Chapter 682: [Blood Moon War] [26] Amael’s Objective
"It all began about a week ago—if we’re talking about the very first case," the King said. "It was a woman who had gone into the nearby forest to gather vegetables...or so they said. She never came back. We found nothing—no tracks, no belongings, nothing at all. At first, it was just her. But then dozens vanished... and now, the number has climbed into the hundreds. At first, we assumed it was the work of a mana beast."
"Was it?" Viessa asked, leaning forward slightly.
The Olphean King shook his head. "No. If it had been a beast, we would have found signs—tracks, blood, claw marks. There was nothing. People are simply... vanishing, as if they’re being swallowed by the air itself. And with no trace left behind, we’ve begun to suspect that someone—someone dangerous—is behind this."
"I see," Viessa murmured. "And Natulen wouldn’t have been targeted unless their real aim was the Prophetess."
"Yes," the King said, nodding gravely. "That thought has crossed our minds as well. But strangely enough, we’ve found no signs of knights of the witch anywhere nearby."
"That is not really strange," Viessa agreed. "The Blood Lords are an army unto themselves. Even a lone one would have the power to seize the Prophetess and escape without trouble. Which means we should be extremely cautious."
"Exactly," the King said. "That is why we asked for help. The Prophetess’s safety is not something we can gamble with. Every unusual event must be taken seriously." He straightened and gestured ahead. "Now, please—follow me. I’ll take you inside."
And so, we walked together toward the Olphean Castle.
It wasn’t the royal castle I had been to before—it felt different, older.
Five hundred years ago, Natulen had been the capital. I’d heard the name often enough, but never visited it in my own time.
Once inside, we were led to a spacious chamber and told to wait.
I didn’t bother standing on ceremony. The moment we were shown in, I claimed a seat for myself, earning a few raised brows from the others.
Amaya slipped into the seat beside me without hesitation.
Viessa sighed softly before settling down next to Cleara.
Amael chose a chair as well, though Lisandra and Sylvia remained behind him, standing like silent statues. They really did act like his personal bodyguards now.
"Edward," Viessa spoke to me, "be respectful. The King and Queen are here, and the Prophetess will arrive shortly. Understood?"
"I’m not a kid," I muttered, pulling a face.
"Yes, yes... of course you’re not," she replied with a smile that was more patronizing than reassuring.
A faint slurping sound made me glance sideways. Amaya was sipping from a container of Alicia’s blood again—far too eagerly.
Without a word, I reached over and plucked it from her hands.
"Uhm..." Amaya looked up at me with wide eyes, a crimson trail glistening at the corner of her lips.
"You’ve had enough for today," I said sternly.
She reached out with one pale hand, almost like a child asking for a toy back. "I want more."
"No," I said. "Save Alicia’s blood. You can go without it for a while, can’t you?"
At that, she dropped her gaze, shoulders sagging in quiet disappointment.
"Come on now..." I sighed, using my sleeve to gently wipe the streak of blood from her mouth and chin.
When I looked up again, I found several pairs of eyes watching me.
Breaking the silence, I asked, "By the way... is the Prophetess actually useful in this war?"
The question earned me a row of sharp glares from the surrounding knights. They looked ready to jump down my throat.
"I’m being serious," I added, leaning back in my chair. "Has she actually helped with her prophecies?"
In the Utopian War, Claudia had been... well, pretty useless, though to be fair she had been losing her powers at the time. But what about the Prophetess of this era? Was she any different?
"I have," came the reply—from a new voice.
I turned to see her standing there.
The Prophetess.
A woman with long, flowing white hair and eyes of pure, unbroken white. Her face held the calm grace of someone in her late thirties, her lips curved into a serene, almost knowing smile.
It seemed she had finally arrived.
The King and Queen took their places but the Prophetess walked straight to the main seat, the one positioned directly across from me.
"Prophetess." Viessa and the others immediately rose to their feet, bowing slightly in greeting.
"It has been a while, Viessa," the Prophetess said. "You have grown... and become a formidable leader."
"Yes," Viessa replied with a small smile of her own.
The Prophetess’s pale eyes flicked briefly toward Cleara, giving her a small nod before returning her gaze to the rest of us.
"I see we have gathered quite the reinforcements," she said.
"Yes," Viessa began, gesturing toward me. "This is Edward, and this is Amaya—both have come from Edenis Raphiel. And on the other hand, they are..." She trailed off, her eyes moving toward Amael, but her expression faltered when she glanced at the two women flanking him. She clearly had no idea who they were. They had barely spoken to her after all.
"We are also from Edenis Raphiel," Amael said before she could ask. "I am Samael. These two are my guards. They are trustworthy, and that is all you need to know." He still clung to that false name without a flicker of hesitation.
