"Everyone, may I have your attention."
The deep, steady voice cut cleanly through the banquet hall.
Conversations halted. Glasses paused midair.
A man stepped forward.
Golden hair, neatly kept, and a crown resting upon his head—there was no mistaking the symbol of the royal family.
"The Emperor..."
As the highest authority in the empire revealed himself, the nobles instinctively straightened. Every gaze converged on him.
"Each and every one of you," the emperor continued, his tone measured yet resonant, "is a pillar that supports this empire. Before you indulge in tonight’s banquet, there is someone I wish to formally introduce."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall.
"Someone worth a personal introduction from His Majesty?"
"Has a new hero emerged?"
"Or perhaps a rising duke?"
"Could it be Alice Draken... the prince’s fiancée?"
Speculation buzzed like a low hum beneath the vaulted ceiling. Whoever it was, they had to be extraordinary.
Then—
"Thank you for hosting such a gathering."
Another figure entered the hall.
An old man with snow-white hair and a neatly groomed beard. His face bore the marks of age, yet his posture was straight, his movements firm.
The formal robes he wore draped over a physique that felt... wrong for his apparent years, as though time had failed to weaken him properly.
A faint stir of confusion followed.
"Who is that?"
"I don’t recognize him..."
"Is he some retired noble?"
Most eyes held only uncertainty. The emperor’s presence had eclipsed the newcomer’s identity.
But not everyone was ignorant.
And neither was I.
"...The Pope?"
A familiar name surfaced in my mind.
In the game, he had always been there—standing immovably in the Holy City, handing out high-reward quests while refusing to take a single step beyond its walls, even when the Demon King’s armies advanced.
A man devoted entirely to defense.
To duty.
’Then why...?’
My unease grew.
"But why would he be here?" someone whispered.
"The Pope...?"
"Shouldn’t he be guarding Veltheria?"
The nobles who recognized him exchanged troubled glances. It had been decades—no, longer—since the Pope had appeared in such a public setting, let alone at an imperial banquet.
The old man smiled faintly, folding his hands within his sleeves.
"Greetings," he said calmly, his voice gentle yet carrying effortlessly across the hall.
"Nobles of the Solhaven Empire."
The reaction was immediate.
A few gasps.
Several stiffened backs.
More than one person instinctively bowed.
The emperor nodded toward him in acknowledgment.
"This man," the emperor declared, "is His Holiness, the Pope of Veltheria. He has crossed borders and custom to stand before you today."
The murmurs grew louder.
"To leave the Holy City himself..."
"What could warrant such a thing?"
The Pope lifted a hand, silencing the noise with ease.
"I understand your confusion," he said mildly. "It is true that I rarely leave Veltheria. My absence there today is not a decision I made lightly."
His eyes swept the room—not hurried, not sharp, but piercing all the same.
"I am here," he continued, "to say something to you who protects this lands."
The atmosphere shifted.
...And in the very next moment, someone stepped into the banquet hall.
Blonde hair that caught the chandelier’s light.
Heterochromatic eyes—one clear blue, the other a faint, almost unreal gold.
Large eyes framed by thick lashes, paired with a gentle, almost fragile expression.
She looked harmless.
—Click.
Before I realized it, strength had crept into the hand holding my fan.
There was a dull crack, and the already damaged fan split cleanly in two from the handle.
"...That is...."
"Hm?" Alice tilted her head slightly, following my gaze. "Do you know her?"
Not exactly.
Yet I could say this with certainty—I knew her better than anyone in this hall.
Better than the nobles whispering her name.
Better than the clergy smiling with pride.
Even better than the Pope himself.
"She is the saintess chosen by Goddess Ilyana," the Pope announced calmly, stepping forward.
"She plans to enroll in the academy alongside the others, so I thought it best to introduce her first."
It made sense.
The saintess.
The protagonist who always stood beneath the chandelier in the game’s opening scenes.
The one I had spent countless hours watching, listening to, and—regrettably—understanding.
"I look forward to working with you all."
Her greeting was flawless.
Elegant. Proper. Precisely what the nobles expected.
A saintess in every visible sense.
But that image was nothing more than a thin layer of paint.
[Be more courageous. Do you really need to walk the same path as your father? A prince should live as he truly wishes.]
[If you dislike that woman, is there any reason to go through with the engagement?]
[I don’t think you’re wrong. Freeing slaves... that’s noble. Sublime, even.]
Her true self spoke plainly.
Too plainly.
She confronted doubts head-on, never softening her words, never caring about the consequences.
Honest. Spirited. Sharp-tongued.
A personality so vivid that readers adored her in the web series.
Which was precisely why this meek, polished demeanor felt unbearably false.
’With that bold, fiery personality... she charmed nearly every main male character from prestigious families.’
Princes.
Dukes’ heirs.
Future commanders and saints-in-training alike.
If anything, calling her a saintess was misleading.
She was closer to a temptress—one cloaked in divine approval.
"I didn’t plan to do so," she once said casually, after leaving another man hopelessly devoted.
Dozens of men, led on without even trying.
"Julies," Alice said again, her voice sharper now. "Didn’t I ask if you knew her?"
I realized then that I had been staring.
Not at her face—but at her eyes.
Those eyes.
The same ones that would later watch Alice fall, silently and without hesitation.
The same ones that would tilt ever so slightly whenever someone’s fate shifted in her favor.
Saintess Lilia.
Because of that knowledge—because I knew the choices she would make, the paths she would abandon, and the ruin she would leave behind—
I couldn’t bring myself to view her kindly.
I slowly loosened my grip on the broken fan, forcing my fingers to relax.
"...No," I answered at last. "I don’t know her."
Alice studied me for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced, before turning her attention back to the center of the hall.