Chapter 134
There were two eternal truths in Juliet’s life—truths that would never, ever change.
One: “Muriel is defective goods, nowhere near as beautiful or capable as I am.”
Two: “Therefore, Muriel should always be given less than her share.”
Back when Muriel was married to the Duke of Winterberg and living under constant mistreatment, those truths had stood firm and unshaken.
And when word came that she had been exiled to the contaminated zone, Juliet had thought at last that wretched girl would finally die.
‘A miserable death befitting you, Muriel.’
Muriel’s misfortune delighted her. The more wretched Muriel became, the more blessed Juliet felt her own life to be.
‘I really am lucky.’
The sense of superiority she drew from comparing herself to Muriel fed her pride like rich fertilizer.
Juliet had never once doubted that she was special. Of course she should be the one to marry the Crown Prince and one day become queen.
‘The highest seat in the Roblet Kingdom. That belongs to me.’
And then, one day—
‘Muriel awakened as a Purifier?!’
An utterly unbelievable piece of news reached her ears.
‘Muriel is involved with the Second Prince of the Grastea Empire? How does that make any sense?!’
All at once, Muriel began taking a far better share than Juliet.
It was incomprehensible.
As though the world itself were cheating her.
Worse still, public opinion of Muriel was turning favorable.
“The only Purifier to appear in a thousand years”—no matter where Juliet went, she heard Muriel’s praises sung.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. How could she possibly outshine me? How could someone like Muriel…!’
In Juliet’s memory, Muriel had always been a gloomy, cowed figure.
But in the illustration printed in the weekly gazette, Muriel stood beside the Second Prince, smiling radiantly.
Juliet snatched up the newspaper she had thrown onto the floor and tore it to shreds.
Then she stormed out of her room and went in search of her father, Duke Tierney.
“Father!”
“What is it this time, Juliet?”
Duke Tierney—Willard—faintly furrowed his brow at the sight of his daughter, face flushed with fury.
Juliet, trembling with indignation, poured out her words.
“Have you heard about Muriel? How could she—! How could that half-wit become a member of the imperial family?!”
“Calm yourself, Juliet. This father of yours also thinks the world has gone terribly wrong…”
“You said you’d bring Muriel back into our house and extract her purification ability for our own use! But what is this? Not a single thing has gone according to your plans!”
If they could abuse and exploit Muriel again like before, nothing could be better.
Juliet desperately wished for it. Even knowing it was impossible now, the frustration burned her up inside.
“Muriel—she may be your adopted daughter in name, Father, but in truth she’s nothing more than a slave to our house! A lowborn wretch! A mongrel with uncertain blood—how can someone like that become royalty…?”
Juliet’s words tumbled over each other as she collapsed onto the sofa. She looked almost dazed, unable to accept this reality.
Willard felt a pang of pity at the sight of his daughter.
He cherished his trueborn children—the ones who carried his blood—more than anything. And so his hatred for the Grastea Imperial Family burned all the hotter.
‘Those bastards deserve to die.’
Whenever he thought of how the vicious Second Prince had rendered Kabil incapable of functioning as a man, rage surged through him even in his sleep.
‘Kabil is the only heir who will succeed me!’
To cripple the successor of a noble house! How could such tyranny exist?
As if that weren’t enough, immediately after the Second Prince and Muriel’s engagement, the Emperor had officially declared the Tierney family an enemy.
As a result, communication with neighboring territories—once steady and cordial—had been abruptly severed. Merchants’ visits had dwindled to almost nothing.
It was only thanks to the Roblet Royal Family, with whom they now shared a boat, and a handful of other noble houses that they were still being supported at all.
‘How dare they try to isolate my house and my lands?’
Willard’s clenched fist trembled.
He had long harbored grievances against the Grastea Empire.
Those imperial bastards monopolized magitech engineering and shared only fragments of it with other nations. For centuries upon centuries.
‘Trying to keep all the benefits of magitech for themselves!’
And the imperial bloodline—when it came down to it, weren’t they merely fortunate enough to be born with a trace of dragon’s blood?
Yet they strutted about as if they were the rulers of the entire Altera continent.
‘Damn half-dragons….’
Willard’s eyes blazed with vengeance.
‘Did you really think you could bask in glory for a thousand, ten thousand years?’
