The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic - Chapter 442
Chapter 442: 442
Kael laughed aloud for a moment. His laughter echoed across the open land until it slowly faded. He wiped the corner of his eye with his thumb, still smiling in disbelief.
“Damn… This is hilarious. It still feels like a dream. Instead of me finding them, they already reached me.”
His smile faded gradually as he took a moment to calm his thoughts. He drew in a slow breath and looked at Mariana with a steady gaze.
“How do you know it’s me?”
Mariana raised her head slightly. “It’s the word of a Saintess.”
“Saintess…” Kael muttered with a confused frown. “The Heretic Gang also had a Saintess?”
For a moment he looked genuinely puzzled. Saintesses were supposed to be people chosen by God. So how could this group, who worshipped him…someone long gone have a Saintess?
His brows furrowed deeper.
“Lord, that is a bit complicated,” Mariana answered carefully. There was a hint of hesitation in her voice.
Kael let out a slow exhale and studied the kneeling followers. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Then do any of you still harbor doubt about me?”
Sure enough, as soon as he asked, faint ripples stirred through the group. A few shoulders stiffened. Some masks tilted ever so slightly. Even their breathing changed.
Kael clicked his tongue lightly. “So some of you still doubt it.”
He looked straight at them and asked calmly, “Then do you all want to make sure first or something?”
As soon as he spoke, Mariana quickly pulled out a small box from thin air. She held it with both hands and offered it to him with a lowered head.
Kael blinked. ‘Is it a device to test..?’
He slowly extended his hands and took the box. The metal felt cold against his fingers. He flipped the lid open.
The moment his eyes landed on the contents inside, his heartbeat spiked violently. His breath caught in his throat.
Inside the box was one of the most precious objects from his past.
“This…” His hands trembled as he reached inside. His fingers curled around the small circular object as gently as if he feared it would vanish. “My… my monocle…”
Countless memories poured through his mind like a raging tide. His vision blurred for a second as he tightened his grip on the monocle.
It was never just a simple glass piece.
It was a tool that could see through illusions. It could reveal weak points of magic circles, spells, and arrays. It could measure power levels even if the targets hid themselves. And more than that, it could disguise its host.
In the beginning, it did not have many functions. Later as he grew and his friend Steampunk honed his skills, more functions were added until it eventually became a godly artifact.
As Kael stood there staring at it, he noticed something else. Every single person kneeling before him had a monocle on their left eye. The sight triggered another string of memories, and Kael remembered the ancient curse tied to it.
“Only the real one can put it on the right eye…” he murmured.
When he said that, everyone stiffened. Their breath lodged in their throats.
Kael lifted the monocle slowly and brought it toward his right eye.
As it drew closer, the artifact began to vibrate. It was faint at first, then stronger, as if the monocle itself was alive. It quivered in excitement, almost like it recognized him and longed to return to its rightful owner.
The kneeling followers swallowed hard. Not one of them blinked nor anyone dared to even move their fingers.
They kept their eyes fixed on Kael, terrified to miss a single moment.
And then, Kael placed the monocle over his right eye.
SWOOOOOH!
A deep silence fell.
It was not a normal silence. It felt like the entire world held its breath. The wind stopped blowing. Dust froze mid-air. Even the echo of distant destruction faded away. For a moment, time itself seemed to stand still.
Then the sky screamed.
A celestial phenomenon burst through the silence like a roaring beast. The sun darkened and turned a deep bleeding red. The world was drenched in crimson light as faint ripples spread outward in every direction.
A suffocating killing intent exploded from Kael’s body. It was dense and overwhelming, the same terrifying aura he once carried in the past.
Kael’s body started to change.
His white hair elongated, swaying as if caught in a silent wind. The strands darkened rapidly, turning pitch black with streaks of glowing red running through them like threads of burning lava.
His facial features shifted.
His bones adjusted, skin tightened, and contours reshaped. His youthful appearance emerged once again. It was not the face of Kael Veydrin people knew now. It was the original face. The true face. The one that once commanded fear and devotion across continents.
