Thanks to all the guards fleeing, the underground corridor was quiet.
Standing alone there, he recalled the Saintess from his memories.
She was a transcendent being who had been difficult to handle even in the previous timeline.
Countless heroes of the Empire had been brainwashed and turned against him.
Today's staunch allies swinging swords at him—it was a maddening situation that kept repeating.
Still, he'd gleaned some valuable information while dealing with her.
Anje was the daughter of a fallen noble house; her parents had been branded traitors and executed.
Afterward, sent to the depths beneath the Holy See, she endured brutal experiments.
In the midst of horrific agony, the only time she could find solace was when reading the scriptures.
Down in that dark underground, she'd read them thousands of times, or so it was said.
That's probably when she came to believe she was the Saintess.
Anje was especially a huge fan of the "Prophet" figure in the scriptures.
He was a steadfast man who received a divine revelation and abandoned his post as Knight Commander.
He met the Saintess and worked with her to save the masses, eventually clashing with the kingdom.
Years of protests and crackdowns followed.
As the people's morale waned, the Saintess asked the Prophet to strike her down.
A self-sacrifice to awaken the masses.
She met a heroic end while watching the kingdom crumble.
The lone surviving Prophet built a new era atop the ruins.
On the surface, it was a perfect tale of toppling a corrupt state.
But in truth, it was a fake scripture fabricated by the Holy See to manipulate her.
They planned to incite her to rally the people and topple the Empire, then easily absorb the nation.
In the end, the Saintess who sparked the revolution alone met her death at his hands.
Not by the Prophet, but by the Empire's Swordmaster, whom she despised so much.
Yet, surprisingly, she hadn't seemed saddened at all.
On the contrary, she'd thanked him for letting her die in a way that mirrored the scriptures.
To the very end, she never escaped the Holy See's clutches.
Screeeeech—.
The spacious solitary cell.
Beneath a ceiling where only a single ray of sunlight pierced through, one woman sat.
Her glasses made her face hard to see.
Still, the faintly visible white hair and red velvet dress...
They exuded a sensuous aura befitting her uniquely striking appearance.
"These aren't the usual faces I see."
"I'm the Warden, Derek. Today, I'm handling the interview myself."
A slender, delicate hand brushed her bangs aside.
Then, opaque red eyes that didn't seem human at all came into view.
"I still can't see your face clearly."
"I can't see yours either. Let's talk from about this distance."
The corners of her mouth curved up, red as her dress.
"Fine. So, what's this about?"
"You committed crimes, so why not just stay quiet? Why keep tormenting our guards?"
"I've never tormented them. I merely reminded them of the sins they've committed up to now."
"If you weren't going to fix it, you shouldn't have meddled."
As he spoke bluntly, her snow-white face tilted curiously.
Most men were automatically charmed by her beauty and showed favor.
This was apparently a novel type of person for her.
"Because I have the power to bring happiness to everyone."
"Power? Isn't it just mental magic and spirit aid?"
He'd expected her to falter at having her essence pierced.
But as one of the great calamities, Anje remained utterly composed.
"Unlike the rumors of you being a wastrel, you have sharp eyes."
He'd thought only he knew her info, but Anje already knew about him too.
Probably from the brainwashed guards.
"But what does it matter what power I use?"
The Saintess slowly rose to her feet.
She spread her palm toward the warm sunlight, savoring the faint warmth.
"As long as that power can save the suffering masses, isn't that enough?"
"Six guards have gone mad or killed themselves approaching you. Is that your idea of salvation?"
"They awakened to their sins and offered themselves to God. I'll lead the survivors to the path of repentance soon enough."
"By killing them all?"
Saintess Anje pointed upward with her finger.
"Those who exploit others for their own greed. Those who sow discord among the masses and make them tear at each other."
Her unfocused red eyes stared straight at him.
Despite being over twenty paces away, with perfect precision.
"Once they're all gone, the world will naturally find peace."
The heroes enthralled by her twisted logic were all naturally brainwashed.
But...
He wasn't a hero or a revolutionary.
"No matter how pretty the face, it's no charm when all that comes out is bullshit."
As a corrupt noble who appreciated a warm back and full belly, he responded with a sneer.
"Not all in power are bad. The world progresses when the capable lead."
"That's why I stepped up—the criteria for selecting the capable has rotted away."
No matter how dismissively he spoke, her voice held no tremor.
If anything, it was gentle, like a kindergarten teacher.
"The Empire's current power holders don't give the people a chance to shine. They hire only sycophants who offer bribes, and those hirelings exploit the masses to recoup their investments."
The Saintess sat by the window and flicked a small pebble with her finger.
Like kicking away a ladder.
"They all deserve to vanish. The newly selected shall rule a new era."
"The ones you pick?"
Saintess Anje smiled faintly.
