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・・・・・

Constantine's style of ruling was very simple, yet equally clear. He silenced those who were knowledgeable and had an excessive, unnecessary sense of justice by branding them as heretics. For the poor and uneducated, he inspired reverence through food provisions, magnificent temples, and priests and knights of remarkable appearance.

The ignorant praised Constantine’s High Priest for his outward display of benevolence. Intellectuals who knew too much either remained silent, faced mysterious deaths, or fled abroad. Naturally, the place they frequented most was the heretic interrogation chamber. Anyone who entered that place, even once, would instantly regain their lost faith.

Despite the ruthless tyranny, the number of believers continued to grow, reaching extraordinary levels. As a result, they were able to gather funds that surpassed the initial investment, allowing for rapid progress on the new grand temple construction. Constantine's promise to expand his influence in all aspects was realised without the slightest deviation.

It was easy. Almost too easy.

"It brings to mind the saying that, no matter how much we talk about reason, human nature ultimately remains that of a beast."

Constantine muttered, wiping the blood off his sword.

"They don’t even know what they’re being given, yet they eagerly accept it. It feels like raising livestock."

As he drew closer to the seat of honour, red footprints were etched onto the pure white marble like an indelible mark. Behind him, the lifeless body of a knight from the Holy Knight Order, who had urged him to “Please cease your sins and stop here,” slowly grew cold.

Day after day, bloodshed raged in the temple. The High Priest simply watched the unfolding events, with no desire or intention to resist. As Constantine had warned, he knew his place. The High Priest loved peace — not for justice’s sake, but because he wanted his own safety assured. He could only hope that Constantine would solidify his control and bring an end to this endless fighting and conflict.

As a result, even if there were no separate factions, people of similar tendencies naturally came together. And the outcome was as it was now. Disposal.

"Do you think I've gone too far? I follow my own rules and principles, yet everyone seems to think otherwise. Is it because their minds are so weak...?"

Constantine cast a fleeting glance at the lifeless body of his fallen subordinate as if expressing a hint of regret. But he strode forward, unwavering. The High Priest desperately shouted as Constantine quickly approached him.

"I-I don’t know what misunderstanding you have, but I’ve done nothing but stay silent and obey your wishes, Sir!"

"I know."

"...What?"

Constantine had decided it was time to replace the High Priest. This was not out of fear of retaliation or future troubles, but simply because the time had come.

"I’m just following the rules I set."

He believed that no matter how thoroughly one prepared, human affairs could never be perfect from the start. Even this decision had been quite impulsive, influenced by Benjamin's instigation. A few trials and errors were inevitable, and they were just part of the process he would have to go through in the future.

"Thanks to you, I now have a perfect example. Going forward, it would be wise to avoid those who are overly fearful and indecisive."

It was good to behave properly, but that was simply a basic virtue. Next time, he would appoint someone who knew when to keep their words in check and was bold yet taciturn. Constantine continued speaking indifferently as if replacing a faulty part. 

It was unclear whether the High Priest was facing a human being or a monster in human guise.

Though the High Priest’s gaze was locked onto the sword’s gleaming blade, flashing like a streak of lightning, he knew escape was impossible. The divine power contained within it would tear him apart horribly, like the fangs of a monster. Soon, he would share the same fate as the corpses lying scattered on the floor. Realising this, his resignation came quickly. 

In fact, ever since he took the position of High Priest, he had likely known that this moment would come someday — he may have even thought of it every night in the form of nightmares. 

Terrified, he tightly shut his eyes and trembled. He could only hope that Constantine would send him to his end quickly and without pain.

But then, it happened. Like a meteor falling, a pure white flame flashed behind his eyelids, which were shut tight, enveloping him in total darkness.

KABOOM—!

As soon as the sword was drawn, a thunderous roar erupted, so loud that it was a sound unlike anything a sword could make. 

The High Priest only recognised that an overwhelming force had collided. He was thrown from his chair, tumbling across the floor like a leaf in the wind. After coughing and gasping, he barely managed to lift his head. He then rubbed his eyes, which were filled with tears. The shock was so powerful that it sent a cloud of dust rising, and everything around him — the furniture and building — was reduced to rubble.

"Wh-what on earth is this…?"

