"I still find it incredibly hard to believe."
Uriel said as we walked along the underground corridors of Necropolis, far from the inquisitive eyes of Deathwalkers.
Our footsteps were muffled by the continuous carpet beneath our feet. Thin strips of blue light composed of the Locus codes responsible for maintaining the spatial structure of the Shield ran along the white walls.
Uriel's eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"I've never imagined Lilith to be capable of such cruelty. She was so gentle, nice, and everyone loved her."
I blinked.
"Are we talking about the same Lilith?" I asked. "She was far from gentle when she shoved a rod of pure agony into my body."
"And that's why it puzzles and disturbs me greatly," she replied, glancing at me.
Her fiery eyes searched my face.
"Are you sure about it?"
I met her gaze. "What?"
"Telling Phoebe to accompany Sir Kay to meet the Saintess," she said, nodding in the direction they had gone.
I continued walking.
"Joan O Arc came to my funeral even though we had never met," I said. "She probably did it out of obligation toward a fellow Crown, but she came anyway."
Looking ahead, I continued. "Letting her know that the goddess she reveres is no longer lost… that's the least I could do."
Uriel tilted her head, a small grin appearing on her face.
"That's rather noble of you," she said. "And quite sweet."
I chuckled.
"Never thought I'd hear an Incarnus call me noble."
I glanced at her.
"There's something I've been meaning to ask you."
Her eyebrows perked up with interest. "Oh? What is it?"
"When Lilith betrayed Phoebe," I said evenly, "why didn't the Incarni and the malakhs come to her aid?"
Uriel's smile faded.
A shadow passed over her expression, replaced by quiet guilt.
"That is a fair question," she said softly. "And you deserve to know the answer."
She sighed.
"It's not that we didn't try to help her."
Her gaze lowered briefly.
"We simply couldn't."
"What?" I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Uriel gave me a rueful smile.
"The lumini were everything to Phoebe, and she was very protective of her people. She was not just the Incarnus of Lux. She was also the queen of the lumini."
"And among the Incarni… Phoebe is unmatched when it comes to barriers."
Her fiery eyes flicked toward me knowingly.
"I believe you witnessed her expertise before?"
I nodded immediately, thinking back to the barrier Phoebe deployed over me during her battle with Lilith.
Even when space warped and time fractured around it, the barrier remained intact.
It only failed when Phoebe herself obliterated it with that absurd orbital strike.
Seeing my expression, Uriel nodded. "To protect her people, Phoebe formed a barrier around her realm."
"A barrier that only allows those selected by her to pass through."
Uriel's voice lowered.
"The barrier was so robust that it remained intact even when…" she paused, as if trying to process her next words. "...the betrayal happened."
"The barrier was meant to protect her people from outside threats."
Her lips tightened.
"But when Lilith betrayed her…"
She exhaled slowly.
"That same barrier trapped Phoebe inside with her."
A brief silence stretched between us as a shadow passed over Uriel's face.
"By the time we realized what had happened, it was too late."
She stopped walking.
Her eyes drifted somewhere far away as she remembered.
"Michael himself led an entire host of malakhs, and we were joined by the other Incarni as well."
She looked at me.
"Even the Haema Incarnus."
That caught my attention immediately.
"The Haema Incarnus?" I asked.
Uriel nodded.
"She once tried to kill Phoebe," she said bluntly. "Phoebe barely survived that battle and ended it by driving a spear through that lunatic's throat."
Judging by the way she said it, Uriel clearly was not a huge fan of the Haema Incarnus.
"Even so," she continued, "she still came to help."
Uriel shook her head.
"But it didn't matter."
Her fiery eyes darkened.
"With multiple Incarni, dragons, and the full might of the malakh host…"
She let out a bitter laugh.
"We couldn't even scratch Phoebe's barrier."
Her voice softened.
"Ironically, it was the Haema Incarnus who came up with the most sane suggestion."
"We wait," she said. "Until Phoebe escapes."
"And so I waited," Uriel said, looking at me.
"I waited for millennia."
She looked at me.
"And finally… my teacher escaped, with your help."
I saw her clench her fist and bite her lips in an attempt to stop herself from crying. Her shoulders trembled.
"But she isn't the same Phoebe anymore."
Her voice cracked.
"She's like an empty doll now… hollowed out by time and Lilith's cruelty."
Her body shook, and I felt the surrounding ardor fluctuate dangerously.
"How could she do it?" Uriel whispered through clenched teeth. "How could Lilith be so cruel to her sister? To the one who took her in?"
The temperature in the corridor spiked.
Then Uriel closed her eyes.
She inhaled deeply.
Slowly, the heat faded, and the unstable ardor settled.
"Thank you, Mordred," she said quietly, audible enough for me to hear it.
"Thank you for saving Phoebe. Thank you for giving her a reason to continue existing."
