CH 1

1. The Last Prophecy  

-Please… 

The woman sobbed. 

A knife was stuck in her chest. Cold blood flowed down the blade, creating a dark red puddle on the floor. 

It’s too much… 

Someone approached the fallen woman. 

The woman already knew who it was. When she raised her eyes and looked up, it was as bright as facing the sun. Those eyes were too dazzling for a human to look straight into them. 

The woman sobbed weakly, feeling the burning pain in her eyes. 

-Please… Help me. Don’t kill me like this. 

The thin voice was pitiful. Just listening to it, you could feel the desperation in them so clearly it felt like it would burst your eardrums. 

Her thin wrist swayed like a flower stalk and grabbed the hem of the man who’d approached her. 

–Don’t look away from me. I’m your destiny. It’s just that you don’t know it yet. 

The woman’s earnestness did not reach the man. 

The man simply stared at the bleeding woman with a knife stuck in her chest with emotionless eyes. 

– No, this can’t be fate. You are not my destiny. 

The man’s words were cruel. Finally, the woman realized. The man had never loved her. Even if she died in front of his eyes, he wouldn’t change his mind. 

– If that’s all you have to say. 

When the man finished talking, he turned his back and walked away. The back in the distance looked brutal. The indifference that didn’t change until the end, and the cruel outward appearance. The man was brutal from start to finish. 

The woman staggered to her feet. Squeezing out the last remnants of her strength, her body shook steeply.  

–This can’t be… It can’t. 

The disbelief drained the life out of her face. The woman spewed despair with a corpse-like face. 

–You must love me…Because that’s our destiny. 

The woman who finished talking closed her eyes and collapsed. Her confession in the middle of the abandonment left a stain on her pale face, along with a foul smell of blood.  

* * * 

“Ah…” 

That’s where the dream ended. 

Lasilia opened her eyes and let out a silent groan. 

“Lady Lasilia, are you alright?” Plotta asked from the side.  

Right now, Lasilia was travelling in a carriage accompanied by her Dream keeper. She had gotten into the carriage and closed her eyes for a moment, she must have dreamed then. 

“Yes….I’m alright.” 

Lasilia blinked her eyes in cold sweat. Because of her overly vivid dream, reality had yet to caught on. it was as if half of her consciousness was still immersed in that dream. Even now, what she saw wasn’t Plotta, the Dream keeper who was looking at her anxiously, but the terrifyingly indifferent golden eyes. 

The golden eyes were like a blade that pierced into her chest, so Lasilia bit her lips. 

“Did you have a dream?” 

Lasilia was a prophet of the Kingdom of Delarta. God showed the future through Lasilia’s dreams. Lasilia’s dream was sealed on the altar through the testimony of dream keepers and thus became the word of God. 

“I had a dream… but I don’t think it was a prophecy.” 

God’s words were always clear. He showed me what was going to happen, so I was able to cope. A conversation with people whose face I do not recognize, unrelated to the kingdom of Delarta could not be a prophecy.  

“Do you also have dreams that are not predictions?” 

“That’s what it looks like. How long has it been? Is it still far away?” 

Lasilia looked out of the window, trying to suppress her nervousness. Before having the strange dream about a man in gold, Lasilia saw a terrible prophecy that would overthrow the kingdom of Delarta. It was a scene in which the 12th prince Ricardo cut off the king’s head. As soon as she had the dream, Lasilia sealed the dream at the altar and immediately sent a message to the king. 

It was only Plotta she used as a witness. It was such a dangerous prophecy that she was very reticent about it. Before Lasilia lived as a saint, she’d met many people from prince Ricardo. She couldn’t trust anyone.  

But even though it is such an urgent prophecy, there was no response from the royal family. In the end, Lasilia decided to visit the king herself. 

The prophet rarely left the Great Hall herself. Lasilia kept this matter strictly confidential and secretly left Daishinjeon without telling the priests. The only people who knew Lasilia’s whereabouts were Plotta and Daishinjeon’s horseman, who had been a dreamer and her friend since childhood. 