In a hopeless situation where there was no choice but death, no one in this world could save him. No, there should be no one. Then, what exactly was this situation? 

The High Priest was stunned, but he made a concerted effort to grasp the situation.

As the dust settled, the figures of two people came into view. Constantine, in his bloodstained white armour, still appeared pure and saintly. On the opposite side, a massive man, fully clad in black from head to toe, stood like a withered tree. The unknown energy swirling around him seemed to be absorbing all the darkness in the world.

"Walter!"

Shocked into silence for a moment, Constantine quickly grasped the situation, gritted his teeth and shouted. A single bead of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his sharp jawline.

'Where the hell and how…? Damn it, I didn't notice anything until he got close and pointed a sword at me.'

From the moment Constantine saw Walter on the battlefield, he could intuit what it would feel like to engage him in direct combat. Walter seemed as if he was born solely for the purpose of war. Even Constantine, who had wielded a sword since his youth and dedicated his entire life to mastering the art, doubted he could ever match Walter's level of swordsmanship.

Unlike Constantine, who controlled and released his overflowing divine power to some extent, Walter achieved maximum efficiency with minimal magic, slaughtering his enemies in a way so subtle that one would hardly notice unless they were paying close attention. How could a human possibly control such power?

Moreover, Walter rarely used magic unless he was facing a life-or-death situation. Instead, he subdued and slaughtered his opponents instantly with a monstrous force that no human should be capable of, overwhelming them with his sheer physical strength.

"Argh!"

Constantine roughly deflected Walter’s sword and stepped back. Then he looked at his arm, which was still tingling with a sharp numbness, and gritted his teeth.

He couldn’t understand why Walter had suddenly appeared, but one thing was clear: if he fought Walter, victory was not guaranteed. He might have a chance if he exhausted all his divine power. But in the meantime, someone could be targeting him, and he couldn't predict how things might unfold.

"Who sent you?" 

Constantine fixed his gaze on the imperial guard uniform Walter was wearing and asked. The expected answer came.

“I’m not obligated to answer.”

Walter, being the Emperor’s dog, would have seemingly obeyed the Emperor’s commands. However, Constantine recalled that the figure who had recently been by Lucas’s side was nothing but a puppet. One could say that Walter was looking down on the Emperor and ignoring him to an extent. 

But now, Walter had come in person? Could it be that Benjamin had sent him?

"Step aside."

"If you want me to step aside, you'll have to defeat me first."

“Ha, a loyal dog.”

"Everything I have witnessed will be reported to the Imperial Court."

“What an adorable, loyal dog I am,” Walter replied with a blank expression, leaving it unclear whether he was joking or serious.

"As a knight, I cannot stand by and watch injustice."

He stood there motionless and responded. Constantine, noticing the second sword neatly sheathed at Walter’s waist, felt a surge of rage. 

‘As someone who primarily wields dual swords — are you saying that one sword is enough to fight me?’

He sneered, revealing his twisted inner thoughts without holding back.

“A knight? I didn’t know a lowly mercenary dog could claim to be a knight. The pride and authority of knights must have fallen to the bottom.”

However, no matter how much Constantine insulted him, Walter remained completely unfazed. Unshaken in the slightest. He tilted his head slightly as if surprised by such a remark, before responding expressionlessly.

“No matter how low I may be, I would never be a dog that bites its master.”

“...”

Noticing Constantine’s temporary silence, Walter asked.

“What are you protecting now, Sir Knight?”

A knight's sword was not broken when they bowed and humbled themselves before others. It was broken when they failed to protect their lord with their life. This was the first thing knights would proclaim when speaking of chivalry.

"I heard you've never known defeat. Endless victories make a person complacent."

“I’ve come to bring you despair,” Walter added, pointing the tip of his sword at Constantine.

・・・・・

The news that the Holy Knight Commander, Constantine, had attempted to assassinate the High Priest was relayed to the Emperor immediately.

"While carrying out Your Majesty's orders, I unexpectedly witnessed the scene directly."

“...”

Lucas, speechless for a moment, furrowed his brows before letting out a hollow laugh. It didn't matter that Constantine had tried to assassinate the High Priest. If the person he had appointed didn’t meet his expectations, it was only right to remove them. However, it was a significant issue if the matter wasn’t handled cleanly and it ended up reaching his ears. How poorly had the aftermath been managed for it to have turned out like this?