She gave me a tearful smile.
"Thank you for making her selfish."
Her shoulder relaxed, and she added with a faint grin.
"To be honest… when I first sensed the Soul Bond between you and Phoebe, I seriously considered incinerating you."
I blinked and instinctively stepped a little farther away.
"You did?"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"Absolutely."
I chuckled nervously.
"Glad you didn't go through with that."
Uriel laughed. "Sorry about that."
Soon we reached the end of the corridor. The narrow passage opened into the wide central atrium of the underground complex.
Uriel stretched her body with audible pops.
"I should go join Sir Kay in meeting Joan," she said. "It's been a very long time since we last saw each other."
She turned back toward me and gave me a playful wink.
"Good luck with your reunion."
*******
"Reunion?"
I murmured, leaning back into the comfortable cushions of the waiting room sofa.
After saying that, Uriel went to meet the Saintess while I headed to one of the many exclusive waiting rooms in Necropolis.
So that's what I am doing now, waiting for the person who will take me back to Camelot.
Although I do wonder who it could be.
Taking a sip of my coffee, my gaze drifted to the tablet resting on the coffee table before me.
While I wait, I might as well catch up on what I missed over the past year.
With the help of her vast information network, Vanis gathered all the major events that happened while I was gone.
She even charged me double her usual rate, apparently for 'dying' and causing her a great deal of stress.
I frowned.
Shouldn't this information be free?
Isn't that what happens when the protagonist returns from the dead?
I let out a sigh. Thankfully, my finances were untouched for some reason, so I could afford the absurd fee.
Which also means I am currently broke.
Sighing again, I unlocked the tablet and began scrolling through the files.
I must admit, quite a lot can happen in a single year.
The Londonix Butcher case.
The meeting of the Crowns.
The shenanigans between Morgan and Gawain.
The rising popularity of Trinity.
And Elaine's silence.
Then there was the steady rise of House Lefay, particularly Iris Lefay.
The Fairy of Tenebris.
I smiled.
In just two years, she had firmly established herself among both the nobility and the common people.
She had become one of Pantheon's top models and one of the Kingdom's youngest billionaires.
Her cafe business was booming as well, even with only two branches: one in Blackrose Island and the other in Camelot.
My eyes narrowed slightly as my smile widened.
And it seems like the other half of her cafe business is doing quite well.
It wasn't mentioned in the official police reports, but rumors were circulating that the Londonix Butcher case had been solved partly through the help of a vigilante hired by Duke Londonix.
I think I know who that vigilante was.
But that made me think.
The way she's moving right now…
A faint hope flickered in my chest.
Could Iris have regained her memories?
Unfortunately, my hopeful train of thought was interrupted by Minerva's voice coming from the speakers.
"Your escort has arrived."
The door slid open.
Someone stepped into the room with the effortless grace expected of royalty.
For a brief moment, I was genuinely surprised.
But I quickly composed myself.
My lips curled into an amused smile.
"When I first heard that someone from the capital was coming to pick me up from the Shield," I said lazily, "I came up with a list of possible people."
Leaning back slightly, I met her cold, ruby-red eyes.
"You were quite far down the list, Morgan."
The Crown Princess of the Kingdom, Morgan Pendragon, stood in the doorway.
Her wavy raven-black hair, once long, was now cut to her shoulders.
She wore a white sleeveless sweater beneath a crimson coat, paired with black slacks that fit snugly along her long legs and dark boots.
A white winter coat with red accents protected her from the mountain cold, though I could still see faint traces of melting snow clinging to the fabric.
Although with her strand, I doubt she needed the coat at all.
Silver earrings shaped like icicles swayed gently from her ears.
Her face was flawless as ever, the epitome of cold, royal beauty.
But something was different now.
Her expression was not the distant, indifferent mask associated with the Crown Princess.
Her crimson eyes wavered.
Her lips were parted.
She looked as though she were seeing a ghost.
"Mordred," she whispered.
Her voice trembled as she took a step forward.
I stood up, slightly caught off guard.
"Your Highness?"
It happened faster than I expected.
She stepped forward again, and the next second, I found myself pulled into a tight embrace.
This… was not what I had in mind.
My mind struggled to process what was happening.
Her arms wrapped around me with surprising strength, and I felt cold tears soak into the shoulder of my jacket.
"You're alive," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
The words caught in my throat.
The hatred I harbored towards Morgan still lingered deep inside me, but ten years of experiencing hell in the Abyss blew away my burning hatred, along with a good chunk of my sanity.
Now I just feel… nothing.
All that remained was a faint smolder of resentment inherited from the memories of the old Mordred.
But standing here, caught in the desperate embrace of someone clearly crushed by guilt and grief…
I couldn't bring myself to stir those dying embers.
So in the end, I simply wrapped my left arm around her in return.
"Apparently," I said quietly,
"I am."