But it held no innocence.
It was a forced smile, one only someone who'd endured despair could wear.
"At least I'd be better than corrupt rulers. I hear the word of God."
"That's your delusion. Your standards weren't particularly right either."
He stepped a bit closer to her.
With each step, the Saintess's face reflected in her lenses grew clearer.
"Take the recent guards you punished, for example."
"Knights who massacred civilians from another country, right?"
"Yes. But they regretted the battlefield slaughter and defied orders afterward."
"A mere half-hearted reflection doesn't wash away their sins."
He quietly surveyed the dingy, gloomy prison around them.
The places where the demoted guards had stayed.
"Sure, impossible. But we can give them a chance to atone, no?"
He pulled out the guard roster.
It detailed why each had been demoted here.
"By refusing civilian massacres, they created an unspoken rule banning it across the military."
They'd boldly defied even the lord commander's orders.
Becoming thorns in the side, they'd been exiled here.
"They were just lowly soldiers, but their courage saved hundreds of innocent lives."
He glanced down at the meal tray the guards had courageously delivered.
Anje must have gone days without eating, yet she hadn't touched the food.
"So why not give them a chance too?"
Thanks to the cool solitary cell, he picked up a pristine apple.
Its plump flesh resembled her eyes and dress.
"Shouldering everything alone must be tough."
The Saintess, who'd shown no expression to his words until now,
slowly blinked at that final line.
"Are you... worried about me right now?"
"Yeah. The brainwashing spells you're maintaining—they're eating away at your life force the longer they last."
In the previous timeline, when he'd assassinated Anje, her body had been utterly frail.
So much so that even after succeeding, it felt profoundly hollow.
"I'll help. So you can bring about that fair world you want."
Thanks to his Swordmaster instincts, he could faintly sense it.
Her suffering excruciating pain yet still upholding the brainwashing spells.
"..."
The Saintess slowly rose.
The red carpet of her dress swayed lightly around her breathtaking figure.
"A corrupt noble like you... offering to help me..."
The moment Anje took a light step forward,
The distance he'd carefully maintained closed in ridiculously fast.
"I don't trust smooth-talkers like you."
Anje haughtily lifted the glasses from his face.
Her once-blurry features sharpened into clarity.
Skin like white jade, large and beautiful red eyes.
"So I'll check for myself. Your filthy inner self."
The white-haired woman gently caressed his cheek.
Though two years his junior, it felt as warm as a mother's embrace.
Any ordinary man would melt under this beauty and warmth.
But he already knew.
This ecstasy was all top-tier mental magic.
"If you want, take a look."
Yet he felt no fear.
On the contrary, he pulled her slender waist closer.
Close enough to hear each other's breaths.
"My desire to protect this Empire is genuine."
His proactive stance made Anje widen her red eyes further.
And then.
Everything in her vision began to flip upside down.
Into the memories of Derek Minster's childhood.
Incidents from his academy days, bullied as the corrupt noble scion.
A bar fight where commoners beat him half to death over a quarrel—like a film reel.
"As rumored, what a pathetic life."
Recent memories: buying the Warden position.
But not for personal gain—a vow to diligently fulfill the role.
"Grown some maturity with age, at least."
Anje smirked, as if watching a lowly insect's antics.
But.
She soon realized his memories weren't just that.
The Saintess gripped the necklace around her neck tightly.
Her radiant white hair shook violently as she forcibly unleashed powerful mana.
"This boy... not just some ordinary noble?"
If he were a mere wastrel, she wouldn't dig this deep.
But he'd confronted her boldly despite the dead guards.
That piqued her interest.
"Haven't felt this intrigued in ages."
The mental magic barely parted the dark veil.
Finally, the Saintess arrived in the unstable man's deeper memories.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Waaaaaaah—!!!"
The enraged mob toppled the Emperor's statue.
They raged at the sight of a fallen woman in the plaza's center, smashing everything in sight.
Anje knew who that woman was.
And the man holding her, gazing down with a mix of love and hate.
"That's... me?"
Her face in the memory looked more serene than anyone else's.
As if the Saintess had achieved all she desired and ascended.
"Thanks to you, I got what I wanted. Thank you, Derek."
Derek—the new Warden she'd just met.
From peeking at his memories, the diligent type.
And his actions soon...
Perfectly mirrored the figure she so admired and yearned for.
By slaying her, the Saintess, he completed the Empire's fall.
Everything matched the divine record.
"Then... could it be..."
The most agonizing memory was the Saintess's own death.
Confirming that, Anje's pale face flushed red.
"This boy is the future Prophet?"
She covered her mouth with her hand.
Even as a transcendent being through magic, she couldn't hide her excitement.
Forced and unstable as the glimpse was, the ecstatic scene's stars were clearly her and him.