No one in the room knew what to feel.
The ancient script carved into the Tome of Zephyriax, the one guarded and revered for centuries, was nothing more than a joke.
"Your Highness," Lady Layla asked quietly, her voice heavy with disbelief. "Are you absolutely certain… that's what it says?"
She already knew the answer.
Everyone in that room did.
The Empress had been many things during the expedition, ruthless, terrifying, impossibly strong, but she had never lied.
Ceres gave a single, solemn nod.
Even she could hardly believe what she had read.
The writing was in English.
And not just any English, contemporary, casual, unmistakably modern.
Whoever had written that absurd chant…
They were from Earth.
Just like her.
Had someone else been reincarnated into Solmara too? Was that person still alive?
And if so… did it mean time didn't flow the same between the worlds?
Because whoever wrote that joke had clearly come from the twenty-first century. Expecto Patronum wasn't just some random phrase. It was Harry Potter. A story that hadn't existed in any time before.
So what if, what if, for her, it had only been months since she died on Earth… but in Earth's timeline, centuries had passed?
What if a thousand years had gone by?
What happened to Zeus?
Had he moved on?
Had he lived a long, happy life?
Had he married someone else? Raised children? Fulfilled his dream of having ten noisy kids running around the villa?
The thought made her chest ache, but she would take that reality. She wanted him to be happy. To have lived fully, even without her.
But what if he hadn't?
What if he never moved on?
What if he'd spent the rest of his life grieving her, blaming himself for her death?
What if… what if Zeus had ended his life just to escape the loneliness of missing her?
That thought, that unbearable, horrific thought, shattered her.
Ceres didn't realize the tears had fallen until her vision blurred and her knees buckled under her.
"Empress!" Aurelian rushed forward, catching her before she could collapse.
"Your Highness!" Delphine's voice was filled with worry as she darted forward.
She knew that there was only one person who could break the Empress like this.
But why? Why would she suddenly think of him now?
What connection did a millennia-old joke of a script have to the man she had once loved?
"No…" Ceres sobbed. Her voice cracked as she clutched her chest like it hurt to breathe. "No, anything but that. Please, God. Please…"
Aurelian gently lifted her into his arms and carried her to the nearest couch, sitting with her and holding her tightly.
His arms wrapped around her, protective and trembling.
Legion knelt at her side, his head lowered, hand resting on her knees, to offer silent strength.
In that moment, the two men forgot the rivalry that had burned like wildfire between them.
Because the woman they both cherished, the woman who held their hearts, was breaking.
But not for either of them.
She was breaking for a man neither of them could ever compete.
How are you supposed to compete with a man you don't even know?"
Time passed in silence before Ceres finally began to gather herself.
She shifted, trying to wriggle free from where she sat in Aurelian's lap, his arms still wrapped tightly around her.
"Do you feel better now?" Aurelian asked softly, concern thick in his voice. "If not, we can leave. Let's go back to your palace."
"I'm fine," Ceres replied, taking the handkerchief from him and gently wiping her tear-stained cheeks. Her voice was steady now, refined once again into the Empress they all knew, even if her lashes still clung to the memory of her pain.
Though it clearly pained him, Aurelian slowly released her.
She turned, and this time took the hand Legion offered her. He helped her rise, his grip warm and unwavering.
Ceres exhaled deeply before facing the rest of the room.
"I apologize for that moment," she said, voice calm yet sincere.
"It's alright, Your Highness," Celion answered. "Duke Aurelian is right. If you feel unwell, it would be best to rest for now."
Ceres shook her head gently.
"No. I'm already here. And… I believe I can trust everyone inside this room."
A ripple of quiet affirmation echoed as everyone bowed their heads in solemn unity.
"Of course, Your Highness," they replied as one.
Then her tone shifted, low, firm, and weighted with revelation.
"The message in the monolith… it's for me."
A stunned silence followed.
"For you?" Lady Layla echoed in disbelief.
Ceres nodded.
"It says:
'To Seiryu's New Master
I will see you in a month. Be prepared.
— Third Son of the Demon Lord'"
A collective gasp swept through the chamber.
Even Seiryu, composed and detached as he usually was, looked visibly shaken. His brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"Your Highness…" Baron Aldric finally found his voice. "Are you saying… the one who left the writing in the ancient tome, the one the Church has revered for centuries, was a demon?"
The connection was obvious now.
The script on the monolith matched the one from the Tome of Zephyriax.
And if both messages came from the same hand…
That hand belonged to a demon.
"I can't say for certain," Ceres answered truthfully. "But yes, I had the same thought. If they're not the same person, then this 'Third Son of the Demon Lord' is at least connected to whoever wrote that ancient script."
