“Success...”

Thud.

His body gave out.

As Jeong Haein fell from the sky, Aldebaran casually stretched out his foreleg and caught him.

Completely unconscious, Haein’s limp body slowly radiated residual warmth.

Aldebaran silently looked down at him for a moment, then turned his head.

His shoulder.

The once-impenetrable shell was crumbling into dust, scattering into the air.

Deep lacerations, torn open by repeated strikes, had carved into his shoulder.

Hmph...

Aldebaran inhaled slowly.

At first, the direction wasn’t bad.

He had even felt a faint twinge of anticipation—but had ultimately assumed it would end in failure again.

He had planned to send the boy back.

But near the end, the momentum changed.

It wasn’t just desperation or some final burst of effort. There was something more. As if... someone was helping him.

Aldebaran slowly raised his gaze.

Far away—beyond the boundary of the mental world—a small human was curled up beside Jeong Haein.

A black-haired girl. She was holding his body tightly in her arms.

But Aldebaran wasn’t focused on that.

What caught his attention was the aura flowing from her.

It wasn’t something even he could disregard.

- ...

Aldebaran slowly closed his eyes.

Would this be enough to reach them? It was a razor-thin margin.

He couldn’t say for sure it was impossible. But he couldn’t guarantee it was possible either.

Still, this time, the boy wasn’t alone. The constant flow of black flame pouring into him—was proof enough.

Aldebaran faintly smiled.

Very well.

Normally, he would have been strict—unbending—and never granted approval.

But now, with a casual gesture, he lifted Catastrophe from the floor with telekinesis.

Then—

Two of his eight claws touched the spear.

There was a sound like metal striking metal—but instead of resisting, the claws melted like liquid into the spear’s core.

Catastrophe’s energy roared violently.

On the black obsidian shaft of the spear, crimson engravings began to form.

This meant one thing:

The trial had been passed.

The rest depended on him.

Was the path ahead truly carved by his own strength?

Or was it simply the result of chance?

Aldebaran silently looked down at the wound Haein had left behind.

And then—his lips curled into a faint smile.

***

“Goddamn—”

I shot upright.

I remembered breaking through the shell and falling from midair.

But... everything after that was a blur.

Did I fail?

A chill ran through me.

I immediately glanced around, then turned my gaze to Catastrophe.

There it was—the spear, now transformed.

Its formerly uniform black surface was now etched with glowing crimson lines.

They pulsed gently, like living ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ veins lit from within.

Slowly, I reached out and gripped the spear’s handle.

It worked.

A faint smile appeared on my lips.

I’d passed the second trial.

Now, I could borrow a portion of his power.

There were still many trials ahead—but for now, this was enough.

“You’re... awake?”

A low, drowsy voice.

I turned my head.

Sion was rubbing her eyes, just waking up. It looked like she had dozed off beside me.

She must’ve stayed at my side, standing guard until I woke... and ended up falling asleep herself.

I reached out without thinking and brushed the hair from her forehead.

Her skin was still warm.

Sion looked up at me with dazed eyes.

“I did it,” I said confidently.

At those words, I felt the power flowing through my body more vividly than ever.

Everything was ready.

The time for the final battle was drawing near.

***

A golden weekend.

But Kang Arin was crossing the city toward the Arcadia Temple.

There was no time to rest—too much to prepare. She had determined this was the most critical turning point.

She could’ve taken a car with an escort and secretary in tow, made things easy for herself.

But every step she took was usually recorded and reported on by the press.

So, to solidify her alliance with Arcadia, she chose to walk through the temple’s front entrance herself.

When Kang Arin walked, the street fell into momentary silence.

Her black-tinted hair shimmered under the sunlight, gleaming as it swayed.

Whispers drifted from the onlookers.

“Isn’t that Kang Arin?”

“She’s gorgeous...”

“What’s she doing at the temple?”

She was already a star.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

A business mogul. A future hero. A woman of undeniable talent.

No matter where she went, all eyes naturally followed her.

As she entered, one of the priests working at the front desk leapt up in alarm.

“Kang Arin-nim!!”

A familiar face. Likely someone from Cheon Yeoul’s circle.

So Kang Arin offered a gentle smile and waved her hand.

“Hello~ I’m here for an appointment with the Saint.”

The priest blinked, a little flustered.

There was an awkward look on his face.

“Ah! Yes, of course—but... the Saint is currently offering her afternoon prayer to the Goddess. Could you wait just a moment? It should be over soon!”

She barely held back a laugh.

She’s praying?

To who, exactly?

Kang Arin looked up at the ceiling.

At the center of the grand, domed structure, a colossal statue of the Goddess floated suspended in the air.

