Cocolia's outing had been kept under wraps; most people still assumed she was at Qlipoth Forth, and the Architects dared not act rashly due to her stern warnings.
This secrecy stemmed not only from political machinations but also from a caution toward the unknown.
Recently, Cocolia had begun to realize that Belobog seemed to have come alive once more. Although describing it this way implied that not too long ago, the city had resembled a place decaying in twilight.
But in truth, this was not far from reality.
As the leader of Belobog, Cocolia could keenly sense the discord emanating from the city.
Belobog of the past was sick, terminally ill, beyond remedy. The atmosphere was perpetually grim and heavy.
But now, the wind danced through the streets, as if determined to blow away the persistent gloom that clung to the hearts of its people, swirling and unceasing.
The citizens, too, were no longer indifferent or detached. In the face of unprecedented crisis, they had quickly come together, offering warmth to each other.
And the source of this shift, the catalyst of this transformation…
Cocolia looked down at the dossier in her hands.
The name written there was none other than Venti.
The document contained not only the regions he frequented and his schedule but also detailed reports on whom he had met and what he had done, down to the smallest detail.
Among the records was an account of him being spotted alongside Bronya on the Outlying Trail.
And just recently, Cocolia had reviewed a request from the technology department regarding the promotion of new equipment.
The timing of this life-saving technology's appearance was too convenient—it was hard not to suspect someone was orchestrating these developments.
When she investigated further, she found undeniable links to the Architect families, without whom such a proposal could never have slipped through all the checks to reach her.
This reminded Cocolia of the signals she had previously dismissed due to her own contempt.
And later, while going over the tech archives—
She discovered that the designer's name field was left blank, but the sponsors were listed as "Venti" and "Serval Landau."
The presence of these names was enough for Cocolia to deduce that Serval had been scheming right under her nose and had succeeded in doing so.
By exploiting Cocolia's disposition, she had manipulated her into viewing Venti as a harmless pet for Bronya—a mere plaything to relieve her daughter's boredom. This perception had prevented her from intervening, allowing them space to maneuver as they pleased.
In hindsight, right after the report on the Outlying Trail sighting, Bronya had openly voiced her discontent to Cocolia.
And from that moment on, Bronya had gradually started ignoring her commands, even acting as though she hadn't seen them at all.
The letters she returned were filled with self-righteous advice.
It was clear now that their bond had not frayed overnight—this was a well-orchestrated betrayal, one that had been in the works for a long time.
It was a vile plot designed to turn her daughter, Bronya, into a weapon against her, an instrument to overthrow the existing regime.
They thought they'd secured Bronya's loyalty, pushing her limits, watching her suffer in the hope of breaking her spirit as a means of revenge.
Those damnable jesters…
If the time was right, Cocolia would have told Bronya the truth about the Stellaron and the pact she had made with it.
Then, everything those conspirators were doing would be pointless. Cocolia believed Bronya would ultimately choose to believe her, to trust the mother who had been by her side all these years.
But she couldn't—she couldn't just yet.
Bronya was still too young, too naive, her perspective limited to the narrow confines of the city walls, leaving her blind to the deceptions around her.
She had never looked beyond Belobog, nor freed herself from the shackles of the Guardian's inheritance.
In this world where the last rays of sunlight fade and darkness spreads, they, the so-called Guardians, are nothing more than kindling destined to burn out eventually.
They were fuel for the fire of public sentiment, stoked to warm the last embers of humanity's spirit.
Cocolia had occupied this seat of power for too long and believed her resolve to be unshakeable. Yet, how laughable it was… that a single, unforeseen variable could throw it all into disarray.
She could still recall the first time the Stellaron's voice had whispered in her ear. Like all those before her, Cocolia had chosen to turn a deaf ear, stubbornly upholding the Architects' ideal of "preservation"...
But that elusive, ever-distant "preservation" had long betrayed the faith of the people.
Despite the conviction spanning generations of Guardians, there hadn't been a single moment of divine mercy.
The great beings beyond the stars had never truly looked down upon the small and humble mortals.
So why cling to this notion of preservation, marching toward a future doomed to destruction?
The people's so-called attempts, efforts, resistance—their faith in the shining beacon of humanity guiding them to a revival—all were futile.
And what had they gained? Only repeated failures, and a gradual loss of their remaining space for survival.
