Bernadette blinked. "You… really do think big."
"Hey — thinking costs nothing. No thinking, no crime."
Vincent wasn't just thinking. He had a clear plan of action in mind:
For the Loen royal family — the Augustus Family specifically — the play was straightforward: make George III's plan public. Expose the secret mausoleum construction, spread word of the Black Emperor ascension plot far and wide, and their goal collapses without needing to be fought.
The Aurora Order existed to bring about the True Creator's descent. That had always been under his and Bernadette's control. Now that Lanevus had been taken by MI9, killing him off and doing nothing else would be sufficient to deny the Aurora Order their result.
The Castilla and Tamara families — who seemed to have smelled danger and were now moving against the Augustus Family — what would happen if they learned George III was attempting to ascend to the Black Emperor?
Once George III was a Black Emperor, even if He had no interest in climbing higher, He certainly wouldn't mind ripping the Seq 1 Beyonder characteristics from those two families and aiming for a one-house-two-gods situation for the Augustus line.
The Castilla and Tamara families would not let that happen. Their very survival was at stake. They would fight.
The Demoness Sect's goal was the Conqueror's characteristic. If someone intercepted that characteristic before it reached them, all of the Demoness Sect's effort amounted to nothing.
The one loose thread was the Psychology Alchemists — their true backer was Zaratul, and his real aim was to push the era toward a continent-wide war. Once the Augustus Family took damage, the Feysac Empire would almost certainly seize the moment and strike.
But the Psychology Alchemists' Backlund representative had already been dealt with. Their next move was unknown, and for now would have to be left aside.
And even without that piece accounted for, if the rest of the plan worked, the Shadow Box would have done its job — Seq 5 only went so far.
After laying all of this out, Bernadette thought quietly for a long while before saying: "Exposing George III's ascension plan — that part isn't particularly difficult. But whether it produces the result you're hoping for is a lot less certain."
After all, they'd already tipped off the Church, and the outcome had been: raised with a flourish, set down without consequence. The Church had quietly let George III off the hook — as though the gods themselves had some higher calculation in play that allowed it.
Which was also what puzzled Vincent — why would George III bother with the Great Smog at all? The Church had already implicitly given him a pass. It seemed completely unnecessary.
"As for your guess that whatever the Demoness Sect is getting from the royal family — something capable of moving the Primordial Demoness — if your read is right, how exactly does my current power level allow me to 'intercept' something that unknown?"
"Remember the evil spirit under the Gloucester family's ancestral tomb?"
Vincent delivered the line he'd long since prepared. "You assessed him as likely a Hunter Pathway Angel at the time — a being who lived through the Tudor Empire era. He almost certainly has deeper knowledge of the Primordial Demoness than anyone else alive. He might be able to give us a direction."
"..."
Bernadette looked at her coffee for a moment, then said flatly:
"Fine."
...
Days later, Bernadette returned to the Gloucester family's ancestral tomb — in the abandoned churchyard near a derelict chapel.
She approached the headstone, snapped her fingers. A cascade of brilliant starlight erupted from the ground beneath it, rushing toward the stone and pouring in, where it vanished.
This was a star-magic seal Bernadette had left behind when she last departed — partly to conceal the vault beneath, and more importantly to alert her instantly if anyone had intruded.
She stepped forward, dissolved into water, and passed through the earth. Then she was back in the dark underground passage, standing before the great bronze door. She produced the blood she'd collected from Stephen last time and scattered it outward.
The blood was absorbed immediately, spreading into a thin layer of dark-red that radiated outward across the entire door, and with a deep, resonant groan it swung open on both sides.
Bernadette raised a hand. Pre-prepared lanterns floated to either side and hung themselves in place, pressing a faint amber glow into the darkness of the burial chamber.
She walked to the far end of the vault, to where the desiccated corpse lay crumpled on the ground, and said without ceremony: "There are some things I'd like to ask you."
The only answer was the hiss of lantern flames.
"Have you already left?"
She murmured it almost to herself — and then the blood-red Spear of Longinus condensed in her hand.
Almost immediately, the slumped corpse gave a series of dull thwap-thwap-thwap sounds and began to drag itself upright, jaw clicking open and shut in a tone of pronounced displeasure: "The young have no manners! You come to ask me something and you greet me with a weapon? You're just like that Roselle was!"
Bernadette retracted the Spear without a flicker of guilt. "I had no way to be sure whether you'd left. Consider it a courtesy announcement."
"Heh."
The corpse gave a dry laugh, folded its arms, and leaned against the wall. "Has it really been that long? Did you collect everything I asked for?"
"No."
"Then why would I answer your questions?"
"Worth a try."
Bernadette settled back, a swing of Beanstalk Vines growing from nowhere to catch her. She looked at the corpse. "Do you know the Demoness Sect's Primordial Demoness?"
"Cheek?"
A flicker of something unexpected crossed the corpse's voice. "Of course I know Her. Why?" Then, slowly: "Heh heh — so our great Tudor Emperor and Cheek… let's just say, their relationship was…" He clicked his tongue. "Complicated."
"Complicated?"
Bernadette was genuinely surprised. "As neighbouring Pathway deities, shouldn't they be natural enemies?"
The corpse let out a wheezing laugh. "I was already dead before Tudor advanced to the Red Priest… but I'd stake what little existence I have left that even after that, the two of them never went at each other's throats."
"Why?"
"Why?" The corpse made a short, contemptuous sound. "Because of that ridiculous thing called love."
Vincent was hit by a wave of genuine shock. Seriously? The Primordial Demoness Cheek and that lunatic who force-switched to the Red Priest — they had that kind of history?
A god and a Seq 1 Angel — beings whose divine nature should have long since drowned out what remained of their humanity. And yet — love?
Then he remembered something. There was a piece of Chinese fandom wisdom about LOTM: "Witches die for love — schemers die for loyalty." At the time he'd assumed it referred purely to Trissy's arc. Now it turned out the tendency ran from the very top down — it was the Primordial Demoness herself who had set the pattern.
And the schemer who had died for loyalty to his emperor — that was the dried corpse before him now. The Red Angel Medici.
The Hunter and Red Priest pathways — neighbouring, adjacent, reflecting each other. They really did have something to them.
"Is that what you wanted to ask me about?"
The corpse — Medici — cracked its withered jaw open in a slow yawn. "Fine, consider that one free of charge. I'm going back to sleep."
"Wait."
Bernadette pressed. "One more question — in your view, is there anything left in this world that could still move the Primordial Demoness?"
Medici squinted. "That's a broad question with no context. I can't answer it."
"Then let me give you context."
Bernadette laid it out concisely: George III's plan to ascend to the Black Emperor, and the cooperation with the Demoness Sect. "Based on my reasoning, whatever George III is offering the Demoness Sect — it's something significant enough to bring the Primordial Demoness to the table."
"Heh heh."
Medici gave a low, unhurried laugh — and, oddly, didn't answer. Instead, he asked something unrelated: "You and that Roselle — what's the relationship?"
"..."
A silence. Then Bernadette answered honestly. "He's my father."
"Well, well…"
Medici murmured it. "No wonder." Then, quietly: "So you're trying to stop this George III from ascending to the Black Emperor."
To be continued…
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