novelraw Chapter 295: Guardian Spirit
Chapter 295: Guardian Spirit
Chapter 295: Guardian Spirit For a moment, Ynixia felt as if the surrounding shadows wanted to suffocate her—their cold, icy touch gripping tightly to her skin as she laboured to move following the revelation.
“Say it… Say it again…” The words were laced in hesitation leaving her lips. She yelled once more after not receiving an answer:
“Say it again!”
This time, Morgan answered back with a rather obvious sigh. “Why must I declare something you yourself have already realized? But very well…
“Camilla will serve as my replacement on this eternal throne.”
Ynixia’s shadows flooded the hall, “I won’t let you!”
“Whether you let me or not, the decision isn’t up to you, child.” The Witch of Envy shook Her head with pity. “It will be up to Camilla herself to decide that outcome.”
“And why would she agree to such a proposition?!” The Shepherd finally stepped forward, breaking through the paralyzing shock. “I don’t understand why…” She shook her head, “Why must you bother her in this way? Has messing with her life for years not been enough for you?!”
“And why should you care?” Morgan’s response cut through Ynixia’s thoughts like a sharp knife through butter. She froze on the spot as the shadows clung to her tightly once again.
“What,” Morgan leaned back on the high seat and smiled, “did you not hear what I said? Perhaps I should repeat it for you—why do you care so much about Camilla?”
Ynixia’s expression twisted in anger, “Because she’s—”
“Your friend?” The witch interrupted, rolling her eyes. “Are you sure?”
“I…”
Morgan shook her head with a chuckle. “Can someone of your calibre really possess friends? You, the worshipped and feared Holy Maiden… The bearer of Oblivion’s Curse.
“Does that truly seem logical to you? That someone like you could ever possess an equal?” She shook Her head, “Nay. Not even the Temple would have approved of it. It would have been sacrilegious! Heretical, in fact.”
Ynixia stomped, “She was my friend!”
“She was your toy,” Morgan corrected. “A convenience that you used to alleviate your boredom. That’s all.”
“You’re wrong!” Her shouts shook the hall, the thickness of her anima becoming denser and denser as the seconds passed. That throne… That damned glass throne which reflected the witch so perfectly… Ynixia couldn’t help but want to torch it. Her grip on the skull ring grew tighter as she eyed the loosely dressed woman with obvious disgust and hatred.
But then… Morgan’s next words doused those righteous flames entirely:
“You say that, but how could you call yourself her friend when you couldn’t even remember her existence?”
“What…”
Morgan grinned. “Don’t act ignorant. Before coming to this castle, did you even remember Camilla at all? Heck, when you were conversing with the lonesome Traveler during your dance, you admitted you were not even familiar with her to begin with. You didn’t have any recollection of your relationship with her at all!
“To you… Camilla was nothing more than a stranger. At least until moments before you arrived at this chamber.”
Silence filled the air as the Shepherd gripped tightly to the seams of her dress. The violet in her eyes reflected the cold, shadow drenched cobblestone, staring at the ice cold ground in confusion.
Morgan on the other hand stared at her for a while—Her own thoughts hidden in their own layers of darkness. But eventually, even She sighed and leaned forward, shaking her head slowly:
“I am sure you’re aware by now who is inhabiting Cassilda’s body at the banquet hall. Now that your memories have returned, it should be obvious based on the similarities of their mannerisms and actions. Not to mention the fact that she did indeed control the subspace within this castle to a certain degree.”
Ynixia closed her eyes in grief.
“Camilla, after all, had inherited the title of Guardian Spirit. Something that was once reserved to only the heads of the two prominent families, prior to Arthur’s reign. Since the Throne of Glass was usually possessed by one family, the other would possess that title, along with the powers that come with it. And, after a few years, the two families would swap positions, with one family head becoming the Guardian Spirit while the other takes control of the throne. It was through this that balance was achieved between the two houses.”
“But after the subsequent betrayal, Azrathiel assumed permanent control over who inherited it. And Arthur was given sole authority over the Throne of Glass. But unlike his predecessors, he didn’t suffer any of its repercussions at all. It was truly a bizarre thing to witness back then,” She chuckled softly, as if to reminisce about days long past.
