The Queen’s Unveiling

A profound stillness had settled over the palace today.

A heavy, stifling atmosphere permeated the air, an ominous calm that felt like the prelude to a coming storm.

Ophelia, seated on her elevated throne, felt the oppressive atmosphere keenly, a disquieting sensation that left her restless.

Her gaze swept over the gathered figures below, only to find Eli glaring at her with an intense, seething hatred.

‘Had he truly come to despise her?’ Ophelia mused.

‘After such a long period of dormancy, it was likely he intended to stir up trouble now.’

This aligned perfectly with the Eli of the novel, who, in a desperate, dying struggle, had caused the protagonist immense distress and even driven Vina to commit murder.

Though Eli was a debauched man, he held a profound reverence for his claim to the throne.

When he grew serious, he shed his usual minor villain facade, transforming into someone who delighted in exploiting the vulnerabilities and weaknesses of others.

‘What weakness of hers was he preparing to exploit now?’

****

The council session commenced.

As usual, Ophelia remained silent, allowing Vina to articulate every point while Emily, her subordinate, offered supplementary details.

The sole unexpected element for Ophelia was Delores’s unexplained absence today.

“Your Majesty,” Jean-Paul suddenly declared, stepping forward.

“While I, your humble servant, was strolling through the capital today, I observed two suspicious commoners.

I ordered my guards to investigate, and upon them, they discovered this—”

He then produced a small statue.

The statue depicted a hooded figure, arms outstretched towards the heavens, its face obscured by the deep shadow of the cowl.

One of its raised hands clutched a staff, an otherwise innocuous detail.

Yet, for some inexplicable reason, the statue exuded an unsettling and ominous aura, deeply disturbing to behold.

Ophelia recognized it instantly.

The book had referenced a multitude of gods.

For instance, the “Sun” revered by the Holy Knights was, in fact, the “God of Light and Faith.”

Other righteous deities included the “God of Stars and Wisdom,” the “God of War and Delusion,” and the “God of Ages and Civilization.”

Alongside them existed a myriad of evil gods, whose sole purpose was to usurp, or even consume, the authority and very essence of the righteous deities.

Among these were Desire Bubble, the Door of Death, the Transient of the Mortal Realm—represented by this very statue—and the Void of Time.

Interestingly, a profound secret existed, known only to a select few, one that would only be uncovered much, much later in the narrative.

Perhaps Ophelia alone in this entire realm was privy to this particular revelation.

This secret was that the “God of War and Delusion” was, in truth, an evil god who had devoured the authority of a righteous deity.

Originally named “Death’s Illusion,” the “God of War and Delusion” had usurped the very authority of the “God of Dreams and Fantasies.”

Consequently, the little loli God of Stars harbored a deep fear of this entity.

Later, when the little loli was ensnared by Luca, the God of War had intended to intervene, but the little loli, consumed by fear, had refused their aid.

Readers had speculated that had the “God of War and Delusion” intervened to assist the little loli at that critical moment, Luca might not have prevailed.

Online forums had even erupted into heated debates over who would prove more powerful in the story’s later stages: Luca or the “God of War and Delusion.”

‘Ah, yes,’ Ophelia thought, ‘during the next Starry Sky Tea Party, I must exchange something with the little loli God of Stars for knowledge, thereby earning her favor.’

‘I’ll leverage the secret that “the God of War and Delusion was once an evil god, yet harbors a profound protective desire for you,” using this knowledge to pry open the little loli’s heart.’

As Ophelia’s thoughts drifted, Vina’s voice cut through the air.

“Immediately conduct a thorough investigation throughout the entire capital,” Vina commanded, her voice sharp with urgency.

“Especially ascertain if many vagrants and residents of the slums have gone missing.

Quickly!”

Ophelia’s wandering thoughts snapped back into focus.

She observed Vina’s expression, a rare sight of severe solemnity, even carrying a hint of murderous intent.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” Jean-Paul responded, his voice firm, having grasped the gravity of the situation.

He knew that once, humanity had been divided into four great nations: Kingdoms, Empires, United Nations, and Commercial States—the latter essentially a vast collective of capitalists.

Under the relentless oppression of the capitalists, the populace had risen in rebellion.

Yet, in their desperation, they had invoked the evil god, Void of Time, unleashing a great catastrophe.

To this day, no one truly understood the full extent of what transpired; a once-flourishing nation had, in a single night, been reduced to an expanse of white desert.

While evil gods would indeed answer prayers, such boons always came at a steep price.

They would siphon vibrant life force, using it to contend against the righteous gods who drew power from their followers’ faith.

Desire Bubble was the sole exception, for that entity absorbed desires themselves.

The threat posed by evil gods was, therefore, immense.

