Chapter 22: Soft Palace, Dangerous Rumors

Silent Royal Court, Intelligence Hall.

A blood-red magic crystal floated in midair, emitting an eerie glow.

“Your Majesty, there’s activity on the human side.”

Duke Cassian Valerius knelt on one knee before the throne.

The Scroll of Intelligence in his hand bore the highest level Blood-Red Seal.

Only intelligence involving Imperial Core Secrets used such a seal.

Ophelia took the scroll, her Crimson Oath eyes scanning the dense text.

Each word caused the Dark Authority radiating from her to intensify.

“Saintforsaken Ignatius?”

Her voice was calm, devoid of emotion.

Yet the temperature in the throne hall dropped sharply by more than ten degrees.

The guards standing on both sides instantly felt a bone-chilling cold.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Cold sweat appeared on Cassian’s forehead.

“That name is spreading rapidly in the human world.”

“The Holy Luminance Church has ordered the destruction of all records about him.”

“And declared that his soul was corrupted by the darkest magic.”

Ophelia placed the scroll aside.

Her slender fingertips tapped lightly on the Obsidian Armrest.

Each tap seemed to be calculating someone’s time of death.

“And?”

“The public reaction is intense.”

“The fall of a holy knight deals a heavy blow to their faith.”

Cassian carefully observed the queen’s expression.

“The church is trying to suppress the news, but with limited success.”

He paused, lowering his voice further.

“Moreover, there are rumors that the holy knight is currently inside our palace.”

Bang!

A fine crack appeared on the Obsidian Armrest.

Ophelia’s fingers froze.

The entire hall’s air instantly solidified.

Everyone felt a fear that pierced the very depths of their souls.

“Just a rumor.”

Ophelia said lightly, her voice cold enough to freeze everything.

“Continue monitoring.”

“Report immediately if there is new information.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Cassian seemed relieved and hurriedly withdrew.

The throne hall returned to silence.

Ophelia stared intently at the Scroll of Intelligence.

A fleeting image of a silver-haired little girl sleeping passed through her mind.

Her daughter, her treasure.

No filthy rumor must ever stain her daughter’s purity.

***

In the palace’s side wing, near Sylvia’s chambers.

Two young vampire maids were wiping the newly installed water crystal chandeliers in the corridor.

The faint scent of blood’s sweet fragrance lingered in the air.

“Have you heard?”

One whispered.

“About Saintforsaken Ignatius.”

“Saintforsaken?”

The other leaned in curiously.

“He’s the human corrupted by magic!”

The maid’s eyes sparkled with gossip.

“I heard he was originally a holy knight, but after being captured by us vampires, he fell.”

“Oh, I know! The nobles are all talking about it in private.”

“They say human faith is fragile; even a holy knight can be turned.”

“Yeah, I heard Ignatius is still in the palace!”

“Really? Where?”

“No idea, maybe locked in the dungeon.”

***

Inside the chambers, Sylvia was curled up on the bed, biting into a Bloodfruit.

Voices from outside floated clearly into her ears.

When she heard the name “Ignatius,” her movements froze instantly.

The Bloodfruit rolled from her hand, leaving a bright red streak on the pristine sheets.

That was her name.

Her former name.

She slowly lowered her hand and looked toward the large mirror on the wall.

Reflected was a petite silver-haired girl.

Blood-red eyes, pale skin.

A face so delicate it seemed unreal.

There was no trace of the holy knight who once charged across the Battlefield wielding a sword.

“Saintforsaken Ignatius—”

She whispered the title silently.

An inexplicable emptiness welled up in her heart.

A soul abandoned by the holy light.

An existence utterly denied by the human world.

Memories of fighting to protect the people, of holding fast to justice.

Former glory and oaths.

All erased under the label of “fallen.”

Sylvia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Forget it.

It’s already like this.

Let those past memories be buried forever.

Now she only wanted to quietly live as a useless person.

To finish out this bewildering life.

***

The next morning.

Sylvia had just gotten out of bed when she noticed the unfamiliar texture beneath her feet.

Looking down, the entire floor of the chamber was covered in a thick, deep red carpet.

Its softness was like stepping on clouds.

