If these words had come from anyone else, Allie would have thought they were insane or spinning a ridiculous lie without a second thought.
But the eerie black mist that had just swallowed the bronze bell was a phenomenon that could not be explained by ordinary magic, and it had happened right before her eyes.
If this news were to spread, it would trigger an unimaginable earthquake across all nations, especially within the sphere of influence of the Holy Church of Light.
An exiled, useless noble had actually become the messenger of a lost deity?
The implications behind this were far too complex and far too dangerous.
Allie fell silent.
She looked at Greg, her gaze complicated and unreadable.
After the initial shock came a deeper worry. Was being noticed by such an ancient and mysterious existence a blessing or a curse? And what was Her goal?
Greg saw Allie's doubt and shock, but he couldn't explain the deeper details for the time being.
However, the dark attribute magic from earlier had shown him a new possibility—one he never would have dared to imagine back when he was just a generic villainous character.
"Allie."
He took a step forward, his expression turning serious. "There's something I need your help with. Only you can do this for me."
"What is it?"
"I need you to find a way during this time... to establish a religious order that worships the night."
Ultimately, he threw out the idea that had flashed into his mind.
Allie froze, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. "...What? Establish a religious order? Worshiping the night?"
"Yes."
Greg nodded, his thoughts becoming clearer and clearer.
"Nightmare... the Goddess's power is closely linked to faith."
"Her faith has been severed for too long, leaving Her extremely weak right now."
"If we can rebuild that faith, even on a small scale, it will help the Goddess recover Her power. And it will help me as well."
He didn't specify what kind of help, but Allie could guess.
There was bound to be a connection between the power of a Messenger and their deity.
The bizarre ability Greg had just displayed likely originated from this source. If the deity's power grew, Greg would naturally benefit.
More importantly, Greg was thinking of another layer: if Nightmare could recover part of Her power, would he, as Her partner in a Life-bond, be able to obtain some kind of Divine Protection?
He thought of Victoria.
That gray-haired brat of a Hero had actually only suffered minor injuries after taking one of Lilith's Flame Bursts point-blank.
Even though Lilith's Flame Burst was only Level 1, an ordinary person hit directly by it would definitely be dead or at least severely wounded.
That was the power of survival and resistance granted by Divine Protection.
What if he could obtain something similar through Nightmare?
When the time came, as long as his own strength continued to grow and was paired with potential Divine Protection...
Then, whether it was the bizarre misfortunes brought by that damned -10 Luck or the fated death that awaited him and Allie, he would have the power to change it!
He wouldn't have to pin all his hopes on Victoria's protagonist aura anymore, nor would he have to spend his life cautiously avoiding every familiar scene from the game.
Perhaps he could truly take fate into his own hands, rather than leaving it to the damned plot and his Luck stat.
This thought burned in his heart like wildfire, making his gaze toward Allie fill with intense expectation and a trace of hidden nervousness.
He knew himself how ridiculous and fantastical this request was.
Asking a maid who was only good with a sword to start a secret religious society and spread the faith of a deity long forgotten by the world... it sounded like a bad joke.
But he had no one else to rely on now.
Only Allie—the woman who had grown up with him, who had a sharp tongue but never truly left, and who had stayed with him until the very end in every Bad End.
Allie didn't answer immediately.
She lowered her head slightly, her long golden hair falling to obscure part of her expression.
There was only the sound of the wind at the top of the clock tower.
After a long while, she slowly looked up. Her azure eyes met Greg's, swirling with many emotions and... a sharp light of resolve.
"I understand."
She finally spoke, her voice returning to its usual calm, even carrying a hint of her businesslike tone.
"I will give it a try. But don't get your hopes too high."
Greg breathed a sigh of relief, a smile appearing on his face. "I'll leave it to you. I believe you can handle it."
He shared a few more brief instructions with Allie. For safety's sake, he planned to spend most of his time in the dungeon and wouldn't leave easily, so it was best to clear up everything he could now.
Allie just listened, nodding occasionally, remaining silent for most of the conversation.
Seeing that the discussion was mostly finished, Greg prepared to leave.
"Then I should be going. Take care of yourself."
"Mhm."
Allie gave a brief response, her gaze already drifting elsewhere.
Greg said no more, turning to walk through the small door. His figure soon vanished into the shadows of the stairs.
Only Allie remained at the top of the clock tower, along with the never-ending night wind.
She slowly walked to the railing and looked down at the sleeping city once more, but her gaze lacked focus.
The moonlight bathed her, making the white silk on her maid dress seem to glow.
Her current mood was a bit complicated.
It felt as if her toy had been snatched away midway, and she had been forcibly dragged onto a pirate ship.
But...
Allie closed her eyes, and distant images flashed uncontrollably through her mind.
The golden-haired brat who used to follow behind her as a child, clearly afraid of the dark but stubbornly insisting, "This young master isn't afraid."
The figure from when they were a bit older—though his personality was growing more twisted, he would still awkwardly toss her a bottle of medicine when she got injured during sword practice.
And later, the young master who gradually became arrogant and foolish, disappointing her time and again, yet someone she could never truly let go of...
She opened her eyes. The cold moonlight reflected in the depths of her azure pupils, gradually settling into a stubborn sort of determination.
Forget it.
She told herself in her heart.
Besides me, that idiot has no one else by his side anyway.
If even I let go, then he really would... have nothing at all.
The night wind tugged at her long hair and skirt. She stood there silently like a statue under the moonlight for a long time, until the first faint sliver of dawn appeared on the horizon. Only then did she turn and vanish silently from the top of the clock tower.
Rate on N.U.