"In any case... this is why people from the temple are considered a lost cause."

Lucas sneered for a while, likening the secluded temple to a frog in a well. [1]

"So, what did you do?"

After a moment, he leaned in close to Walter and asked, making no effort to hide the anticipation and curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"I could not overlook it, so after ensuring the High Priest’s safety, I imprisoned the Holy Knight in the heretic interrogation chamber located in the basement of the temple.”

Lucas couldn’t help but burst into laughter, clutching his stomach, at Walter’s matter-of-fact response. Wasn’t the heretic interrogation chamber precisely where Constantine had thrown in everyone who opposed him, along with innocent individuals he suspected? Of all places, he had to send him there.

"A sound judgment. For the Holy Knight Commander to dare attempt to assassinate the High Priest, it certainly warrants suspicion of heresy, don’t you think?"

Lucas, who had been laughing and slamming his desk, finally calmed down, feeling a twinge of regret. 

'I wish I had seen that happen.'

In truth, it was Lucas who had first sent Walter to the temple. He wanted to deal a blow to Constantine, with whom he had a hostile relationship, but he couldn’t directly accuse him due to his own involvement in many of Constantine’s actions. Lucas wanted to see the annoying Constantine fall, but he didn’t want to be dragged down with him. 

So, he had sent Walter to uncover a fatal weakness, though he never expected things to unfold so quickly. He never thought Walter would witness Constantine trying to eliminate the High Priest at that precise moment.

If it had been a high-ranking priest, Constantine could have gotten away with saying, 'I was merely following the High Priest's orders to execute those who betray God and serve evil.' But this time, there was no way out. It just had to be the High Priest himself. Even though Constantine was the de facto ruler of the temple, the High Priest was still the official highest authority. No one could release him without any justification.

‘It's like someone planned this timing. It's so perfect, it's almost uncanny.’

It was at that moment when such a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

"See, didn't I tell you? Sir Constantine was raised in the closed environment of the temple, so his methods are bound to be sloppy."

Lucas rolled his red eyes at those words. Count Disroyal, the closest aide to Duke Depallacion, a representative of the aristocratic faction, whispered to him.

"That’s a separate issue from his overwhelming abilities. As Your Majesty is aware, this is a problem that is often attributed to those who become complacent during times of peace.”

Come to think of it, Lucas had sent Walter to the temple based on the Count’s advice, thinking there was nothing to lose. He rested his chin on his hand and silently scrutinised Count Disroyal. They had met a few times at the theatre, bonding over similar tastes in plays. However, Lucas hadn't trusted him at all, nor had he expected anything from him, yet the Count had produced surprising results.

"Did you predict the exact moment when Constantine would move against the High Priest? Impressive."

Lucas was still wary of him, but he spoke with genuine admiration for the Count’s keen intuition.

"How could that be? I simply noticed that Sir Constantine's actions were becoming increasingly bold, and I judged that something would happen soon, so I informed Your Majesty."

The Count rubbed his hands together like a fly and exclaimed, “Rather, it was Your Majesty who accurately predicted the timing and sent your subordinate. You are truly wise and brilliant!” 

Lucas, who had always been thoroughly used and toyed with by Benjamin, found himself surprisingly unbothered by this blatant flattery. A faint, sardonic smile lingered on his lips as he replied.

"So, that's how it is."

"You're truly remarkable, aren't you?"

In truth, it was Walter who had accurately predicted the timing and seized the opportunity to strike. Yet, he simply stood there, watching the absurd farce unfold without refuting it. He then asked Lucas, who was exchanging meaningless words with Count Disroyal.

"What should we do?"

"Bring him before the Divine Trial."

The attempted assassination of the High Priest was a grave crime, so heinous that being sentenced to burn at the stake — the most shameful execution method for a priest — would not have been unwarranted. 

However, the Divine Trial was ultimately just a farce. The judge, fearing repercussions, would act cautiously, and once public opinion had settled, Constantine would likely be released with merely a temporary suspension.