She turned to the Holy Knight Commanders, her gaze heavy with caution.
She didn't want to entertain the possibility, especially not here, not now. Their faith had already been tested enough. To learn that the sacred scripture they had devoted their lives to protecting was a centuries-old mockery was hard enough.
But in her heart… Ceres had a growing suspicion.
The High Priestess who had deciphered the "holy" script…
The one who mysteriously vanished after claiming her purpose was complete…
She was not a savior.
She may have been an agent of chaos sent by the Demon Lord himself, planted to sow confusion in the heart of the Holy Church.
"Do any of you know the name of the High Priestess who deciphered the text?" Ceres asked, her voice softer now, though no less serious.
"Yes, Your Highness," Sir Deon answered with a respectful nod. "Her name was High Priestess Florence. Florence Nightingale."
There was a beat of silence.
Then, Ceres laughed.
A sharp, stunned breath of disbelief followed by soft, incredulous laughter.
The kind that was too tired to be amused, too bewildered to stay silent.
Florence Nightingale.
That name belonged to one of Earth's most iconic historical figures. A humanitarian. A healer. A scholar. The founder of modern nursing. A woman of compassion and discipline.
And now, apparently… a High Priestess in Solmara who vanished after "fulfilling her purpose" three hundred years ago.
"Oh gods," Ceres murmured.
Everyone in the room tensed.
One moment, she had collapsed in grief.
Now, she was laughing.
It unsettled them more than her tears ever did.
"Empress…" Aurelian stepped forward, his voice low with worry.
Ceres wiped the tears from her eyes, this time from laughter rather than sorrow.
"I'm sorry, Lady Layla," she said, shaking her head. "But I have to tell you the truth. The Holy Church has been the center of a cruel joke for the past three hundred years. Actually, no. Not just the Church. All of humanity."
Gasps and stunned silence followed.
"I can't give you proof. I can't even explain how I know this," she continued, more solemn now. "But that High Priestess… she wasn't an ally. She was an enemy. An infiltrator."
She saw it, the shattering of long-held faith reflected in the eyes of the three Holy Knight Commanders. The tremble of belief being crushed beneath the weight of betrayal.
But there was nothing she could do to soften it.
In truth, she didn't even believe Florence Nightingale was that woman's real name. She wouldn't be surprised if it had been stolen, repurposed from Earth, twisted for a new, darker legacy in Solmara.
Still… she didn't care about the name.
Or about the past.
What mattered now was the present, and the message carved into the monolith.
A child of the Demon Lord had reached out to her.
And if this encounter would grant her what she needed, if meeting him could bring her closer to the Demon Lord himself, then she would take the opportunity without hesitation.
If it brought her one step closer to striking a deal… to raise her HP to 600 so she could finally cast the Dream Spell.
And speak to Zeus.
Especially now, now that she was certain someone like her had reincarnated into this world before… a thousand years ago.
She wouldn't rest until she learned what became of him.
"I'm going to send a reply," Ceres said quietly, already walking toward the monolith.
"Empress."
"Your Highness."
Aurelian and the others spoke at once, concern lacing their voices as they tried to stop her.
"What?" she asked flatly.
"What do you mean what?" Aurelian snapped. "You just said the message came from the Third Son of the Demon Lord. What exactly do you intend to reply with?"
"That I'll be waiting," Ceres said without the slightest hesitation.
"But Your Highness…" Legion struggling to find the right words. He knew her. Knew there would be no changing her mind. But still, this was the first time they were dealing with a creature thought to be myth until two months ago.
A creature that managed to start the Great Human War with just a simple question.
"You all know nothing you say will change my mind," Ceres replied. "Back during the expedition, when we spoke to the Narf Queen Azur, I made it clear that my goal was to speak to the Demon Lord. And now, that path is opening. Why should I walk away from it?"
She turned to face them fully.
"Maybe this will save me from having to travel across kingdoms to awaken the five remaining Holy Beasts. Maybe I won't have to wait years."
They could see it in her eyes.
Her resolve.
Her desperation.
Her hope.
None of them agreed with her plan, but they knew they only had two choices.
Be with her and help her achieve it.
Or stand against her… and watch her do it alone.
"Your Highness." Seiryu's voice cut through the tension as he stepped forward.
Ceres narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you're against this too?"
The Holy Beast smirked, crossing his arms lazily.
"Well… I don't really have a choice, do I?" he said. "I'm bound to you, after all. Whatever you decide, my claws are yours."
Ceres tilted her head, lips twitching at his casual reply.
"But," Seiryu continued, his tone shifting to something more serious, "before you send your message… will you at least hear what I have to say?