“From that point on, the role of the Guardian Spirit became decoupled from the duties of the House Lord. It instead became a contested title that any magi associated with House Azrathiel could obtain, as long as they proved their worthiness. Camilla… She was more than talented enough to obtain it.”
Ynixia remained silent for a while, thinking back on all her memories. Indeed, from their very first meeting, Camilla was just as, if not more talented in magecraft than she was. Albeit, Ynixia’s expertise rested more on the side of incantations, not sorceries.
But while Camilla was indeed talented, it was ultimately her meeting with Morgan that truly changed her fate. The two had coincidentally shared a very similar affinity, prompting the witch to take her on as an apprentice.
I should have known back then… I should have made Lancelot aware… I… She grit her teeth tightly.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Alas… I didn’t have the courage to stop Camilla from pursuing her dreams…
As the younger sister, she wasn’t as burdened with responsibility as Cassilda was. But after Arthur’s betrayal, Camilla became motivated in helping her sister restore the family’s honor. But she couldn't have anticipated the cost of such an endeavor…
“Truly, I feel pity.” Morgan shook Her head. “The weight of an entire family’s sins rested solely upon the shoulders of one little girl. It must have been truly a burden.”
The Shepherd stared quietly at the shimmering reflection above—anger simmering within.
She dares to actually say that?
Ynixia couldn’t believe this woman’s audacity. After a moment’s pause, she shook her head and gazed upon the throne—her eyes sharper than daggers.
“Tell me at least this, Morgan… That day in the Absinthe Woods—it wasn’t a coincidence, right?
“You’ve always been aware of this outcome, or a similar one occurring. Your meeting with Camilla and your subsequent choice of making her your disciple was not out of love or curiosity. Nor was it due to the similarities in your affinities…
“You had known a day like this would come, where her status as the Guardian Spirit would become useful. This wasn’t a sheer coincidence…”
The silence felt sharp enough to poke through her skin. Neither of them spoke as their eyes peered deeply into each other’s.
Eventually, though, Morgan chuckled, answering back with only one simple word:
“Correct.”
As time ticked on, Soren began to question whether he found the ruinous orchestra whose tunes scratched deeply at his ears more enjoyable than the suffocating silence currently plaguing him.
Ever since he made his guess regarding the Duchess’ identity, the world itself seemed to have paused. As if the simulation he was currently encompassing had suddenly concluded without warning.
It didn’t take long for him to try and break the silence once more. With a gentle smile, he attempted to speak again, “Did I guess corre—”
But it seemed “Cassilda” wanted to break it on her own terms. She opened her paper fan with a loud ruffle, covering the rest of her expression beneath the filigreed mask behind it as she interrupted him mid-sentence:
“How did you figure it out?”
Soren chuckled. “It wasn’t that hard. My mystic eyes can see through your facade rather easily. It seems despite the castle’s power, hiding information from the Beyond is still difficult.
“Though… I would say the most obvious clue has to be your mannerisms. From Ynixia’s description, Cassilda is a very short tempered and easy to anger woman. She is also known to be rather impatient. Things you seem to lack greatly.”
His earlier guessing game as well as his constant teasing was simply a test to see whether her current easy-going persona was simply a manufactured facade or the actual truth. His observations made it clear that the answer was the latter, not the former.
Despite all his attempts, “Cassilda” never truly lost her temper, even as the disrespect piled higher than he could remember... Soren didn’t even converse with her like one would do when facing a Duchess—the lord appointed by the King himself. Such transgressions would never have been allowed had he been facing the real Duchess Cassilda.
“But second of all,” he shook his head and sighed. “I had already met the real Cassilda before we had even managed to enter the castle to begin with.
“That woman being burnt eternally at the stake. She is the true Duchess of House Azrathiel—your one and only sister, Cassilda. My mystic eyes do not lie.”
Camilla grit her teeth as she stared at the marble floor.