The Killing Machine and Lord of Chao…. Leonard Valcrest.
The moment his transformation settled, the last tiny bits of doubt that clung to the kneeling followers shattered completely.
Every single one of them slammed their heads onto the ground.
Their voices rose in trembling praise that echoed across the land.
“All hail the Lord…”
“All hail the Great One…”
“All hail the true master who has returned…”
Kael lowered his gaze at them. His crimson-tinged eyes glimmered with an emotion that was neither softness nor mercy.
….
Far away from Heizen lay the Holy State. It was the nation where the central headquarters of every religious region stood. Over the long passage of time there had been many gods, but five were worshipped more than anyone else.
They were the Goddess of Light, the Goddess of Nature and Creation, the God of Destruction, the God of Storms, and the Goddess whose name was never spoken casually.
These five had the most believers, and they were followed by the two newly risen gods who had begun to gather followers in recent years.
Inside the headquarters of the God of Light, an old man sat in a quiet room. He rested on a wooden chair while writing in a notebook. The chair swayed a little every time he moved.
There was a fire chimney beside him that gave off a warm and gentle glow. With his simple white robe and his calm eyes, he looked like any ordinary old man one might see in a peaceful neighborhood.
Beside him stood a man wearing a black mask. He kept his hands folded and his voice low as he murmured, “Our people will escort the Saintess safely. Still, do we really need to send inquisitors over it, Sir Raphael?”
The old man’s pen paused. It stopped mid-stroke, and he slowly lifted his head. A deep frown appeared on his wrinkled face, and in an instant the warm room turned frigid. The air felt heavy, almost icy.
“It was not needed,” the old man said quietly, “but I had a bad feeling about it.”
The masked man straightened and asked, “Bad feeling? What is it, Your Holiness?”
Raphael closed the notebook gently and looked toward the flames beside him. His eyes narrowed as if he were staring into the past or into something far away. “I cannot describe it clearly,” he said in a slow and steady tone, “but I feel as if something is about to happen. Something that might overturn the faith.”
The masked man froze. His hands tightened behind his back. The old man before him was no ordinary priest.
He was the retired Pope. A Demi-God who could become a full God if the Goddess wished to grant him divinity. His perception could not be ignored. When someone of his level felt danger, the entire world had to take it seriously.
“Sir Raphael?” the masked man whispered.
“Yes?” Raphael replied without turning.
“You are scaring me.”
The room fell silent for a moment. Raphael finally looked at him and said, “You… the Head of Inquisitors, whose name is enough to wake the dead from sleep… is getting scared…”
The masked man did not know how to answer. Raphael let out a soft breath and chuckled lightly.
“Do not worry,” Raphael said. “No matter what happens, we should have our faith in our Goddess. She will protect u—”
He froze. His lips stopped moving as if someone had suddenly seized them. His breath halted. Even the flames in the chimney seemed to shrink.
The masked man’s eyes widened behind the black mask. “Yo… You felt it?”
“No. This cannot be. No, this cannot…” Raphael’s voice trembled. He pushed himself up from the chair. “Edwina, open the window.”
Without waiting, Raphael swept his hand through the air. The window cracked as if struck by a hammer and shattered outward.
A cold wind rushed into the room.
What they saw outside made their hearts sink.
The sun had turned red. Not a warm red, but a bleeding red. An ominous sign that only one being in history had ever triggered.
Even Raphael’s centuries of calm faltered. He grabbed the masked man’s shoulder, his fingers shaking. “How is this possible?”
“Didn’t we kill him?” the masked man said with panic rising in his voice.
“I… Yes… I… No, we killed him with our very hands.”
“Yes, you are right. He is dead. So why is my feeling telling me he is back, Edwina…”
Before he finished, a massive force erupted in the sky.
“HOWOOWWOWOWOWOW!”
A huge surge of power shook the entire Holy State.It wasn’t a real force that disrupted the world rather it was unseen force that can perceived,only by those who can see through destiny.
Raphael and Edwina could only stare helplessly as the bleeding sun burned above them symbolizing the catastrophe ahead.