The sacred entity guarding the temple’s heart.

Most likely, that was the object of the prayers—but Kang Arin sincerely doubted it.

She shook her head.

“It’s alright. I’ll just wait here.”

With practiced ease, Kang Arin made her way to one of the sofas arranged along the side of the temple.

The leather cushions were soft, and the subtle fragrance lingering in the air gently brushed her nose.

She crossed her legs and leaned back in a relaxed posture.

How many minutes passed like that?

From a distance, Cheon Yeoul began walking out.

Her white ceremonial robes swayed softly with each step.

The gentle lights flowed along her figure.

A slim waist, elegant curves that continued smoothly downward.

Her hips flared full and deep, projecting an air of grace that radiated even through the fabric.

Holy—yet at the same time, sensually captivating.

‘...Ugh. Annoying.’

Just looking at that overwhelming something was irritating.

Kang Arin herself had an objectively exceptional figure—but Cheon Yeoul was different.

If Kang Arin’s was firm and sculpted, Cheon Yeoul’s was soft and fluid. Supple. Plush, even.

Not knowing what he liked more only made it worse. The irritation just surged up for no reason.

“You didn’t wait too long, did you?”

Cheon Yeoul approached with a radiant smile.

A smooth, flawless diplomatic front.

And yet—what was this strange feeling bubbling up inside?

But Kang Arin was a professional.

“Not at all~ I was just enjoying the interior of the temple. Time flew by.”

As the two of them naturally turned toward the reception lounge—

Johan stepped out from the opposite prayer room.

In that moment—

Johan instinctively tensed up.

When his eyes met Kang Arin’s, even for a brief instant, a sharp chill shot down his spine.

The memory of being struck by her made him instinctively avoid confrontation.

Johan quickly averted his gaze.

Even just eye contact seemed burdensome.

But Kang Arin didn’t spare him a single thought.

To her, he was less than human—and Cheon Yeoul shared the same sentiment.

The two women passed him by without so much as a glance.

But then—

A bishop, one presumed to be part of Johan’s faction, emerged from the prayer room.

Spotting Kang Arin, he immediately brightened his expression and extended a hand.

“Hahaha, to think we’d see the Lady of Glory here. A true pleasure! Our Arcadia has always enjoyed a positive relationship—”

Externally, the words sounded right.

Internally, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

More precisely, it wasn’t Arcadia that maintained good relations with Glory—it was only Cheon Yeoul’s faction within it.

The idea that the entire temple was cooperative with Glory? A laughable notion.

Even the High Priest knew that full well.

But in a place like this, with so many eyes watching, it was the perfect opportunity for political posturing.

Kang Arin is bound to care about public perception, the bishop thought with a smirk.

Now she just had to accept the handshake and display their alliance.

But Kang Arin valued something far more than external appearances.

As if coordinated, she and Cheon Yeoul both brushed past the bishop’s outstretched hand with cold expressions and entered the reception room.

Disgusting.

She had never once considered touching that filthy hand.

***

Inside the quiet reception room, their conversation flowed without end.

“So, even the Lord’s personnel are being prepped on standby?” Cheon Yeoul asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“I gave the Association a counteroffer,” Kang Arin replied smoothly, crossing her legs.

“They were a bit caught off guard, but more personnel isn’t exactly a downside. They’ll accept it soon enough.”

Jeong Haein had officially only requested help from the Paladin, but Kang Arin couldn’t just sit still.

There were just two weeks left until the operation.

Everyone had a role to play.

“Is Glory coming?” Cheon Yeoul asked.

Glory’s First Team—if they came, it would be a massive help.

“No.”

Kang Arin answered curtly.

“The Guildmaster’s headed to the U.S. for that Fragment demonstration.”

Cheon Yeoul’s eyes narrowed.

Then she smiled and asked,

“Are you going to use it?”

There were only four of those Fragments in the entire world.

One had already been stably settled with Jeong Haein. The remaining three were meant for them.

One of them had been embedded beneath the Pentagon, but recently, the U.S. seemed to have discovered its use—and was planning a demonstration, inviting major global figures.

“They’ll fail,” Kang Arin scoffed.

Cheon Yeoul nodded in agreement.

A brief silence followed.

“Haa...”

The coming confrontation—its difficulty jutted out like jagged rock.

Kang Arin believed that if they could overcome this, a period of peace might follow.

That’s why it had to be resolved. No matter what.

This turning point would be the most critical moment yet—for him, whom she loved without end.

She slowly rolled the teacup between her fingers.

A cool, herbal fragrance filled the air around them.

“Let’s do this right.”

“Yeah.”

Just this once—

They were of one mind.

The decisive battle was slowly approaching.