Observing Jean-Paul, Ophelia saw the old man’s face set in a grim, resolute expression, clearly preparing to tackle this grave matter with utmost seriousness.

“Well then, have the serious matters concluded?” Eli interjected, stepping forward as silence fell over the council.

“According to kingdom law, after the Queen Regent’s rule, she holds the right to name the next king.

I previously relinquished my status as successor due to the matters concerning Hizeta and Luca.

Now, I demand it back.”

“I am, after all, the sole male heir, and the successor personally designated by my father, the King,” he pressed, a challenging glint in his eyes.

“Your Majesty, surely you wouldn’t fail to appoint me as the next king, would you?”

It was a seemingly reasonable request, at least on the surface.

Ophelia knew that Eli was well aware she would refuse, which meant he had undoubtedly prepared a contingency.

She could not fathom what this fallback plan entailed, but she knew, with certainty, that it was not to be underestimated.

“Regarding this request…” Vina began, her voice coming from behind Ophelia.

“Silence!” Eli cut her off, his voice sharp with contempt.

“Without the Queen, you’d still be scavenging for dung.

Who gave you the right to speak on her behalf?

I’ve been sick of you for a long time.”

‘Well, well, daring to shout at the female protagonist? He must be tired of living!’ Ophelia thought, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

‘Which means I have to speak now…’

She paused.

‘But I was already prepared.’

While Ophelia might surpass the system in the intricate calculus of human hearts, when it came to other calculations, well, naturally—

Under the collective gaze of the assembly, Ophelia slowly closed her eyes, then just as deliberately reopened them.

A collective shiver ran through the onlookers.

Eli, his brow furrowed, had gambled on the Queen’s aura being partly derived from Vina, thus prioritizing silencing her.

Yet, at this moment, the Queen’s formidable aura emanated solely from her.

For some inexplicable reason, a flicker of amusement danced in Vina’s eyes, while the rest of the assembly, particularly Emily, stared in synchronized astonishment.

Marta, for her part, couldn’t shake the uncanny feeling that this commanding aura was strangely familiar.

Many had, moments before, been discreetly stealing glances at the Queen’s veiled face, having heard whispers of her devastating beauty once the fabric was removed.

They were utterly unprepared for the sudden, icy shift in her demeanor, which now held them so utterly captive that none dared to raise their eyes.

“No,” the Queen replied, her voice clear and decisive.

“Why?” Eli countered, a note of desperation in his voice.

“I have clearly reflected on my actions!”

“Because you lack the magnanimity to be king,” the Queen stated simply.

Eli was utterly speechless.

He had meticulously anticipated a myriad of responses from the Queen, yet he had never imagined such a direct, concise declaration.

All his carefully prepared rebuttals vanished, forcing him to improvise on the spot.

“I lack the magnanimity to be king?” Eli scoffed, regaining his composure.

“Then I ask you, Your Majesty, do you truly believe you possess the authority to be regent?

You, with no magic, no royal blood, merely chosen by my father and never even taken as his consort!”

A soft, almost imperceptible chuckle escaped the Queen’s lips.

For reasons unknown, the Queen, typically perceived as gentle by the assembled nobles, now exuded an inexplicable, almost tyrannical dominance, compelling them to instinctively desire to prostrate themselves in submission.

“Why would I not?” she retorted, her voice imbued with a quiet power.

“Have you forgotten?

I was chosen by everyone here, aligning perfectly with both national policy and the interests of the majority of nobles.”

“I am perfectly capable of managing state affairs; this requires no proof to you,” she declared, her gaze unwavering.

“With great power comes great responsibility, and this body is inherently destined to wield the ultimate authority over all under heaven.”

Eli’s brows furrowed tightly.

Fluent in her responses, without the slightest hint of hesitation, he thought, ‘Damn it… I analyzed her wrong!

Was that woman always pretending?’

He glanced at the Guild Master behind him.

The Guild Master, in turn, looked back at him with a worried expression.

‘There’s no turning back now!’

‘A legless bird, born to fly, dies the moment it lands.’

‘Therefore, as a member of the royal family, as the king’s successor…’

‘I cannot retreat now.’

Eli looked up, about to speak again, when the Queen rose from her seat.

She opened her palm, and a pink flame danced within it.

It burned ever brighter, until it enveloped Ophelia’s body, ascending as if to crown her.

“A second-tier fire control spell?” the Guild Master behind Eli gasped, utterly dumbfounded.

“Is this truly a second-tier spell?

Why does a second-tier spell possess such immense power?”

Eli, too, stood frozen in place.

“Second-tier Fire Control,” the Queen announced, her voice resonating with cool confidence.

“I shall use only this one spell.

You intend for those mages behind you to challenge me and undermine my right to regency, do you not?”

The Queen’s lips curved subtly beneath her veil.

“Come at me, all of you.

This Queen is in a hurry.”