“Have you ever wanted to look into a mirror?” 

Plotta suddenly asked a random question. 

“What…?” 

Lasilia, who was looking at the dim forest path through the window, turned her head and faced Plotta. 

“Why do you ask that?” 

Plotta did not shy away and looked straight into Lasilia’s eyes. Instead of her usual upright posture, Potta was sitting with her toes up and twisted her hair with her index finger. 

“I was always curious. How can you not be curious about how you look? The prophet is a person too, and a woman.” 

“Because looking into the mirror has nothing to do with prophecy. Besides, you help me out with so many things.” 

“Yes, I do. And I hate it so much. If you consider your beauty insignificant, just give it to me.” 

“…Why are you talking like that, Plotta?” 

Plotta, who’d said something really strange, smiled. It was somehow cold, omnious. 

“I’m telling you so that you know. Wouldn’t that make you feel a little less wronged when you die?” 

“Die…” 

What the hell is Plotta talking about? 

Lasilia, who had been raised as a prophet in the temple since she was very young, had no family or friends. It was Plotta who’d taken over those empty spots. So she couldn’t understand what Plotta was saying now. The person who wore such an unfamiliar expression her face didn’t seem to be the Plotta that she had always known. 

“Plotta, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you mad at me? What did I do wrong?” 

Plotta grinned. 

“It’s your fault. All of it, so many times. Lady Lasilia is a prophet while I am just a petty dream keeper. The position of a dream keeper sounds nice, but it is not different from being a servant. Besides, you’ve never even thought of using the powers of a prophet properly, have you?” 

At the next moment, the smile disappeared from Plotta’s face as if it had been washed away. 

“I was desperate for all that. Everything you have.” 

“Plotta…” 

She didn’t know what to say. It was painful to hear Plotta’s true feelings for the first time. The moment she bit her lips,  

(Hi Hi Hi Hi)

Thud, thud! 

Suddenly, the carriage stopped and Lasilia’s body almost collapsed forward. 

“Oh, we must have arrived.” 

Flota changed her expression and rejoiced. Then the carriage door slammed open. 

“What…!” 

Lasilia’s face turned blue. The man who’d opened the carriage was none other than Ricardo. 

“You’re on time, Your Highness.” 

Plotta greeted him with a smile. The fact that she didn’t want to admit struck Lasilia. 

“Plotta, don’t tell me you…”  

Plotta had betrayed her. She’d told Prince Ricardo of how she was running to the royal family without anyone’s knowledge. He must have also been informed of the content of the prophecy. 

“I told you so. It is to make you feel less wronged before you die, after all, it is better than dying without knowing anything, right?” 

Prince Ricardo approached and grabbed Lasilia’s chin. 

“Hello, it is nice to you. Beautiful prophet of Delarta.” 

The force of the grip was strong. It was like her Jawbone was being crushed. 

“Put that hand away…I am the eye and mouth of God.” said Lasilia, concealing her pain. 

“Ah, that God doesn’t seem like a very good god to me.” 

Prince Ricardo smiled a strange smile.  

Plotta and Ricardo, who looked nothing alike, looking like each other’s twins at that moment.  

“I heard you say that I was going to cut off my brother’s neck. The prophet is on her way to tell my brother about it, is it? If he knows that, how do you think things would turn out? At the very least, wouldn’t he take my head off first?” 

“That means God is protecting the kingdom of Delarta….cough.” 

She was suffocating because prince Ricardo tightened his grip to strangle her.  

“Listen, flower-like prophet. It’s up to you right now. Whether you’ll die or live. If you want to live, go back to the temple quietly. And shut up. For the rest of your life. As prophesized, I will strike my brother’s neck and become king. Then I’ll get you out of that haunted-den. If this half-faced prettiness is worth it, I will make you my concubine.” 

On one side of the suffocation and blurry vision, she could see Plotta’s distorted face. 