Did she really need to wait until Bronya took on the role of a Guardian for a single street, or perhaps a solitary fortress, to feel regret?
Cocolia could not tolerate such a fate, nor would she allow Bronya to live in such an ugly, pitiful way.
Rather than blinding herself before an inescapable force, Cocolia would embrace it herself, embodying that shared will.
Yes, the Stellaron was indeed real—a presence that bestowed "hope" upon the people.
And even now, it remained willing to deliver miracles—
That promise was as sweet as it was irresistible—something no one in her position could ever refuse.
A world without poverty, without cold, without suffering. A world where people would no longer have to plead like prisoners just to survive. A world where Guardians wouldn't wither away upon the grave of their city.
For these things, Cocolia was willing to sacrifice anything.
From abandoning the Lower City under the guise of a noble cause to forcing the Silvermane Guards to lay down their lives, filling the frontline trenches with bodies.
One by one, she relinquished the things she once held dear, becoming the cold tyrant everyone saw her as. She walked further down this path, with no turning back.
Cocolia convinced herself that her actions were morally wrong, but when it came to saving humanity, to saving the world, she was simply the one who'd awakened first, making the hard but right choice.
All of it was for that brilliant, new world.
Naturally, the weight of such a burden wasn't something Bronya could possibly shoulder right now.
And that was precisely why Cocolia had kept the truth from her. She wanted to spare Bronya the guilt and shame that came from leading, from sacrificing some of their people to secure entry into a new world—a painful, necessary choice for any leader.
Those who were sacrificed did not die in vain. Their lives paved the way, and their rebirth in a better world was surely worth celebrating, wasn't it?
But those who foolishly tried to stop this process, who wanted to drag the world back toward ruin—
Cocolia's grip tightened on the document in her hand, crumpling the page that bore the drawing of Venti, styled in an idol-like illustration by Intelligence Officer Pelageya herself.
"…You are the ones making their sacrifices worthless, turning their lives into senseless loss…dragging even more people into the waves of the old era."
The file wrinkled under her hand, and even Venti's smiling portrait looked distorted, almost as if mocking her.
"I will not forgive you, nor will I allow such villains to sully the purity of the new world."
"You deserve to be swept away with the old era, forgotten and discarded with the ashes."
Under the dim car light, Cocolia's gaze turned darker, colder.
The driver merely blinked in dazed silence, unable to hear Cocolia's muttering. All he knew was that the drive felt faster than usual, and despite the heating, he couldn't shake a chilling tremor from his hands.
Thankfully, the destination was close.
The driver expertly turned the wheel, braking as the car tires screeched against the dry ground.
They stopped before a steel gate towering three men high, where two guards approached the car.
Rolling down the window, the driver revealed Cocolia in the back seat, staring coldly at the guards with a severe expression.
One of the guards seemed new and exclaimed in surprise.
"Gu-Guardian?!"
"Silence! Show respect before the Supreme Guardian!"
The senior guard quickly stopped his comrade's outburst and offered a hasty apology to Cocolia.
"Apologies, ma'am. We hadn't received any notification about the Supreme Guardian's inspection. We'll grant you passage immediately—"
He abandoned any checks, pulling the novice guard aside to operate the gate's mechanism. With the sound of gears turning, the steel doors slowly swung open.
The vehicle moved forward, proceeding into the encampment.
Only then did the rookie, still bewildered, carefully ask his superior, "Uh, sir… isn't this a breach of Commander Bronya's new protocols?"
"Protocols or no protocols, the Supreme Guardian is the law in Belobog."
The senior guard shot him a glance before nonchalantly closing the gate and resuming his post.
The rookie, visibly uncomfortable, hesitated before speaking up again.
"Um…sir, I think I saw something strange."
"…You sure like making trouble for yourself, rookie. Out with it, and then zip it."
The veteran guard, though helmeted, managed to radiate a terrifying impatience.
"Whatever it is, spit it out, then shut up and stand watch."
"Y-Yes! I just… thought I saw something on the Guardian's arm, like… it looked like blue crystal, maybe?"
He paused, indicating his left arm as he described what he'd seen.
"Right about here. It was dark, so maybe I mistook it for Geomarrow crystals…"
The senior guard fell silent for a moment, then replied.
"Those were high-purity Geomarrow crystals. Decorative."
