
Whether in the divine era of the past or now, a hundred years later, the Goddess of Deceit always favored using sweet words to lull her targets into complacency. Once they let down their guard and served her purpose, she would achieve her goal and then cast them aside without the slightest hesitation.
Gloria obediently raised her head but remained kneeling. “I praise your tolerance and mercy, Goddess Persedoro,” she said respectfully.
The cloud of black smoke—or rather, the remnant of the soul of Persedoro, the Goddess of Deceit—spoke sweetly to Gloria. “Our time is short, my dear, so we must be brief. Your father tells me you have found the tool for contacting the demons on Lady Clara’s territory. In that case, shouldn’t the plan I entrusted to you be set in motion?”
“Yes, Goddess. I have kept your instructions in mind and have been planning this ever since I found the magic mirror,” Gloria said with a gentle smile. “I am now proficient in using the two small, unfinished magic mirrors you granted me. As soon as the envoy to the Demon Realm is confirmed, I can activate the magic mirror at the Holy Light Magic Academy and directly discuss our ‘cooperation’ with the Demon King.”
For some reason, she imbued the ordinary word “cooperation” with a profound, meaningful tone.
“You are always so capable, my child.” Persedoro laughed with satisfaction, her voice as soft and gentle as the hiss of a snake’s venom-coated tongue. “It seems you can handle everything perfectly without any instructions from me. I must say, you are a truly remarkable and clever girl.”
Hearing such lavish praise, Gloria offered a perfect, seemingly sincere smile. “It is my honor.”
Persedoro nodded, greatly satisfied. Gazing at the believer before her—flawless in posture, expression, and phrasing—her eyes shifted, and she asked casually, “Those two small magic mirrors... are they being used by you... and your brother, Wend?”
The question was pointed, but Gloria’s expression remained unchanged. She merely nodded respectfully. “Yes. Had you not been willing to let me test the prototypes first, finding a way to activate the true magic mirror... would have been quite a waste of my time.”
Her seemingly flawless answer effortlessly steered the conversation away from Wend.
“...As it should be, my child.” Persedoro seemed to realize Gloria did not wish to discuss Wend. After a moment’s thought, she decided to humor her and dropped the subject of the mirrors, raising another matter instead. “However... my dear Gloria, I also heard that you recently dealt with the Charles family?”
Gloria stiffened slightly. She lowered her eyes and answered flatly, “Yes.”
“Perhaps their youngest daughter did indeed anger you, but this is a critical time in the search for the Holy Force Source. Gloria, you have always been level-headed. I would hate to see you allow a moment of impulse to let anger cloud your reason,” Persedoro said, her gaze on Gloria, her tone deeply meaningful. “Tell me, my dear, and promise me... you would never abandon a potential ally out of spite, would you?”
“...Of course. I shall heed your teachings, Goddess.”
Gloria bent at the waist, bowing once more to the black smoke rising from the nearly extinguished candle.
“Very well. Time is short, and I must continue to recuperate my soul. Once you have made contact with the Demon King, begin your prayers at once. I will immediately open a divine teleportation circle for you to the Continent’s Edge.”
In the space of those few sentences, the candle had nearly burned out. Just as Persedoro finished her final instructions, the eerie green flame was abruptly extinguished, plunging the study back into absolute darkness.
Within ten seconds, the smoke above the candle had also vanished without a trace.
Gloria rose in silence. With a wave of her hand, the chandelier in the study lit up, bathing the entire room in bright light once more.
The silver-haired noble closed her eyes, finally allowing a hint of fatigue to show on her face now that she was alone. She slowly leaned back against the bench behind the desk, letting herself sink into its soft cushions. A long time passed before her sapphire-blue eyes opened again, filled with lingering wisps of black mist that stained them the color of the deep sea.
“...One can never choose one’s birth, nor can one decide one’s faith. Even knowing the path ahead is dark, for so many reasons, one must still grit their teeth and walk on,” she murmured to herself. “However, a clever pawn, even when trapped in an unstoppable game, will always leave itself an escape route.”
“So no matter what, no matter how terrible the price—I must protect the last... untainted Silentdis.”
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