I Awakened A Divine Curse

Of course, Auren's plan, while reckless to some, had a strange charm—and more importantly, it made sense. What the King had done was deserving of death. If it truly was the Dark God who had sent him, then this was no longer just vengeance. It was judgment.

Auren hadn't anticipated the people mistaking them for emissaries of the Dark God, nor had he expected Asenya to carry a hidden card capable of turning their fortune so sharply.

But his mind, ever quick and calculating, immediately grasped the value of the misunderstanding.

And it was going to be useful—immensely so.

He had won the Knight's heart on purpose. The priest? He wasn't a problem. Auren had sewn fear into the nobles, and it had worked—subtly, but enough. They had started to acknowledge him, even if they didn't realize it yet.

The Priests weren't a threat. Or maybe they were—but not one worth fretting over. They would attempt to control him, certainly. But he had already crafted a way out of that web.

If he killed the King now, under the guise of Divine Retribution, the Knight and the golden man would hesitate. They would pause—not out of fear, but because it was clear in the way the golden man moved, in the silence beneath his words, that he wanted this war to end.

The nobles would protest, of course. But with the Archpriest's backing, their voices could be buried. Crushed beneath the weight of sanctity.

What remained were the consequences Auren hadn't fully measured—consequences hiding in the fog of his own short-sightedness, or perhaps things still beyond his knowing.

Killing a king was never a small thing.

It was not something he should rush.

And yet…

If there was ever going to be meaningful progress—true, irreversible momentum—he would have to do it.

He would have to kill the King.

'But what if killing the bastard ends the Trial?'

That was likely not possible. After all, there was no guarantee that killing the King would bring the war to an end. Meredith and Jasper still had to contend with the Highrise Kingdom.

Auren exhaled and leaned back in the soft chair he was seated on.

After the encounter with the King, he had followed the Archpriest, and now they were in the quarters that served as the Dark Temple's temporary abode.

Auren sat at the head of a long table, with several other chairs lining both sides. It looked like the kind of place where Priests gathered for council.

But right now, only he and Asenya were here.

Speaking of the devilish Sculptor—

He raised his head and looked at her.

Asenya was seated adjacent to him, silent since they'd arrived.

"I strangely find your silence disturbing," he said at last.

She leaned back, her posture slow and deliberate, and opened her eyes to meet his.

"You do? Why would you?"

"All you do most of the time is talk. So it's unsettling that you're not doing what you're best at."

Asenya grimaced.

"First of all, what I do best is sculpting, not talking. Secondly, I'm not speaking because I find your little charade... displeasing."

She looked as if she had more to say, but stopped herself.

"I'll reserve my speeches until we're out of this place," she added, reclining fully in her seat and folding her arms beneath her ample chest.

Auren studied her for a moment before looking away. It almost didn't make sense.

Then again, not everyone was comfortable lying—not that he particularly enjoyed it either.

'Let's not lie to ourselves, buddy…'

Okay, maybe he enjoyed it. A little.

Still, Auren believed that enjoyment was born from necessity. How could he lean fully into the role if he wasn't at least a little entertained by it?

For a lie to truly convince another, it had to first convince the liar. In fact, the liar had to believe it—feel it in his bones. And the path to believing one's own lie was a strange, twisted process.

Auren was very convinced of his lie.

So, naturally, he enjoyed delivering it.

'I should probably audition as an actor someday…'

That is, if he ever made it back to Hope Province.

At that moment, the door creaked open, and the Archpriest stepped inside—his aged face appearing first, followed closely by two others. Auren recognized one of them as the same man who had come to summon him earlier.

Both men bowed as they entered.

"Divine Cadre. You must be tired from your—"

"Don't give me that bullshit."

Auren cut in sharply, pointing toward the chair.

"Sit down. Let's talk."

The Archpriest trembled slightly—not from fear, but from something that hovered between reverence and a quiet, weary respect.

He moved slowly, lowering himself into the seat at the opposite end of the long table.

