'Ultimate Protocol' authority activated instantly—Forced Silence/Block Specific Target Communication!
The blurry projection flickered violently like a screen with poor signal, then, as if its signal source was forcibly cut, instantly disintegrated and vanished. It couldn't even transmit the last half of its curse.
Only Phaethon's calm, proud final words lingered in the air, echoing softly across the empty battlements:
"—Because I would never say such harsh things to the people I care about."
"As for those I don't care about... oh, sorry, I mean... *things*."
"I usually don't let them finish speaking in the first place."
The essence was: I can insult you, and you'll take it. You want to insult me? Sorry, not interested, not qualified to speak. Even listening to your barking is a waste of my time.
---
Okhema, the Heroes' Bath.
Warm steam rose like gossamer, blurring the pillars and vaulted ceiling carved with ancient epics.
Aglaea soaked in the warm water, leaning halfway against the pool's edge. The mist made her features somewhat hazy, but her eyes, tempered by ages, clearly reflected the figure of the newcomer.
Watching the tall, determined warrior stride into the bath area, a knowing smile touched the corner of her mouth. Her voice was soft, softened further by the moist air:
"Mydei?" she said softly, as if she had expected this. "You came after all."
Her gaze calmly swept over Mydei's posture, which seemed to carry the weight of a monumental decision, and she continued:
"And it seems... you are prepared to take up the divine authority of 'Strife,' which has always been connected to your bloodline."
Mydei stopped at the pool's edge. His magma-like eyes fixed on Aglaea. He believed he saw through all the machinations, his voice low, carrying a trace of barely perceptible wariness:
"All I can say is, the Goldenweave Heiress of the Holy City truly lives up to being a millennia-old demigod."
"You knew all along that Phaethon couldn't possibly pass that so-called trial, didn't you? Your ultimate goal was never him. It was to make me... have no choice but to take up this power, right?"
His words held the certainty of 'I see through you.'
Contrary to his expectations, Aglaea did not deny or defend herself. Instead, she let out a soft laugh, its ripples spreading gently across the water.
"It seems... the me from before, cold, knowing only calculation and using everything... truly left a rather terrible and deep-seated impression on you, and on many others."
Her words held a touch of faint self-mockery, but more than that, a sense of release.
She let the smile fade, her gaze becoming profound and sincere as she looked at Mydei through the steam:
"But... Mydei."
"What if I said that my true purpose in arranging this trial was simply to use the opportunity to force Phaethon to confront the deepest fears within his own heart?"
Aglaea slowly revealed her true intent. "He possesses great power, extraordinary potential, but he is still green."
"He only vaguely understands he must shoulder the responsibility of 'Deliverer,' but he has never truly, deeply comprehended what that title represents..."
"The utterly crushing, unbearably heavy cost behind it."
She gently stirred the water with her hand, continuing, "In comparison, that child Phainon, though his strength is far inferior to Phaethon's, understood the cruel truth behind those three words—'the Deliverer'—much earlier and more profoundly than Phaethon ever has."
"Phaethon, sometimes... in certain aspects, can be naively immature."
Aglaea's tone held no derision, but rather a complex worry.
"The Flame Chase Journey is a path of constant loss, where even life must seem as insignificant as dust."
"Yet he always seems stubbornly determined to achieve a perfect ending where no one sacrifices anything..."
"Hah, perhaps that is his strength. But it might also be his greatest flaw."
Aglaea's focus shifted, her gaze settling firmly on Mydei once more, her tone becoming exceptionally grave:
"As for you, Mydei. It seems the me who only knew how to use and weigh things indeed left an indelible, terrible impression on you."
"For that... I need, and I must, apologize to you."
She placed a hand gently over her chest, as if feeling the faint but real emotional fluctuations slowly reviving there:
"Though the humanity I lost has not fully returned, the belated remorse and reflection belonging to the past has caught up to me first."
"Therefore, this time, I never intended to scheme against you. Your coming here, your willingness to inherit the authority of 'Strife'... for me, this was not part of a plan. It is, truly... an unexpected joy."
"..." Mydei fell silent. The light in his magma-like eyes flickered intensely, as if digesting this completely unexpected information and apology.
After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice lower, more complex: "You... have changed so much, Aglaea."
"Have I?" Aglaea let out a soft laugh, tinged with emotion.
"You have changed too, Mydei. The citizens of Okhema have changed too. As well as those kremnoan people who chose to stay have changed..."
"It seems we are all changing. Why is that?"
"Yes... we are all changing. Why is that?" Mydei repeated. His gaze seemed to drift into the distance, towards that homeland now being assaulted by the Black Tide.
And the corner of his mouth finally curled into a genuinely released, gratified smile.
"My people... they have made their choice."
"They chose to return to Castrum Kremnos. Not to chase that long-rotten, illusory glory, but for what Phaethon called... 'survival'."
"To live, to protect the people behind them they wish to protect, they chose to return to that scorched earth and fight the Tide."
Then, he suddenly lifted his head. All hesitation and complex emotions were swept away, replaced by unwavering resolve and immense, surging fighting spirit!
"So—!" His voice boomed like thunder, reverberating through the Heroes' Bath, heralding the return and awakening of a king!
"As the King of Castrum Kremnos! How could I... possibly stand by and watch my people shed their blood on the front lines, while I hide in the rear, doing nothing?!"
He took a step forward, his gaze blazing, fixed on Aglaea:
"Aglaea! I am prepared!"
"Not forced, not manipulated by schemes, but by my own will, to protect my people and this world—"
"I will—personally take up the divine authority of 'Strife'!"