“Before me and Ynixia departed for the castle, she had asked me a strange question. It's somewhat hard to remember now after passing through the endless dark fog, but I do recall her mentioning a certain word: ‘Mask…’
“I didn’t fully grasp the meaning until we arrived here in this banquet.’”
Sensing her silence, Soren decided to continue. “It got me thinking a lot actually. Those masks you all wear… It never made sense to me why the original nobles who had first attended this banquet would ever agree to the conditions of swapping their identities.
“Was it due to excess greed? Maybe they envied the lives of their peers?
“Or was it perhaps a tragedy forced upon them by you—the mastermind. The controller of this grand and mysterious castle… For a while, I coudn’t really tell what the answer was.”
Soren smiled. “The answer is neither of those options, right?”
The Guardian Spirit remained silent, prompting Soren to shake his head.
“The true answer likely lies in the identity of the masks themselves. An Identity Ynixia never shared, hence why she was never prompted to to return to the banquet, despite this strange game starting once again.
“This whole setting centers around the concept of the ‘nobility… and what it represents for you and the others here: The Azrathiel family…
“Indeed, those original nobles never really cared about their own personal identities. All that mattered to them was their affiliation… Their ‘brand,’ as we like to call it in our world,” he said with a slight chuckle, staring intently at the surrounding nobles continuing to act no different from marionettes.
“It was such a convenient shield,” He sighed, “Why ponder over your own sins, when you could simply be a part of the collective? A family, after all, must share its misdeeds just as much as its wealth. Guilt becomes divided into pieces that you don’t have to fully consume alone!”
She slammed her paper fan shut, flooding the silent banquet hall in a strange, echoing crackle.
“So what? What could you possibly be insinuating?”
Soren looked into her eyes deeply, watching them shift slowly into anger. His grin deepened.
“I already said it before, didn’t I?
“You are not the mastermind of this place. You aren’t even the one trapping them for eternity. It's the opposite— it is you who is trapped here. Your duty as the Guardian Spirit has led you into this abyssal pit of despair.”
“What the hell do you know?!” The world flickered in and out of existence before his very eyes. Invisible winds rushed from all directions, threatening to hurl him toward the nearest wall—he covered his eyes thoroughly.
“What could you possibly know about me!”
For a moment, Soren felt as if the seams of this space had shifted out of control. Though, he still sensed he could resist the coming storm anyway—his mystic eyes were telling him she wasn’t intending to harm him at all.
“You know nothing! Not about my struggles! Not about my sister’s struggles! Not even about the conflict the Hyades people have been facing for so long!”
“You’re right.” Soren didn’t deny it. “I don’t know jack shit.”
“.....”
He chuckled, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn. Curiosity fuels my every action, after all. So just go ahead tell me.
“Tell me why you plan to forsake everything just to preserve something you yourself don’t truly desire. If it is simply an obligation of your contract to the Sacred Treasure, Hyades Castle, then surely you would have discovered a more efficient method by now.
“So what could it be? What exactly compels you to do this much for those sinners who wish to use you as nothing more than a pawn? The crimes of your predecessors and the rest who live on in this eternal dance—why should you be the one to carry their burdens as they continue ignoring the reality around them?”
Camilla shook her head slowly, “You’re wrong…”
Soren stared at her for a while longer, watching as her voice hitched—words splintering apart with each syllable.
“You’re completely wrong… I… I am just like them…
“I too am a sinner!”
The filigreed golden mask finally shattered, revealing a woman of shorter stature than what he had perceived before. Her cascading hair had shifted in hue, turning into reflective violet that seemed no different from high quality silk.
But most noticeable of all, were the tears dripping quietly from her cheeks.
“I’ve committed massacre after massacre… All in the name of ‘protecting the family.’ That is what my duty as the Guardian Spirit was in essence—a weapon to be used on all our enemies.”
She looked down at the marble floor, seeing her own haggard expression within the reflection. “The Hyades people… I’ve squashed so many of their rebellions. I had never realized our tyranny until I viewed its effects from atop this castle’s walls!
“But by then… My hands had already been soaked in the same blood as the ones who came before me. My realization… It had arrived far too late.”