Not just the carpet—the lower edges of the walls were padded with velvet.

The whole room had been turned into a giant safe room.

“Wh-”

The door opened and Ophelia entered.

Her complexion was paler than usual.

A faint trace of anxiety flickered in her eyes—an anxiety even she seemed unaware of.

“Daughter, how do you feel?”

Sylvia pointed blankly at the carpet.

“Mother, what is this?”

“Yesterday I sensed you were somewhat down.”

Ophelia reached out to gently stroke Sylvia’s hair.

Her touch was softer than ever, as if afraid of hurting her.

“I thought perhaps the duel frightened you.”

“This way, even if you fall, you won’t get hurt.”

Sylvia: “…”

She looked at the carpet at least three centimeters thick beneath her feet.

Then glanced at her mother’s overly serious face.

“Mother, I wasn’t scared yesterday.”

“Is that so?”

Ophelia nodded, her expression growing even more serious.

“Then there must be another reason making you unhappy.”

“It’s okay, I’ll find out what it is.”

Sylvia quickly waved her hand.

“I really am not unhappy! I’m fine!”

“My dear daughter, don’t force yourself.”

A flicker of tenderness crossed Ophelia’s eyes.

But within that tenderness lay a chilling obsession.

“Mother will protect you.”

“Nothing will ever hurt you.”

After speaking, she turned and left.

The moment her figure disappeared into the shadows, the entire palace’s pressure dropped by several degrees.

Sylvia stood frozen in place.

Soft carpet beneath her feet.

What kind of divine treatment was this?

She only had a little sentiment about the past.

And yet her entire chamber had been transformed into a baby’s safe room?

Afternoon, Palace Garden.

Sylvia was dozing in the Pavilion.

A gentle breeze stirred, sunlight filtering through the vines casting mottled shadows.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached.

She lazily opened her eyes and saw Avira striding toward her, sword in hand.

That delicate face was filled with dangerous killing intent.

“Sister?”

“Little sister, did someone say something they shouldn’t have in front of you yesterday?”

Avira sat beside her.

Her crimson eyes glinted with the light of a predator.

“Tell me who it was.”

Sylvia yawned.

“No one. I was asleep all day yesterday.”

“Then why were you down?”

Avira’s voice carried an unyielding conviction.

“I could sense your mood change.”

Sylvia sighed helplessly.

“I just heard some things about the past. I was a bit sentimental, that’s all.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“The past?”

Avira’s brow furrowed, her killing intent deepening.

“What past? Who told you?”

Sylvia hesitated.

“Just… the rumors about Saintforsaken Ignatius.”

No sooner had she spoken than Avira’s expression turned fierce.

That fierceness carried a pure, unmasked killing intent.

“Those gossipy fools!”

She abruptly stood, hand on the sword hilt.

“How dare they speak such filth in front of you!”

“Little sister, wait here. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait!”

Sylvia hurriedly grabbed her sleeve.

“Don’t kill anyone!”

“I’m not killing them.”

Avira’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

“I’m just going to teach them a lesson.”

“Those who dare speak such filthy rumors around you will pay the price.”

That night, the entire palace fell into an eerie silence.

All the attendants, nobles, and guards communicated only with gestures and glances.

No one dared speak aloud.

Because Avira patrolled the palace for a full three hours with her sword drawn.

Whoever spoke was met with her burning crimson gaze.

Until they cowered weakly to the ground.

“From now on, anyone who gossips in front of my little sister.”

“I’ll cut out their tongue.”

This sentence spread throughout the entire palace.

No one doubted her seriousness.

On the third day, Sylvia woke to an even more surreal scene.

Not only was the carpet thicker, but the bed had been replaced with a Cloud Mattress.

The entire bed felt like floating on air.

And the whole palace was terrifyingly quiet.

She stepped out of her chambers and saw the maids in the hallway bowing and smiling vigorously upon seeing her.

But not a single word was spoken.

The scene was so bizarre it sent chills down her spine.

Sylvia sighed and returned to her room, lying down immediately.

If lying flat is the way it’s going to be, so be it.

After all, she was already used to this crazy world.

Though she had to admit—the carpet was really comfortable to walk on.