The Pantheon—
Though once known as the temple of all gods, the name no longer applied. Now, only symbols of Christianity remained within. All else had been purged.
For in the Roman Empire of today, Christianity was the only legal religion—everything else deemed pagan heresy.
It was here that Novia was to perform Christ's blessing upon Nero during his coronation. Nero had wanted to build a new chapel for the event, but there simply wasn't enough time, so the Pantheon had to do for now.
To mark the occasion, the hall had been decorated in advance with seasonal flowers and ornaments representing the four seasons. The dominant theme was white. Through the arched windows, one could glimpse the crowds gathering across the city of Rome. This was the final stage of the ceremony, and Novia quietly waited for Nero's arrival.
"That human is just so full of herself, strutting around like some all-important queen."
Albion, in the form of a silver-haired girl, leaned her chin in her palm and pouted in annoyance as she gazed out the window. She usually only appeared when alone with Novia. If there were any outsiders around, she'd retreat immediately.
"Well, it is a big day for Nero. It's normal for her to be excited."
"Hey. Did I give you permission to mention your little disciple's name without consulting me?"
The silver-haired girl turned her head toward Novia with a glare, then looked back outside.
"...Since when did we make that kind of rule?"
"We didn't. I was just thinking—back then, I should've taken you for the weak little human magus you were and just killed and eaten you."
Albion twisted around again, eyeing Novia from head to toe, a flash of blood-red glinting in her golden eyes.
"Maybe you should try saying that to me in a different form. Because like this, it's... weirdly confusing."
Novia bent down, getting close to Albion's face, peering into her gleaming golden irises.
But she didn't flinch. She simply stared back, unwavering.
Then, between her brows—right between those intense eyes—Novia poked her forehead with a single outstretched finger.
"...What was that just now? Seriously, you're getting more and more infuriating."
That little poke made Albion feel an inexplicable and embarrassing kind of shame. And the more she thought about the golden-haired human girl making her way up the stairs alone—how she and Novia would soon be alone again while she herself would have to sit on the sidelines—the more it pissed her off.
So before Novia could say anything, Albion suddenly leapt forward, tilted her head, and buried her face against his neck, taking a few nips with her sharp little teeth. She didn't bite hard—just enough to mark him. Then she muttered, "That girl's coming. Ugh, I do not want to see her. She's disgusting." And with that, she vanished.
Getting chewed on by Albion was nothing new for Novia. It had become part of his routine—every time her mood soured, she'd take a nibble. But unlike in the beginning, there was no tearing of flesh or spurting blood. These days, it felt more like... affectionate pats.
Turning back toward the Pantheon's entrance, Novia saw her—Nero, dressed in ceremonial imperial garb, climbing the steps one by one. This was the final act of her coronation.
In ancient Rome, a new emperor's ascension typically involved a grand military parade to display strength and show military support.
After that came formal recognition by the Senate and the army, followed by a proclamation outlining the emperor's governing philosophy and goals.
Festivities would then unfold—banquets, games, and the distribution of gifts—to showcase imperial generosity and win popular support.
Finally, the emperor would enter the temple to offer sacrifices and receive divine favor.
But now, with Christianity declared the state religion, things had changed.
The emperor—Nero—was to receive her divine blessing not through sacrifice, but through Novia.
Yet, something felt off. Novia didn't see any of the traditional symbols of authority: no crown, no scepter, no imperial cloak. Normally, the new emperor would carry such regalia to visually assert their power.
Instead, Nero clutched only one item: the Primal Flame, a gift Novia had given her long ago.
Still, it wasn't a big issue. None of those items were strictly required; they were customs, not law.
So Novia simply seated himself beneath the "Eye of the Dome"—the circular opening at the top of the Pantheon—and waited.
It was noon.
Sunlight streamed through the oculus, pouring into the entrance like liquid gold.
And just as Nero stepped through the archway, the light landed squarely on her, illuminating her in dazzling brilliance. The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The sight drew every eye.
Novia hadn't planned it this way—Nero had insisted. She said it was more dramatic, more artistic. He had simply gone along with it.
"Teacher, something's come up... could I ask you to close your eyes for a moment?"
"Sure."
Her voice came from beyond the arch. Novia did as she asked and shut his eyes.
"Mm-hmm, mm-hmm... Alright, Teacher, you can open them now!"
After a few seconds, Nero's voice rang out again. During that time, Novia had sensed the surge of magical energy. She had clearly cast something.
And when he opened his eyes—
Bathed in sunlight, standing at the center of the arch—
Golden locks fluttered beneath a white ceremonial hat, above which sat a glimmering gold laurel wreath. Her fair skin glowed, and those emerald eyes shimmered like the surface of an alpine lake.
Her boots struck the floor with crisp, resounding steps as she walked toward him.
"Well? What do you think? I spent so long coming up with this look! It's only for you, Teacher! And since you love white, I made the whole thing white~!"
With each cheerful sentence, the rose-shaped earrings at her ears swayed in time.
"It's lovely."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Really really?"
"Yes. Without a doubt. I love it."
"Hmph. Just one compliment? That's no good at all. I want a reward—a really good reward. Or else I'll be mad."
Pouting, Nero puffed her cheeks and pushed out her lower lip.
"Nero, you're an emperor now—"
"I don't care about being emperor! I want my reward!"
Nero stood on tiptoe, hands resting on his shoulders, her gaze locked onto his with eyes that burned like flame.
And so, as he looked into her blushing, radiant face—Novia kissed her.
"Will that do?"
"Mmm... Teacher, you could've kept going... but that was nice too, hehe..."
Her gaze still burned with fire, but beneath the flames—there lurked something darker.
Like mud.
Something black and bottomless, waiting to consume everything.
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