The Grastea Empire had reigned as the dictator of the Altera continent for a millennium.
Now it was time to bring it down.
Had he not spent years quietly preparing to usher in a new era?
It was time for the hegemony of Altera to change hands. History was cyclical, after all.
And at the center of that shift would stand the Roblet Royal Family and House Tierney.
“Juliet, do not trouble yourself too much.”
Willard sat beside his daughter, his voice gentle.
“When the Grastea Empire falls, that lowborn Muriel will be finished as well.”
Juliet’s head snapped up at the unexpected words.
“The Grastea Empire… will fall?”
“There is a plan. Just trust this father of yours.”
Was the Grastea Empire the only empire in the world?
Across the southern sea lay Philome, a great power with formidable military strength.
So what if the Philome Empire was a nation of invaders?
Their interests aligned. If they could be used, then he would join hands with them.
‘After all, they said there was only one thing they wanted.’
The Philome Empire had always struggled with food shortages due to its vast contaminated lands.
And with a great desert bordering its territory, arable land was inevitably scarce.
The only key to solving that chronic problem was purification.
‘It’s a shame we won’t be able to use Muriel’s purification ability ourselves….’
But if they could join forces with Philome and bring down the Grastea Empire—
‘And it would serve as fitting revenge against that ungrateful girl, Muriel.’
Just imagining Muriel dragged off to the Philome Empire and subjected to endless suffering filled him with satisfaction.
The people of Philome, who did not worship the Triune Goddess, would not treat Muriel with reverence. They would exploit her until the day she died.
As for Willard himself, his faith in the Triune Goddess was shallow at best.
‘What has any god ever done for me? My fate is something I carved out with my own hands.’
With a cold scoff, he allowed himself to picture his future as the conqueror of Altera.
The image rose before him with startling clarity—so vivid it felt as though that future might materialize at any moment.
The day after the engagement ceremony, Delphinia regained consciousness.
And it was said she had safely taken the Elixir.
‘I need to go see Delphinia right away!’
I was hurriedly getting ready when another urgent message arrived.
This one from the Parakai Church’s Grand Temple.
[We hereby inform you that the coastal dungeon of Vintzheim, in the Roblet Kingdom, has been successfully subjugated.
The said dungeon is to be registered under the ownership of Saintess Muriel, and we formally state that all authority and profits derived from it belong to the Saintess.
We would be grateful if the Saintess could visit the dungeon at her earliest convenience to….]
‘That was fast…!’
It hadn’t even been that long since the Holy Knights were dispatched, and they had already succeeded in subjugating it!
‘As expected of the elite knights whose reputation precedes them….’
There was a reason people called the Holy Knights “the real powerhouses hiding their strength.”
“Kyung?”
The fox tapped my arm with his forepaw, asking what the news was about.
I vigorously ruffled his fluffy head and explained,
“The coastal dungeon in Vintzheim has been cleared.”
“Kyang…!”
“So I guess I need to go take a look….”
Naming the dungeon, deciding how to utilize its resources—all of that was entirely up to me.
If I wished, I could monopolize everything that came out of it.
‘I could open it to adventurers for a hefty fee.’
Or hold an auction and grant access only to a select few adventurer guilds.
Whatever I chose, it was my call.
‘When should I go? Hmm. If I happen to run into Raul around there….’
“I’ll ignore him.”
“Kyeng?”
“I don’t even want to see that man’s face! I only need my fox!”
“…!”
I wrapped both arms around him in a tight hug, and the silly fox went rigid in my embrace.
I rubbed his ears and peppered kisses across his forehead and snout.
“Her Imperial Highness the Crown Princess is waiting in the drawing room.”
A retainer of Delphinia’s guided us once we arrived at the Crown Princess’s palace.
After walking a short distance, we reached the drawing room doors, and the attendant announced respectfully,
“Your Imperial Highness. His Highness the Second Prince and the Saintess have arrived.”
An answer came from inside almost at once.
“Please, come in.”
Delphinia’s voice sounded far more lively than the last time I had heard it.
The doors opened, and I stepped inside, anticipation brimming in my chest.
Had Delphinia truly recovered?
“Welcome, Muriel. …And Your Highness, the Second Prince.”
“…!”
With a healthy flush of rose coloring her cheeks, Delphinia smiled brightly at us.