Astrid couldn’t even begin to comprehend what had just happened. When she returned to the scene, everyone was gone.

"...."

Astrid looked at her hand.

Never before had she seen her magic disappear like that, let alone any magic to just simply vanish without a trace. She was certain it wasn’t her sister’s power. That meant a third party existed somewhere, someone capable of making her magic disappear.

Astrid felt a chill run down her spine.

She hadn’t meant to unleash that much power on her own sister, but when Irene spoke of Vanitas the way she did, something inside her just snapped. She had lost control, even if only for a moment.

Nevertheless, part of her was grateful that her magic hadn’t hit.

And another part of her was afraid of whoever had been responsible for dismantling it.

"...What was that?"

Astrid looked around. Bodies were scattered across the area, people who had fallen victim to her magic.

"...."

Astrid swallowed hard. Then, while they were still unconscious, she began bandaging them and treating their wounds one by one before quietly disappearing from the scene.

* * *

Even with its Pope dead, its Sword Saint reported missing in action alongside its Saintess, the church remained very much active as the flames of rebellion had yet to spread to the doorsteps of its branches.

Nevertheless, everyone within the church was already aware of what had happened to the Grand Cathedral deep within the Theocracy.

Even so, to those who had devoted their faith entirely to the Lord, this was not the end.

It was merely a trial.

After all, the corruption festering within the church had finally been brought to light. Those who needed to be purged had been purged. It was all part of God’s will.

And to the more radical believers, Vanitas Astrea was not a sinner, but the executioner sent by the Lord Himself to cleanse those who had dared to defile His home.

Of course, not everyone shared that belief.

Many still viewed Vanitas as a heretic, a monster who had desecrated sacred ground and brought ruin upon the church.

But in times of chaos, faith often twisted itself into whatever shape people needed to endure.

And right now, the church desperately needed something to believe in.

"It’s strange, Silas. All the maids in the house say they can’t even return home, afraid they’ll get caught in the fighting. Yet wherever we go, it feels like nothing has really changed. It’s still... relatively peaceful..."

"It’s because of the Professor."

"Is that so? Hmm. I thought as much."

Silas continued pushing his sister, Arwen, in her wheelchair along the flower path toward their mansion.

"Yeah," Silas said. "Most of the chaos only happens at night because the Professor made it that way. In the capital, anyone caught openly terrorizing civilians is immediately beheaded."

"Ah..."

It was harsh.

But it had to be done.

The flames of war had already begun consuming parts of the Empire, and signs of conflict appeared every night. Though most of it was kept from the public eye, it was only a matter of time before the entire Empire was swallowed by it.

"Unfortunately... that only applies to the capital," Silas continued. "Outside of it... well..."

He didn’t need to say more.

Just the other day, nobles fleeing from the countryside toward the capital had been intercepted by rebels along the roadside and slaughtered.

Last night, a commoner working the late shift had been found dismembered in an alley. His corpse was hung from a street lamp with accusations of being a noble informant carved into his chest.

Two days ago, a noble estate on the outskirts of the capital had been set ablaze in the middle of the night. The servants were spared, but the family inside had been locked in while the mansion burned.

Three days ago, a rebel leader was publicly executed by the authorities. His head had been displayed at the city gates by morning, while his followers were left hanging beneath the walls as a warning.

Four days ago, a group of factory workers marching through the streets had vanished overnight. By dawn, their bodies were discovered dumped into the river with their hands bound behind their backs, with noble insignias stuffed into their mouths.

Five days ago, an entire noble carriage was overturned near the western district. The guards escorting it were butchered so brutally that even veteran soldiers struggled to identify the remains.

The Empire was rotting.

And the worst part was that people were already beginning to grow numb to it.

"Silas."

Arwen placed a hand over Silas’s, which had been gripping the wheelchair’s handle.

"Be careful..."

"...!"

Silas turned slightly red before quickly clearing his throat.

"Ahem. Careful with what, Arwen? I’m—"

"It’s alright. I know."

"...."

"You’ve involved yourself with one of the factions," Arwen continued. "You’re acting as the Professor’s eyes and ears to help him. I may be blind, but I’m not stupid. I admire what you’re doing, but there’s a limit to the danger you should throw yourself into."

"...."

"And besides," Arwen added, "you’re weak. So out of all your friends, you should be the most careful."

"...Arwen, I’m not that weak."

"Yes, yes. And I’m not blind." Arwen sighed softly. "In any case, do you understand, Silas? If you were gone... I’d..."

Silas felt his heart tighten.

Now that he thought about it, if he died, who would look after Arwen?

"Arwen," he said. "Don’t worry. I was placed in a strategist position. I won’t be on the field as much as you think."

"That’s good. Were you the one who applied for it?"

"Uh... no. I was assigned by the leader."

"See, Silas?" Arwen said with a slight tilt of her head. "Even a stranger can tell you’re not suited for the battlefield."