That would be the most appropriate outcome. Lucas found Constantine so irritating and exasperating that he wanted to kill him immediately, but his actual death would cause numerous problems. Constantine was not the type to accept his fate quietly and die alone; he would drag everyone down with him like a drowning man.

'But if he’s imprisoned for a long time, that would be satisfying.'

Duke Lamberg had completely lost interest in Claudia. Moreover, the remaining issue managed to get themself imprisoned without him having to lift a finger. Now that the obstacles were gone, all that was left was to have Claudia to himself. Disregarding Claudia's right to choose, Lucas selfishly envisioned a joyful future with her.

・・・・・

Constantine, the national hero and captain of the Holy Knights, revealed his true colours in his ambition to become the de facto ruler of the temple. Benjamin was completely unaware of this shocking rumour until it began to spread gradually. The reason he was uninformed was that Lucas, who first heard the news through Walter, did not relay the information to him.

The reason was simple. Lucas had used this as a pretext to imprison Constantine in the first place. This meant that Lucas was aware of his own wrongdoing. Benjamin, in turn, couldn’t help but question whether the Emperor had truly lost his sanity. 

Benjamin belatedly went to see Constantine, but when he assured Constantine that he would get him out soon, all Benjamin received was a sarcastic response: 'I suppose so.' Constantine was still suspicious of him. 

"Ha..."

This was a parade of fools. He sat slouched at an angle in the café chair, his face etched with fatigue, releasing a long, weary sigh. He had judged that there was still enough value in using them, but if they didn't move as intended, it was meaningless. If they planned to continue acting like a venomous snake, it might be better to cut them off now, even if it meant taking a loss. Deep down, he wanted to capture both of them alive and feed them to alligators. He wouldn't mind torturing them for days until he was fully satisfied.

Benjamin suppressed his cruel impulses and massaged his throbbing temples. Each time he did, admiration and exclamations erupted from those around him. Despite his heart being darker than coal, his outward appearance was unnecessarily charming, which only added to the tragedy.

Irene watched from a distance, clicking her tongue. How wonderful would it be if people’s true natures were as obvious as their outward appearances?

"You seem to have a lot on your mind."

She drew everyone's attention in an instant as she approached Benjamin and gestured for him to come outside. Ironically, she herself wore an expression that made it seem like she was being dragged to a slaughterhouse. However, contrary to Irene's feelings, Benjamin's violet eyes, which had been filled with mere annoyance, soon began to sparkle with interest. He followed her leisurely and spoke with intrigue.

"I did send a letter, but I didn’t expect you to actually come."

"I didn’t think you’d doubt me after threatening me. You make me want to punch you as soon as I see you."

At those words, Benjamin let out a small, derisive snort and carefully examined Irene. Seeing her express her anger so openly gave him an odd sense of satisfaction. He narrowed his eyes and said:

"As I thought, it's a doll."

"How do you know that?"

As previously mentioned, Benjamin, unlike Constantine, did not have the skill to distinguish between the real and the fake. He just had exceptionally good intuition.

"Lady Amber is always thoroughly prepared, so it is unlikely that she would come herself from the beginning."

"I'll give you credit for your cleverness."

"So, is it the real one? Or the fake one?"

"Does that hold any meaning for you? I thought you preferred dolls."

"You're quite sharp-tongued. Well... it might hold meaning if it's Lady Amber."

As Benjamin uttered those words without batting an eye, goosebumps rose on every inch of Irene's exposed skin. Judging by her reaction, it seemed she must be the real one. But then again, it was said that the spirit could accurately replicate even personality and tendencies.

‘Why am I even bothered by this?’

Whether real or fake, today's conversation would be conveyed to the real person. Benjamin's objective was to inform her of his intentions, so while it would be unpleasant if it were a fake, it ultimately didn't matter. He found himself puzzled by his own fixation on trivial matters and paused to think. 

Irene, who had been quietly watching Benjamin, asked with an expression as if she were swallowing poison,

"Do you really have feelings for me?"

Feelings for her? The straightforward question momentarily stunned Benjamin. Feelings? 

Certainly, Irene was not a bad match for him, except for being overly hostile. He had found her likable for quite some time, appreciated her ability to attract people to her side, and even thought she was cute. 

So, he could have casually acknowledged it, but why did he hesitate as if he had been caught off guard? 