The Prophetess tilted her head slightly. "Edenis Raphiel suddenly sending people to aid us... that is unusual," she said with a meaningful smile.
Amael raised a brow for a moment but didn’t say anything.
"I trust they mean us no harm," Viessa said quickly, stepping in to defend us. "They are here to help, Prophetess."
I, on the other hand, wasn’t entirely convinced—especially when it came to Amael’s motives.
The Prophetess gave a slow nod. "I will trust Viessa’s judgment, then. Regardless, we are here to speak about the Blood Lord responsible for so many disappearances."
"A Blood Lord? You’re certain now?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "I had a prophecy confirming it. Her name is Rulana."
"R–Rulana?" Viessa’s voice trembled a bit
"You know her?" I asked, watching her reaction closely.
"Y–Yes... a little," she nodded. "She is extremely dangerous. We don’t know much about her, but two years ago she seized control of the Moonfang capital entirely on her own. Since then... nothing. No sightings, no reports."
The Olphean King leaned forward. "Do you know what she is capable of?"
Viessa shook her head. "Not truly. Those who have fought her never returned alive."
I frowned. "If she wants the Prophetess, why bother kidnapping random people?"
"That is our question as well," the King replied grimly. "But whatever her goal is, she is clearly preparing something."
"Then let’s not waste time," Viessa said, rising from her seat with sudden decisiveness. "We should find her immediately."
The Olphean King nodded. "We will show you all the places where people vanished. If she’s hiding in the forest, we may still have a chance to find some of our people alive."
While they discussed the plan, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye—Amael quietly slipping toward the door. He murmured something to Lisandra and Sylvia, clearly telling them to stay behind, and then left the room alone without explanation.
I watched him go for a moment, wondering what exactly he was up to, before forcing my attention back to the conversation.
I didn’t think the Prophetess was going to take me to the Tree until the danger here was dealt with. And if Rulana had her way, she wouldn’t let us leave at all.
Which meant there was no avoiding it—we had to get rid of her first.
***
Amael slipped out of the room without a word. His steps were unhurried, carrying him through the quiet halls until he emerged into the cool air behind the castle.
There, in the shadow of the ancient stone walls, he leaned back against the cold surface and shut his eyes for a brief moment.
"Father."
Amael opened his eyes to find Nihil standing before him—visible only to his own sight. Nihil’s posture was as rigid as ever, arms clasped neatly behind his back.
"How is it?" Nihil asked without preamble.
Amael’s lips curved into a faint smile. "For now, he seems in control of the two Sins. No signs of losing it. His arrogance and occasional recklessness... well, I think that’s all him, not the Sins talking. Honestly, I’m impressed he’s holding it together at all—especially considering he’s just a human."
"He is not an ordinary human," Nihil said. "He is a Vessel of Amael, just as you are."
Amael tilted his head slightly. "Father... I wonder if you’re not going too far with the measures you’re taking against this Vessel."
Nihil said nothing, the silence inviting him to continue.
"I think antagonizing him is a mistake," Amael said plainly. "Push him too hard, and you might drive him straight into Nemesis’s arms. Me becoming the Vessel wasn’t random chance—we both know you used Nevia’s Fate to foresee my birth, then made sure my mother bore your child. Me." His smile thinned. "But after I die—and I will, one day—another Vessel will appear. Will you try the same thing again? Seduce another woman just to make the next Vessel your son?"
He didn’t need to say how distasteful he found that. Nihil knew. It was an unholy sort of manipulation, but it was also undeniably effective—ensuring loyalty through blood. Amael himself was proof of that.
"I’m not trying to antagonize the Vessel," Nihil said at last. "I want this peculiar Vessel dead."
Amael straightened slightly. "I thought you sent me to make sure he was in control—and to kill him only if he wasn’t."
Nihil fell silent again.
"Father," Amael pressed, "you’re the one who planted Nyrel Loyster’s memories into Amael Idea Olphean of the future. Through Nevia, we learned he would become the Vessel five hundred years from now. I thought your goal was to create a new Samael—different from the last. Now you want to kill him?" His voice held a genuine edge of confusion.
"I saw the future," Nihil said.
Amael’s brows furrowed. "You had Nevia use her Fate again?"
"It was necessary," Nihil said. "I am her father—do you think I overuse her power lightly? But this was unavoidable. And what I saw... his instability is dangerous."
Amael’s tone dropped to a wary seriousness. "How far did you see?"
"Not far," Nihil admitted. "I saw him in Sancta Vedelia... engulfed in flames. After that—nothing. Only darkness."
"He dies, then?" Amael asked quietly.