Whoosh——

Silas could only stare ahead at the trees swaying as the wind passed through them, the silence between them turning awkward.

"...You know what?" he began. "I think I’ll join the next operation—"

"Absolutely not!"

* * *

In the working-class district of Aetherion.

"Ezra, have you heard from the Professor?"

"No. Haven’t seen him this whole time," Ezra replied. "But I heard the operation in Zyphran was a success. Since even the Emperor has already returned, the Professor should be back by now."

"I see."

Under the cover of night, Cassandra and Ezra remained on standby while observing the warehouse from a distance.

The building was suspected of storing supplies for the noble faction opposing Vanitas Astrea, a group rallying behind a certain Marquess who boldly had proclaimed himself as Aetherion’s future leader.

Surprisingly, the man had gathered quite a following. In parliament, he had built a reputation as one of the few nobles who openly criticized corruption, earning the support of the working class and lower nobility alike.

To many, he appeared to be a rare exception among the aristocracy.

But appearances meant little in Aetherion.

Behind the scenes, the Marquess had been funneling weapons into the slums while secretly funding riots to destabilize districts loyal to opposing factions.

Entire neighborhoods had been burned under the guise of rebellion, only for him to arrive afterward with food, medicine, and speeches about unity, turning tragedy into political leverage.

A week ago, one of the rebels captured by Cassandra’s group had his fingernails ripped out before finally confessing where the weapons were coming from.

That led them here.

"You think the information’s reliable?" Cassandra asked.

"It better be," Ezra muttered. "Three of our people already died trying to track this place."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes toward the warehouse.

Despite the late hour, movement could still be seen inside. Men carrying crates. Armed guards patrolling the perimeter. And from time to time, expensive carriages arrived discreetly through the back entrance.

At that moment, someone emerged from the bushes.

"Kaelus. I’ve received word from the leader. Begin the operation."

"Got it."

The faction Ezra and Cassandra had involved themselves with was, without question, the most extreme of them all.

A faction made up of Vanitas Astrea loyalists who sided with both the Emperor and Vanitas himself. To them, anyone opposing the established order was an enemy that needed to be eliminated.

Their beliefs were simple.

The elite were meant to remain the elite.

As such, the faction consisted largely of higher nobles and knights who believed the Empire’s structure must be preserved at all costs.

Change, in their eyes, would only drive Aetherion further into ruin. Those who believed they could suddenly govern the Empire better than the bloodlines that had ruled for centuries were nothing more than delusional fools.

And to them, that reasoning made perfect sense.

Aetherion had prospered for generations under its current order. There was no reason to dismantle it now. This rebellion was merely a temporary infection that would eventually pass.

And when it did, the people would finally realize something.

There was no point in resisting an order that had already withstood the test of time.

Without any preamble, the operation began.

Boom——!

Sparks exploded as the main gates were blown apart by a barrage of magic. Flames surged across the entrance while metal and debris scattered across the street.

By then, knights and mages alike were already rushing through the opening.

There was no need for cowardly tactics.

Unlike the other factions, the loyalists had no reason to hide. They were the order itself. The very force that had upheld Aetherion’s peace for centuries.

"Move!"

"Secure the warehouse!"

"Kill anyone who resists!"

Commands echoed through the night as the loyalists stormed forward. Defensive magic circles lit up inside the warehouse almost immediately, followed by arrows and spells firing outward in retaliation.

And while Ezra and Cassandra did not agree with many of the faction’s ideals, this was unfortunately the only group that openly supported Vanitas Astrea.

That alone was enough reason for them to cooperate.

Moreover, this was also the faction they needed to keep in check at all costs.

That night, the warehouse was reduced to ashes. Everyone inside had been detained, while the supplies stored within were either confiscated or destroyed beyond recovery.

By morning, the effects had already begun to spread.

Several factions suddenly found themselves suffering shortages. Ammunition became scarce, medicine deliveries stopped arriving, and even basic food supplies in certain districts began disappearing.

Later on, every operation carried out by the loyalists was absolute.

They targeted supply chains, informants, gathering points, and influential figures one by one, slowly choking opposing factions until they could no longer function properly.

That was why so many feared Vanitas Astrea.

Not because he was the strongest.

But because his methods worked.

Standing amidst the burning remains of the warehouse, Ezra watched the flames rise into the night sky while bodies were dragged out one after another in chains.

At that moment, a nobleman, the team leader of the operation, approached.

Ezra kept his expression calm, though rage quietly boiled inside him.

"Good work, Kaelus. Myne," the man said as he turned toward Ezra and Cassandra. "These people need to understand that resistance is futile."

"Yes."

"Yes."

Neither Ezra nor Cassandra agreed with the man.

To them, he was no different from the corrupt nobles they claimed to oppose. The only difference was that he stood on the same side as Vanitas Astrea.

But Vanitas had already given them permission.

When the right time came...

"Don’t be late tomorrow. The Emperor is apparently delivering a speech."

They were allowed to kill him.