"…Decorative?"
"Forget it. Don't bring it up again, and I'll forget you mentioned it. Understood?"
The veteran's tone was dead serious.
"Yes…yes, sir… but…why?"
"Because you value your life. It's that simple."
With that, the senior guard fell silent, returning to his post with the rigid stillness of a statue in the winter cold.
Intimidated, the rookie clammed up, trying to heed his superior's advice and not think about it. Yet the harder he tried, the more vivid his memory of that eerie, crystalline texture became.
The blue crystals, scaling her arm like shards of eggshell, were they truly mere decorations?
It wasn't as if he'd never seen Geomarrow crystals before—typically, crystals used as power sources were embedded in the armor itself, not directly attached to the body.
Other crystal accessories followed this rule too. Only children drilled holes in stray Geomarrow shards and wore them on strings.
But in that brief moment, he saw nothing of the sort on her. Just those blue crystals clinging to her forearm, curving like scales.
Rather than pristine Geomarrow crystals, they looked more like…
…like the frozen fragments on the Rift monsters' bodies.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, he shuddered, frantically banishing the idea from his head.
He glanced nervously at his senior, who continued standing in silence. His former coldness now seemed like a shield, protecting the rookie from his disturbing realization.
The rookie swallowed his words, standing a bit straighter, while his mentor looked away with a weary sigh.
If even a rookie could sense something was off, how could he not?
But if one wanted to survive here, there were unspoken rules to follow.
And Cocolia, the Supreme Guardian herself, was the greatest of those unspoken rules in Belobog.
---
At the Restricted Zone Center
Inside the command tent, several Silvermane officers exchanged uneasy glances, with Lieutenant Dunn, at the forefront, looking even more guilt-ridden as he gazed at the tent.
No one dared voice an objection. Only a stifling silence permeated the air, weighing heavily on everyone's heart.
Inside, Bronya pressed her lips together, staring at Cocolia, who'd remained silent since entering the tent.
Cocolia stood proudly before Bronya, like a queen of the snowy wasteland, looking down upon her subjects.
Finally, Bronya decided to take the initiative.
"…Guardian. If you have no urgent matters, please return to Qlipoth Fort immediately. Belobog's people can't afford any further risks."
"Risk? What risk? Do you mean the threat of the dragon's attack? The danger of leaving the city undefended? Or perhaps… the chance of me getting ambushed in the Restricted Zone, knocked out, stuffed into a crate, and thrown over a cliff?"
Cocolia's icy purple gaze was unchanging, yet her words were cutting.
"Or maybe… that it's somehow wrong for me to come and ask my beloved daughter why she refuses to come home?"
"…There's no need to use such words to hurt me. This has nothing to do with Sebastian. He's done what he can. My decision to stay is my own."
Bronya shook her head, her expression no longer fearful but resolute.
"Your own decision? To abandon your mother, to stand here and throw your life away with others for nothing?"
"Throwing my life away… for nothing? I cannot stand by and let you say such things! Guardian, take those words back immediately—!"
The silver-haired girl shot up, gripping the table, her eyes burning with indignation.
"That's enough! I was too lenient with you before, but the situation has changed! We can't keep playing house like we used to!"
Cocolia's patience snapped, and she roared in fury.
"If you insist on being stubborn, don't blame me for stripping you of your Silvermane Guard command and dragging you back to Qlipoth Fort myself—!"
In the face of Cocolia's anger, Bronya's expression twisted in grief.
"You… you're a stranger to me. The mother I knew would never treat people's lives so lightly, never force her will on others like a tyrant."
"A… tyrant? You… dare call me a tyrant?"
Cocolia's icy gaze wavered for the first time.
The rage that had simmered in her heart finally boiled over—
She raised her hand and brought it down.
A loud slap echoed through the tent.
Bronya clutched her stinging cheek, staring at Cocolia in disbelief, her gaze filled with a sorrow that could never be erased.
At that moment, Cocolia snapped out of it, staring in shock at her still-raised hand.
She wanted to apologize, to tell her daughter that she hadn't meant to do that, but what actually came out was—
A cold, emotionless command.
"Dry those pathetic tears, and get a hold of yourself!"
The worst thing she could have said in this moment.
---
Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies!
Posture and water check! Remember this is a fan translation!
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