Nihil nodded once.
"Yet you still want to kill him now," Amael said. "while he’s here in the past?"
Nihil looked up at the sky.
"This is the second time I sent Nyrel’s altered memories into someone. The first one was into you. You don’t remember it obviously."
Amael gave a slow nod.
He knew exactly when it had all begun—where the misstep had first been made.
In the previous timeline, Nihil had chosen Leon—bearer of the Sin of Pride—as the one to implant into Edward Falkrona. But that decision had been his greatest mistake, and Nihil had lived long enough to see exactly how that timeline ended... in ruin.
Nevia had been the one to save them all by creating an alternate timeline, bending the strands of Fate to rewrite what was destined. Nihil had learned from that failure. This time, he had shifted his focus.
Instead of Leon, he turned his attention to Nyrel Loyster, the Sin of Wrath.
But he hadn’t gone directly to Edward—at least, not at first. Nihil had chosen to give Nyrel’s memories and Wrath to his own son, Amael Falkrona. That fusion—Amael and Nyrel merged into one—was the version of himself who had once crossed paths with Lisandra and Sylvia. The meeting had been different back then, the relationships... entirely altered. Nyrel’s persona had seeped into everything, reshaping him into someone neither entirely himself nor entirely Nyrel.
In the end, that version of Amael was a failure too. He had died with Nyrel’s memories before fulfilling his intended role as the perfected ’good’ Vessel of Samael.
So Nihil had changed the plan.
Not just tweaked it—he had torn the past apart, erasing entirely the version of events where his son bore Nyrel’s memories. From that erasure, everything else shifted.
This time, Nihil decided to place his faith once more in the Vessel that would appear five hundred years later: Edward Falkrona. But instead of repeating the Leon experiment, he would pass on Nyrel’s memories... though in a very different way.
Leon’s reincarnation and Nyrel’s were not the same. What Nihil gave Edward Falkrona was not a soul’s rebirth but something artificial—an engineered mind. The same Artificial Memorial Brain he had once placed in his son, now implanted in Edward’s future self. It contained the unfiltered memories of Nyrel—memories that explained why Edward sometimes experienced vivid flashes from the life of a previous Vessel, especially those spent alongside Lisandra and Sylvia.
It was a colossal gamble.
Tampering directly with the past in the same timeline was far beyond Nihil’s natural limits—and the consequences of such interference could tear the world apart. Time was not a toy.
And yet the one who paid the price wasn’t Nihil. It was Nevia—the one who made such feats possible.
Still, Nihil had done it. He had to. He needed to believe in the perfect Samael. He had known the ’good’ Samael once, and he was convinced he could bring that version back.
But what he had seen in Edward’s future was disturbingly similar to the catastrophe caused by Edward-Leon in the original timeline. That dark outcome would only occur if Edward returned to the present.
So Nihil considered a different course—one far more brutal. Kill Edward now, here in the past, before he could spiral out of control. End him before both Sins could fall into worse hands.
That would guarantee the future changed.
It was strange—paradoxical even—that in the far future Nihil still believed in Edward... yet in the now, he was convinced killing him was the only solution. Cleenah was no longer there to steady him, and his only companion was Nemesis—arguably the worst possible influence.
"He may be in control now," Nihil said, "but Nemesis will eventually force his hand. Before that happens, he must die."
Amael’s eyes narrowed. "Is that why you had me meet Sylvia and Lisandra once more? To use them against him?"
Nihil nodded.
In the version of Nyrel-Amael he saw the peculiar relation Nyrel had formed with Lisandra and Sylvia.
"He won’t be easy to kill while Nemesis stands with him, but—"
"Edward cares for Sylvia and Lisandra because of Nyrel’s memories from his first life in this world," Amael cut in. "He won’t allow Nemesis to harm them. You’re planning to use that against him. That’s... quite shrewd of you, Father."
It was a precise weapon—emotions, sharpened into a blade. Even without consciously remembering, Edward’s artificial mind carried the weight of those bonds. And Nihil meant to turn them into his undoing.
"When the time comes," Nihil said, "have them use their Hallows. That will be enough to kill him."
It wasn’t only because Lisandra and Sylvia were people Edward cared about that he wanted them to become his son’s companions this time but also because both of them were Demigods capable of wielding Hallows so capable of killing even a Vessel with Two Sins like Edward currently.
And with that, Nihil faded from sight, leaving Amael alone in the shadow of the castle wall.
"..." Amael stayed silent.
He thought about Edward.
He looked like a good person but if Nemesis managed to get what she wanted then...
"Yes father."
He couldn’t allow that.
So he will kill Edward before he could leave to the present and harm Sancta Vedelia or maybe do worse.