"Bull…shit…"

The old man murmured, as if tasting the word.

"What a strange expression. You're indeed not of this era."

Auren frowned and said flatly:

"I'm not from any era. But I've studied them—the ones that came before, and the ones yet to come."

The Archpriest bowed his head in acknowledgment, his voice low.

"Studying future eras… surely, that is something only a divinity could do."

Auren waved his hand, brushing the remark aside like smoke.

"What is going on in this kingdom?"

His voice went a little colder.

"Who or what is the Truthsayer?"

The Archpriest was silent for a few seconds. Then he exhaled and slowly raised his head.

"It's a long story. If anything, I'm rather surprised you don't know her. She once claimed to be the apple of many gods' eyes."

One of Auren's brows twitched, but he said nothing. His cold expression remained, though he leaned in slightly.

"Apple of many gods' eyes?" he echoed, voice quiet but laced with scorn. "The gods have many apples to their eyes, and some of them have far too many eyes to begin with. You think I'm keeping track of something as meaningless as how many apples each eye gets?"

The Archpriest spoke again, careful and measured.

"I… I didn't mean it literally. She phrased it strangely—her words were difficult."

"Neither did I," Auren replied, voice dry. "And if you truly understood her words, you'd understand mine."

The Archpriest bowed his head a little, speaking with a tone just shy of defeat.

"We… we're not very conversant in the language of divinities…"

Auren sighed and shook his head.

"Of course you're not. What was I expecting you cockfuckers to know?"

The Archpriest looked up, eyes wide. For a second, it seemed as if he'd grasped the insult's weight—but instead, he blinked, then nodded with a spark of admiration in his gaze.

"Cockfuckers…" he repeated under his breath, almost reverently.

He leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"Divine Cadre, if you do not mind… may I know what that means?"

Auren shrugged casually.

"It's a word reserved for those devoted to a fault."

The Archpriest's mouth fell slightly open as he nodded slowly.

"Ah… I see…"

Then, with a flicker of pride, he straightened.

"Then we are proud cockfuckers."

Auren smirked.

"Damn right you are. Now, tell me about this Truthsayer."

The Archpriest sighed and folded his hands atop the table. His gaze dropped for a moment before he began to speak.

"About fifty years ago… a resplendent mistress came to our kingdom. Back then, even though we and Highrise had our differences, we still dined together as kin. We upheld the traditions of both the Light God and the Dark God, but despite our contrasts, we found ways to coexist. It worked—beautifully, even—until this young lady arrived."

He paused, his voice dipping slightly as if weighing every word.

"She was draped in white linen, and her womanly features were always… barely veiled. It was nearly impossible for any man to resist the allure of her body, or the strange spell of her beauty. Even a poor farmer would've sold his only plot of land just to catch a glimpse. Everyone in the kingdom was smitten. And at the top of the chain… were the kings of both realms."

Auren shook his head slightly, a dry sigh escaping his lips.

'Please don't tell me these kingdoms are at war over a woman… I'd be so, so disappointed.'

Oblivious to Auren's thoughts, the Archpriest pressed on.

"She was no ordinary woman. She wielded divine powers tied to truth. She could only speak truth… hear truth… and make truth."

His hands moved as he explained, fingers sweeping gently across the air as if trying to trace the enormity of her gift.

"There was no limit to the timeframe of the truths she could perceive. Whether it was in the present… or in the days to come… even truths buried in the sands of millennia—if she wished to hear them, she could. She was a walking vessel of knowledge. A prophetess… cloaked in sanctity and dripping in lust."

Auren sighed. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been to resist a woman like that. He had never been in such a position himself. Hope Province enforced a strict dress code, and things like red zones—areas men could only visit at night—simply didn't exist there. Though, he'd heard they were commonplace in Passion Province.

The Archpriest's voice continued to slice through the quiet air.

"With the knowledge she carried… there was so much she could have offered our two kingdoms. The Temples knew it. They understood the potential and brought word to the Kings. But there was only one thing both Kings truly desired from her."