“It’s useless, Your Highness. Lady Lasilia is a very honest person, so she doesn’t have the flexibility to do that.” 

Prince Ricardo ignored Plotta’s words. 

“Or you die here. Now, what are you gonna do?” 

“……I,” Lasilia kept thinking desperately. she had to get out of this place. So she could inform the king of the prince’s rebellion. But how?  

‘First of all, I have to lie. Pretend to cooperate, wait for the opportunity, and somehow…’ 

Unfortunately, there was no other way to save her life here. Plotta betrayed her, and given the quietness of the temple’s coachman throughout this, the knights brought in by the prince must have killed him, or he was in cahoots with Plotta.  

“……I don’t want to die.” 

Emperor Ricardo laughed when he heard the words Lasilia struggled to say. 

“I guess you too, don’t wish to be an old lady that sells porridge for the rest of your life and die a virgin. Alright then….” 

It was then. 

“It’s a lie.” 

She heard Plotta’s voice and her side suddenly ached. 

“What are you doing!” cried Prince Ricardo. He found that Plotta had stabbed her with a knife.  

“…Gah!”  

I felt the burning pain clearly. Is it because I saw a woman stabbed by a knife in my dream? The boundary between reality and dream seemed to have been blurred. 

“Don’t be fooled, Your Highness. I know what kind of person Lasilia is. She will never cooperate with your Highness. It’s safe to kill her as planned in the first place.” 

Puck! 

There was another tremendous pain in the place where she was stabbed. Flota twisted the knife embedded in her once more. She was definitely willing to make her stop breathing. 

“Plo, ta…you….” 

Lasilia staggered and reached out. But Plotta only looked at Lasilia with cold eyes. In those eyes, she already seemed to be a corpse. 

“Damn it! I can’t help anything if it’s come to this. You can’t be saved anymore.” 

Prince Ricardo drew out the knife from Lasilia’s body, which stumbled and fell sideways. Puck! Blood spilled out uncontrollably. 

“Get off.” 

Ricardo grabbed Plotta’s elbow and pulled her towards the carriage door. Plotta glanced back at the bleeding Lasilia as she followed him down. 

“Hey, Miss Lasilia. Let’s never meet each other again.” 

“Plo…tta…” 

As soon as the prince descended, the carriage door closed. Tang Tang, the prince tapped on the door and gave orders to his knights. 

“Take this and drop it off the cliff. The body of the coachman as well. If it is found, make sure it looks like an accident.”  

“Yes, Your Highness.” 

Oh, no… get up… I have to get up…run and notify the king of…treason. 

Lasilia squeezed the rest of her strength. But all she could with that power was wriggle her finger. 

Du…du…du…DHUP! 

After a while, the carriage loaded with the bodies of Lasilia and the coachman rolled down a remote cliff. 

* * * 

– They’re finally here. 

–Yes, yes. They’re here.  

– So now, you’re doing…right? 

There was a commotion going around. The eyelids reacted first to the noise that filled her ears. Lasilia’s dim eyes opened. The first thing that caught her eye was the bright light. 

“……?” 

It was so bright. Lasilia’s room had never been so bright. Am I dreaming? ……No, I’m dead. She seemed to have died and gone to the kingdom of God. 

Lasilia opened her eyes and looked at the unbelievable scenery around her. Finally, her gaze turned to the window. On the ornate window sill covered with fine carvings and gold leafs, birds she had never seen before were sitting side by side, looking at her. 

Caw. 

Poot, poot. Chirp, chirping. 

“…. Did you talk to me just now?” 

It was strange. Obviously, the birds were chirping, but it sounded like a human voice to her ears. 

“Who’s there?” 

It was then. 

“Your Majesty the Empress, did you call?” 

“……?” 

Lasilia tilted her head. 

The Empress? 

Drumrolls ~ this is Ami, the translator. I impulsively picked up another novel to translate, while the title is cliche yes, it’s only come out recently. Premise is interesting, sort of, so let’s see what the story unfolds together!