Benjamin found his own reaction baffling but quickly put on a mask-like smile and replied.

"That could be possible."

“...Really?"

Irene looked at him with an expression that said, 'No, why are you agreeing to that?' She seemed to hope that he would correct himself, saying it was just a terrible joke.

"It appears your feelings for Claudia have cooled down. You acted like it was a love that would last a thousand years. If that's how easily your feelings withered, then why on earth..."

‘Why on earth did you do such a cruel thing to Felix? How do you plan to compensate for the time he lost?’ 

Irene couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, afraid Benjamin might catch on. She gritted her teeth, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Because it was fun. Because he wanted to experiment. To him, this was all just a game.

"And now it just had to be me?"

Irene repeated the question as if seeking confirmation. She seemed ready to keep asking until Benjamin said 'No.' The more Irene reacted this way, the more Benjamin found it amusing, and he decided to drive the point home.

"That's correct."

"Wow..."

When he readily agreed, Irene's face contorted, and at the same time, she burst into genuine amazement.

"I thought my feelings couldn't get any worse when I saw your face, but it turns out there's a new low. You're truly the worst."

"As always, you don't mince your words. Even though I have feelings for you, you don't plan on using that to your advantage?"

Benjamin added, “You can definitely do it!” 

He highly valued Irene's abilities. But he was always genuinely puzzled by how she openly showed her hostility instead of being more cunning.

"It seems you never get tired of always being sincere with others. You're always sincere with me too."

By being so honest and showing her teeth, she only made herself more vulnerable to being figured out and guarded against. She wasn't stupid, so she could act more strategically, behaving a little more gently and wisely depending on the situation.

"Who knows? If you act sweetly, even if it's just an act, my lady might get what you want from me."

Benjamin encouraged her to adopt his own way of treating others and habitually put a cigarette in his mouth. He was about to light it with the ring when Irene instinctively frowned. He paused, holding the unlit cigarette between his lips and tilting it meaninglessly.

"I'm saying you should take advantage of my feelings for you. Even if I become suspicious of you suddenly being friendly, I won't be able to push you away."

Irene couldn't understand why Benjamin was saying this and looked at him with a guarded expression.

"Eventually, there will surely come a time when one lets their guard down and becomes careless."

“If you exploit that gap, humans become completely powerless.” 

Benjamin finished his words and carelessly placed the cigarette he had been holding onto Irene's palm as if handing her his leash.

"Humans are creatures of emotion. I am human as well, so that is true for me too."

"I didn't think Your Excellency had emotions."

At Irene's tone, which implied she truly didn't think he was human, Benjamin chuckled.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be in this position."

He wasn’t devoid of emotions. He simply couldn’t empathise with others’ feelings and used them ruthlessly, without any guilt. Irene stared up at Benjamin, scoffed briefly, and muttered to herself.

"So, that's why you can confidently admit to having feelings for me, even though I make no effort to hide my disdain for you."

Because other people's feelings didn’t matter to him. They held no meaning and didn’t even stir any emotions in him. Even if those feelings had belonged to someone he had affection for.

How was it possible that, after dealing with Claudia's case, he still repeated the same actions without any progress? No matter how much it was said that people couldn’t be reformed, this was to the point where it seemed like he had no capacity to learn.

Irene slowly parted her lips.

"You once said that if you possessed the body, the heart would follow.”

"If you're determined to keep being stubborn, then there's nothing I can do either."

"Didn't you say you would use your own method, Your Excellency? If I don't accept your current proposal, it sounds like you're threatening to commit a crime."

"Let’s call it a coercive tactic."

"You're still great at glorifying crimes and rationalising your actions."

It was still a hopeless case of pushing forward strange desires under the guise of love. 

That was why it was truly fortunate. Because it was consistent. On the contrary, if he had suddenly pretended to repent and talked about atoning for his sins, she would have been disappointed.

It was so Benjamin-like, completely free of even a trace of guilt towards the devil Larry. It was a clean and pure colour of anger, without any unnecessary emotions mixed in.

‘Seeing that he's making such a proposal to me, he must really resent Lucas and Constantine. It seems like he's getting tired of them and wants to cast them aside and move on.’

Irene fell into thought. If Benjamin had no lingering feelings for Claudia and his goal was simply to possess her, then he had no reason to stay with them anymore. 

But Benjamin was a man of great greed. 

He not only wanted what he already held, but he also diligently collected what Lucas and Constantine had discarded, and he likely desired Irene as a bonus. 

Not satisfied with ruling the underworld, the city of chaos, Carlisle; he had also manipulated the Emperor with a flick of his finger, controlling the entire empire as he pleased. 

They say that once you tasted power, you could never let go of it.

Benjamin’s ambition wasn’t something that could be satisfied by simply having Irene.

‘I can assure you, you can definitely come up with a better way.’

Irene studied him with a calm gaze, then put on a fake smile, just as he wanted.

"What do you know? How much have you found out? That’s what I came here to ask you today.”

She twirled the cigarette Benjamin had forced into her hand between her fingers as she questioned.

“...Quite a lot of things."

Then Benjamin fell silent for a moment before giving an ambiguous answer. Irene could tell just from that response that he had figured out almost everything through Shayne Speare and Mozzarella.

"Are you proposing a deal?"

"If you wish, I can give you a grace period."

"No, Your Excellency, you may inform His Majesty directly if you wish. Even about Silentium."

Benjamin hadn’t expected Irene to bring up that group herself, so he showed a rare sign of surprise. As he parted his red lips to say something, Irene stood on tiptoe and placed the cigarette between his lips, as if telling him to bite it and shut up.

“...”

Seeing this, Benjamin seemed to decide to stop his uncharacteristic behaviour. He struck a spark with his ring to light the cigarette, then skillfully drew from it, letting smoke escape with each breath.

"A refusal. I didn't expect you to be so unwilling to compromise."

Well, that was because she had no intention of being swayed by him. Since he revealed his own weakness, he might have thought he could wield power over her, but that wasn't the case.

"Holding me against my will won't do you any good."

Irene declared coldly, her expression hardening as if she had never smiled. 

If they couldn’t have something, it was in their nature to burn with desire even more.

Irene had no intention of being friendly to Benjamin, even as a pretence. Just imagining it made her feel nauseous, and there was absolutely no need for it.

"Even if one day I suddenly receive a great shock to my head and find a day when I could forgive you, I will never have feelings for you."

"You can't be certain about that."

"No, I'm certain. You have a rival to compete with."

"Claudia?"

 "Of course, she's formidable as well.”

At that moment, Irene remembered Claudia's cute jealousy and couldn't help but laugh aloud. The corner of her eyes crinkled and clear dimples appeared on her soft cheeks. It was a smile as soft as whipped cream and incredibly sweet. Benjamin couldn't take his eyes off Irene as he traced through his memory.

‘That expression, where have I seen it before?’

Of course, he had seen it from afar many times. She laughed so happily, to the point of being carefree, towards those she allowed into her circle. 

Irene looked up at Benjamin, who remained silent, the cigarette between his fingers, seemingly unaware that its end was still burning.

Then, as if perplexed, she tilted her head. 

He couldn’t understand where her confidence was coming from. 

"How can you win against the person you killed yourself?"

“...”

A person who was already dead and no longer existed in the world, someone he personally sentenced to death. When faced with the question of whether he could defeat such a person as a rival, Benjamin could no longer smile. 

He had described it as nothing more than a simple crush for now. The skill with which he had thoroughly crushed even the mention of feelings, let alone a confession, was nothing short of extraordinary.

"What I loved was his soul, and I will continue to cherish it, along with the memories, within me forever."

He watched Irene turn her back and leave in silence, taking in the sight with his eyes. Then, he remembered where he had seen that smile before — a smile so striking it almost made his tongue tingle just from looking at it.

It was when Irene, accompanied by Felix Chamberlain, visited his mansion. At that time, she had spoken words that were as straightforward as could be, and then left, holding Felix's hand tightly, smiling brightly like a child playing house, without a care in the world.

"Holding me against my will won't do you any good."

Benjamin recalled the words Irene had left behind. He suddenly noticed the cigarette, burned down to the filter, and muttered as he crushed it.

“...It’s dangerous."

Translator's Corner:

[1] The idiom "a frog in a well" is used to describe someone who cannot or refuses to see the big picture because of being sheltered and close-minded.

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